chapter warnings: lots of allusions to death and dying
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: it’s uh... it’s been a while since I posted here. I really don’t know what to say except... hi :) take a chance on this fic! oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{intro} + {3 days from the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. There was no wind that day, no windstorms or gentle breezes. But, those particularly sensitive to the world around them noticed a certain stagnant quality over everything. They didn’t know (those who were sensitive to the world), but if they had tried, really tried, and let themselves get lost in the world around them, they would have been able to hear the music in the air. They would have been able to hear the quiet pianos and guitars, the strings and a band, and a voice singing longingly and sadly, all crescendoing into an existence impossible to ignore, and, underneath them all, a symphony of screams just beginning to materialize.
And when the sun finally began to set, and the sky became a painting composed of deep oranges and reds, sleeping televisions startled awake, and forgotten sirens blared to life. The world had officially begun to crumble.
Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. One of his RA’s had run outside, pushing past him, screaming, “Everybody inside! Everybody back inside! Everybody get inside now!”
He had grabbed Chan by the shoulder in his panic and shoved him back into the building seconds before the sirens flooded their surroundings.
He’d never forget his RA yelling, or the sirens, even after the sound ceased to exist. He couldn’t. He’d be forced to hear them again when fear struck him and as he tried to sleep without nightmares taking hold of him.
You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
It had been an early day. After six hours of lectures, studios, and labs, your biology professor had let your entire class go an hour early after getting everyone to observe the growing carrots they had planted almost three months ago.
In an attempt to make do on your New Year’s resolution at least once, you had followed your roommate to the campus gym. You had been running on the treadmill, watching the sun begin to set through the wall-length window (at the same time Chan had been leaving his dorm’s building) when the TVs playing campus news suddenly turned black. A gray popup screen appeared just as the sirens went off-- Mandatory Campus Wide Lockdown. The words went unnoticed by most, however.
A student worker yelled above the sirens soon after, “Mandatory lockdown! Nobody’s allowed to leave!”
A fight broke out. Cocky, testosterone-filled assholes refused to be made to stay. Among them is your roommate. And, as the glass doors were finally locked behind them, you watched as your roommate left you behind.
It would only take half an hour before more than half of the others refused to stay put as well.
Soon enough, you’d hear the beginning of the screams that you’d never be able to forget or the panging against the thick windows as people ran into them, even as you delved deeper into darkness, attempting to seclude yourself from the world.
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a/n: this prompt was suggested by a good friend of mine. As much as I love writing more serious prompts, I live for these idiotic scenarios. The serious prompts will come, but for now, CHAOS!
Scoups/Seungcheol: Dead
❀ He wasn’t having a good time even before the boat began to sink. Instead of enjoying the luxurious holiday he deserves, he was too busy running around the deck trying to get the members to stop doing cannonballs in the community pool. DK and Hoshi had been such nuisances that they almost got banned from the upper deck, leaving Coups to smooth things over. Thus, when the ship starts to sink, he can’t even feel stressed about it; it fits perfectly with how the rest of the holiday had been going.
❀ Despite being absolutely done with everyone and everything, he remains perfectly rational. He knows he has to act fast; he will stress about his situation later. His eye hasn’t stopped twitching, though. Ever since he realized that he would have to find all twelve of his members on the massive ship, he has been on the brink of a nervous breakdown.
❀ Coups will be running across the boat, searching every nook and cranny to retrieve each member. Nobody on the ship dares to talk back to him when he picks the members up by the scruff of the neck to throw them into one of the dinghies. He is about to snap, and nobody on the ship wants to be the one who receives the brunt of his rant. Truly, with Coups on the boat, the members actually will have a decent chance of making it out alive.
❀ He ultimately doesn’t make it to a dinghy because someone tries to argue with him. A Karen pops up next to him and demands that one of the members should switch with her. The moment she insults Seungkwan for being ‘selfish’ when he quietly tells her that he doesn't want to give up his seat, Coups grabs her by the hair, ready to tie her to a pole so she and her rudeness can die with the ship. Who does Karen think she is, insulting his children? Unfortunately, in his anger, he forgets to put his safety first, and as he is tightening the knots to ensure she won’t be going anywhere, the ship sinks.
Jeonghan: Alive
❀ Why do you think the ship is sinking in the first place? He has been brewing this plan since the moment he set foot aboard. Do you think he wanted to go on an expensive boat ride, stuck with twelve energetic children? He made sure to puncture a hole in the hull of the boat the night before, hoping for the journey to be cancelled. Nah, I am kidding, but yeah, he definitely survives this. He is too clever not to, and with his quick thinking, he will make it out alive. He won't feel too responsible for the others' safety either, prioritizing his safety before anyone else's.
❀ Mr. Gaslight-Girl Boss-Gatekeep convinces everyone around him to let him onto the dinghy. He made up an entire backstory that makes him look like a saint. If they had to believe Jeonghan, he is currently working on a ground-breaking treatment against Rat Hallucinations. It is a very serious disease for rats, as when they hallucinate, they tend to mistake people's fingers and toes for food. He reveals that he has stumbled upon a massive finding in his research. Apparently, certain cheeses can induce hallucinatory effects, but before he was able to share it with his fellow scholars, he had to leave for this trip.
❀ Hey, he had very little time to come up with something, and all he could think of was rats after he saw one scurry past him as he made his way over to the dinghies. If he had had more time, he probably could've come up with a more believable story.
❀ Surprisingly, the people waiting for their turn to board the dinghy actually believe him; most of them find the prospect of rats gnawing on their toes scarier than drowning.
Joshua: Dead
❀ Joshua finds himself stuck in a loop when the ship starts to sink. He made his way to the dinghies just fine, arriving at the correct side of the boat just as the crew began disembarking people.
❀ Initially, Joshua was fully prepared to Gaslight-Girl Boss-Gatekeep himself onto a dinghy, ready to make up some ridiculous background story that would give him priority. However, once he saw people's desperation to get their children onto the dinghies, he couldn't get himself to lie.
❀ He starts helping the crew load the children onto the dinghies, doing his best to save as many people as he can. He doesn't take a single break until most of the children in his vicinity are aboard the dinghy. However, even when spots do open up for adults, he still refuses to disembark the ship in favour of letting others go first. In Joshua's opinion, it would be rude of him to leave the ship before everyone else has done so. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of him.
❀ Everyone around him agrees that he deserves to leave; he acted so selflessly and helped so many people that it is only fair that he gets another chance to live. One lady, in particular, tries her best to convince him to board the dinghy. It turns into a "no after you" loop, where Joshua and the lady keep trying to get the other to disembark first.
❀ Yes, Joshua wastes precious time being too polite, and it gets him killed in the end.
Jun: Alive
❀ It is genuinely a miracle that Jun manages to survive the sinking of the Titanic. You see, he remembered a single survival tip and decided that now was as good as any time to try it out. He once read that fridges are great to hide in during nuclear attacks; surely, they can protect him from drowning as well.
❀ He spends a considerable amount of time walking around the ship, selecting the most promising-looking fridge. Somewhere tucked away in the corner of a kitchen, he finds one that looks like it would work. It is big enough for him to fit in, but small enough that he can maybe get it to the upper deck. He is feeling very optimistic about it.
❀ It takes him a considerable amount of time to drag it up to the upper deck, getting help from a confused staff member passing him on his way up. They have asked him whether he wants to try to get on a dinghy instead, but he maintains that his fridge plan will work. The only reason they help him move the heavy fridge is because, well, they are going to die anyway. At the very least, his insane plan might work.
❀ They lower it into the water before Jun gets on. For those of us who are not aware of this fact, fridges float. Jun didn't even know that they did until he saw it casually float on the surface of the sea. It is not the most functional impromptu dinghy, but it works well enough to allow him to drift to the nearest piece of ice.
❀ Yeah, he survives by sheer luck and insanity.
Hoshi/Soonyoung: Dead
❀ In his never-ending quest to convince everyone that he is a tiger, Hoshi has decided the best moment to prove his theory is when the Titanic starts to sink. He reasons that being a tiger and all that, he must be skilled at swimming, considering that tigers are naturally born swimmers. Thus, in all his stupidity, he jumps straight into the ice-cold water. He regrets it immediately as the cold chills him right to the bone, realizing that the waters in which the tigers swim are probably considerably warmer.
❀ Luckily for him, that is the moment when he meets DK in the water, floating aboard a door. He is just as soaked, but at the very least, the door is keeping him afloat despite his exhaustion. In the true Jack-and-Rose fashion, the two try their best to share the door. However, when Hoshi tries to climb aboard, their collective weight results in the door sinking beneath the surface. In order to save his best friend, he tries his hardest to cling on to its side, hoping that he can stick it out until rescue arrives.
❀ DK has a death grip on his arms, and the two keep making stupid jokes the entire time, trying to keep each other awake and distracted. Some of the jokes might be made a bit too soon, like "What do you get when you cross the Atlantic with the Titanic? About halfway." or "Titanic, sorry, that was a terrible icebreaker." At the very least, DK and Hoshi are having a great time, giggling at their stupid jokes.
❀ Despite Hoshi's sheer motivation, even he won't be able to deal with the hypothermia. Even when DK and he take turns resting on the door, Hoshi has been in direct contact with the water for much longer and will ultimately succumb to hypothermia.
Wonwoo: Alive
❀ Well, technically, Wonwoo is screwed. Wonwoo has admitted before that he can't swim, so if he ends up in the water, he is most certainly dead. At the very least, he will not chance his life by jumping overboard, hoping that maybe he can swim ashore. No, he will try his chances with the overloaded dinghies instead.
❀ What ends up saving Wonwoo in the end is his knowledge of boats. He has been researching the Titanic ever since Coups mentioned they would be taking a trip on it; it is a technical wonder, after all. He has been recounting fun facts about the Titanic the moment they stepped aboard, but the other members found them boring and told him to shut up. Well, guess who is having the last laugh?
❀ He knows that something is wrong with the boat even before the crew does. When the other members wave away his worries, he decides to take action in his own hands. Even before the first alarm sounds, he has already reached the dinghies, ready to leave the ship.
❀ He is one of the first ones to board the dinghy and part of the first batch of people who leave the sinking board. Thanks to his Titanic facts, he was able to be first in the queue and, therefore, made it out alive before the crew realized they needed to prioritize who would be leaving the boat.
Woozi/Jihoon: Alive
❀ If it had been up to him, he would've given up on surviving long ago. The moment the boat started to sink, Woozi had accepted his fate, ready to go down with the ship. Why bother running around in a panic, trying to save yourself when you could use that time to enjoy your last moments?
❀ Woozi is in no rush to make it off the boat; he even pauses in front of the orchestra, which has continued to play music as the ship sinks. It is a beautiful scene in his eyes; despite the chaos aboard, music continues to fill the night air, trying to tame the rising panic. For a moment, he feels overwhelmed by the strong emotions, before inspiration hits him. He has such an amazing idea for a song that he needs to write it down somewhere. Well, pen and paper are hard to find on a sinking ship, forcing Woozi to make his way to the dinghies.
❀ The only reason why he can make it out on one of the dinghies is because people mistake him for being a child. He is so tiny that he won't take up much space anyway, and the crew argues that it doesn't matter whether he is a child or not. Woozi considers arguing with them before realizing that they are practically giving him a way out, so he lets the short comments slide for the first time in his life.
❀ He is grumpy the entire time, sulking that what saved him was being vertically challenged. When he meets up with the other surviving members, he will lie and tell them he was let on, as they trusted him to take care of the other children aboard. He will take it to the grave that they thought he was pocket-sized and a child.
DK/Seokmin: Alive
❀ Ah yes, the other member who finds himself floating on top of a door. DK survives by pure luck. Immediately when the boat started to sink, he grabbed onto the first object within his reach, and he still hasn't let go of it. That object happened to be a door. He blacked out for most of the sinking; he blinked twice and suddenly found himself in the water, floating on top of the door that he initially grabbed onto. Fortunately, he isn't too soaked; somehow, the door has been keeping him dry, for the most part, that is.
❀ He is just as lucky to find Hoshi as Hoshi is to find him. DK has been panic crying the entire time, and Hoshi has been able to divert his attention from the disaster that the two have found themselves in. Hoshi is the one to suggest cracking jokes about their situation, knowing that DK could do with a cheering-up. The jokes are stupid, which is precisely what makes them funny. DK is the one to propose switching positions on the door, feeling bad for Hoshi having to float next to him in the cold water.
❀ Once Hoshi drifts away, DK considers floating away with him. By some sheer luck, it is precisely that moment that a dinghy floats nearby, and they hoist him aboard. Huddled between all the dry and warm bodies, DK warms up in no time and gets some much-needed therapy from the sweet older ladies who sit on either side of him.
❀ After that night, they practically adopted him. After the rescue efforts have passed, they stay by his side, helping him find what is left of his members, before heading off to find their own family. He still visits them every other weekend and he makes sure to write them weekly letters to let them know how he is doing.
Mingyu: Dead
❀ Welcome to the tales and woes of Kim Mingyu's time on the Titanic. He wasn't really having fun, to begin with. The rocking of the boat constantly made him lose his footing on the deck, as he couldn't find his balance on the ship; he couldn't remember how many times he had tripped so far. Even worse were the waves, making him either fall over or drop whatever he is holding in order to steady himself.
❀ When the ship started to sink and slowly tilted to one side, Mingyu found himself in a tiring game of evading rolling objects. So far, he is miserably losing, getting repeatedly hit by random things. He can't even make his way up to the dinghies; he hasn't even been able to move from the spot he was first in when the ship started sinking. For every step he is able to take, he ends up tripping and falling five steps back. He doesn't even understand how every object seems to hit him; he has somehow managed to trip over fifteen rolling cups and stepped right into the path of a sliding beach chair.
❀ He finally gets taken out by a flying parasol that hits him squarely on the head, successfully knocking him out. Instead of stepping out of the way, he manages to step right into its path. His limp body rolls, together with everything else, off the side of the ship, and he hits the water, unconscious.
❀ If he doesn't die from the head injury inflicted by the parasol, he will definitely die from drowning or hypothermia. Nobody bothers hoisting his unconscious ass aboard a dinghy; he is too tall to fit on the already overly full rescue boats.
The8/Minghao: Alive
❀ Minghao has meditated so much that he simply levitates above the surface of the sea. Why worry about floating when you can fly? This is the moment he has been training for, to let go of all his worldly ties and, quite literally, ascend. Consequentially, as the chaos ensues around him, he can be seen sitting perfectly still on top of the deck, meditating.
❀ All jokes aside, his meditation does allow him to keep cool, calm and collected. Compared to some of the more stress-prone members, he can stay level-headed, understanding that it will do him no good if he starts freaking out. He is the only one who notices when Wonwoo slips away and does not hesitate to follow him; he knows that regardless of whether his warning is unfounded, it would not hurt to follow Wonwoo to the dinghies.
❀ As a result, he finds himself happily next to Wonwoo when the ship starts to sink. Wonwoo feels incredibly touched at the trust Minghao put into his deduction; in reality, Minghao didn't really expect the boat to sink but partly wanted an excuse to take a break from the other members. Still, he will pretend for Wonwoo's ego that he definitely thought that Wonwoo was onto something.
❀ He will be the type to point around, trying to spot the other members, judging them for how well they managed to escape the sinking boat. Honestly, he and Wonwoo are having a bit of a blast with it.
Seungkwan: Dead
❀ Seungkwan is so incredibly scared when the ship starts to sink. Not because he feels like he will drown, but because he feels like he has made so many enemies aboard who would want him dead. He should've known better than continuously nagging the crew and other passengers, but could you really blame him? The coffee they were serving was atrocious, and if he didn't suggest changing it, they would all still be drinking dirty bean water instead of quality crafted Iced Americano.
❀ He regrets it now, as he hurries towards the dinghies, constantly watching his back. Despite his paranoia and vigilance, he doesn't notice the dark figure slowly creeping up behind him, following him closely like a shadow. Seungkwan does feel a chill running up his spine, and he can't shake the feeling that someone is watching him, but every time he turns around, he can't figure out why. Unfortunately, that is the last time that Seungkwan is seen alive.
❀ Before he knows it, he suddenly gets ambushed as someone grabs him from behind. Nobody knows where he went or whether he made it off the boat for the longest time. It's only when the rescue team recovers his body, floating face-down in the water, that it becomes apparent that foul play is involved in his death.
❀ To this day, his death has gone unsolved; his story is hugely popular in conspiracy communities. He would be proud of the countless videos discussing his death and how he managed to inspire decades worth of conspiracy theorists.
Vernon: Dead
❀ Vernon was never in any danger to begin with. As an alien who travelled back in time from his planet to observe how humans deal with catastrophes, he is rather enjoying his time aboard the sinking Titanic. He looks completely out of place as he wanders around, humming a tune under his breath as he observes the absolute chaos around him.
❀ Okay, I know I have used the Vernon-is-an-alien-joke way too often, but, in reality, Vernon will not survive whatsoever. Vernon isn't even aware that the boat is sinking; he decides to take a relaxing bath after dinner, and he is so absorbed in his own world that he doesn't even notice that the boat is dangerously tilting to one side. Even when he does, he gaslights himself into believing that it is part of the experience or due to some rocky waves.
❀ Even when it slowly starts to dawn on him that the ship is sinking, he can't move fast enough to get to the deck, let alone the dinghies. Vernon doesn't run; he is not about to change that for a life-threatening situation. At most, he is jogging up the many flights of stairs, trying to make his way to the upper deck. Nobody knows where he is, either, leaving him to figure out what to do all by himself.
❀ He arrives too late on the upper deck, noticing that all the dinghies have already left and that most people have already taken whatever object might help them stay afloat. Instead of trying to jump into the water, he will simply sit down and accept his fate. He finds some left-behind food, which he nibbles on as the ship sinks, taking him with it.
Dino/Chan: Alive
❀ You might be thinking, "Wait, Dino survives? How? Do you mean to tell me he survives his members, all whilst a boat is sinking? Do they suddenly baby him?" The answer is no; he survives because they forgot to bring him in the first place. In his hurry to leave on time, Scoups miscounted, and Dino, who was still on the toilet, got unceremoniously left behind. Honestly, he doesn't even mind it that much; being home alone was better than any holiday where his members would bully him.
❀ He is thriving back home. Suddenly, his skin has cleared, and for the first time in a long while, he doesn't constantly feel hopeless. He gets to do and eat whatever he wants, not getting out-vetoed by his members. Sure, eating pancakes drenched in syrup and a mountain of whipping cream for breakfast every single morning for weeks might not be good for you, but he is young; his metabolism can handle it.
❀ Still, when he hears about the Titanic sinking, he makes his way to the dock where the survivors gather. Initially, he is worried sick, praying that his members make it out okay, but when it becomes apparent that they hadn't noticed he was missing for the past few weeks, that worry melts away really quickly.
❀ Honestly, as he listens to their stories, he can't help but wonder whether he can stage another maritime disaster where the remaining members accidentally perish. Maybe he can drown them himself in the harbour when nobody is watching.
It is the season- and London is full of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes, waiting to be swept up in a whirlwind of romance, passion and matrimony as they each fight their own battles for happiness in London's elite society.
BEFORE YOU READ:
All installments are interlinked and take place in the same universe. The timeline can be confusing, especially if you read out of order. These are listed in recommended reading order.
The combined series word count is around 100k. Don't start reading right before an exam.
There are seven members covered in the full installments. I will not be doing full installments for the other 6 members. You can request drabbles for the other members. Please see the rules for requests here. Requests are currently OPEN.
An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?
You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?
Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?
The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) was beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.
Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
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6. Closed Doors: Kwon Soonyoung (complete!)
Soonyoung had made peace with his station in life. A younger son of a little-known family, he was not set to inherit a fortune and had nothing to recommend him but his bright personality. Nobody expected Soonyoung to make the match of the season. But when you- a woman with ties to the royal family and riches beyond his imagination, a Duchess in your own right- seeks Soonyoung's hand in marriage, his life begins to spiral entirely out of his control.
A mixture of hard work and sheer good fortune had landed you a coveted position as the governess for Viscountess Hong's little sisters. But when the Viscountess' notorious younger brother returns from his time at Oxford, you find yourself treading dangerous waters. Mr. Lee Chan- with his boyish smile and passion for horses- seems determined to make your job very difficult indeed.
Omg hi!! It’s Lin from @justkpopjokes, idk if u remember me lol but WOO can’t believe it’s your 7 year blogaversary!! 🎉🎉 I hit 6 years last month, it’s so crazy that we’ve been here that long >:OO anyway just wanted to say hello!!
Oh gosh hi!!
You hit 6 years last month?! Congrats!! 🎉 We really have been here a fairly long time lol
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Curse your bullshit destiny. It was decided that on the 100th anniversary of peace in your kingdom, the eldest princess would marry a prince from the other thirteen kingdoms. That day has finally arrived and thirteen princes have gathered. Who will you pick?
> Mirror Stage 💔
If his math is correct, and he sorely doubts it isn’t, then it’s almost time for them to wake. The clock is ticking. He’s waiting.
> AU ideas from the FEAR teasers
5 AU ideas that popped into my mind from the teasers.
.S.COUPS.
> Blinded 💕
This isn’t what Seungcheol meant for Jun to do.
> Trauma 💔
Again? Again. They said to each other as they started the simulation again.
> Friendship? 💔 💕
He liked you. But no. You liked him. But no. They knew. So why not help a friend out?
.JEONGHAN.
> Before Christmas 💕
A Nightmare Before Christmas AU.
Crossing through a door in the woods, you and Chan end up on Earth. And you really just freaked out a man named Jeonghan.
.JOSHUA.
> 3lue ✨ 🧩 💔 💕
(World: 3lue AU)
Blue. His powers were blue. It’s been years since you last saw him. Your memories of him were also blue.
> A Dance Meant for Two 💕 💔
> Because You Were Gone ❤️🔥 💕 💔
You never knew when to give up. It wasn’t your superpower but it sure seemed like it.
> Guardian Angel 🧩 💕 💔
(Series: of Guardian Angels)
You had taken some notes on the page, not many— the professor’s lecture had been brief and had ended with a “simple” question. One single question that for some unexplainable reason — except that the topic had always existed in the depths of your brain — seemed to rattle you.
You blinked, the words came into focus: Renaissance Art 14th to 17th Century: Religious Depictions: Angles.
> I Saw 💕
Maybe you should have thought of your wishlist beforehand….
> Untitled AU
From a Song+Member inbox night
> The Switch 💕 💔
Perhaps it was karma that he wasn’t in his own body anymore, living it up and spending his money the way he wanted to. To you that was a bittersweet blessing. Maybe he could change (you doubted it), but at the very least, you got to meet Seungcheol (and Woozi).
> What is Love?
A 100-word drabble
.JUN.
> Breathless Words 💕
Being alone on Christmas Eve isn’t as rare as everyone makes it out to be. Then you go and meet him.
.HOSHI.
> Princess, Please ❤️🔥 💕
You tried getting out of the field trip to the reindeer ranch. Hoshi’s family owned it and you’ve been avoiding him as much as you could.
> Secret Santa 💕 💔
You spent so much time, and thought, trying to find Hoshi the right Christmas present. You’d only forgotten the Secret Santa exchange was going to happen during class.
> G&R: Yule Ball 💕
Anger came when things didn’t happen like you hoped. But at least he loved you and overlooked your outburst. Now just…confess.
> Missed Connections ✨ ❤️🔥 🧩 💕 💔
(Series: Between the Dusty and the Sparks)
They’re from different societies, meant to hate each other. But when you don’t know where the other’s from…there’s always the possibility of love. But when they find out, what are they meant to do?
.WONWOO.
> The Marionnettiste || Part 2 💕
Too shy to pursue. Too bold to let you go so easily. Want to play a game a chess? Some one has to make the first move.
> Guarded 🧩 💕 💔
(Series: of Guardian Angels)
He hadn’t seen you in so long. There was a reason for that.
> Letting Go ❤️🔥 💕
All Wonwoo had wanted was for you to show up to Mingyu’s party. It’s bene hours since it started and he’s already lost all hope.
> Untitled AU
From a Song+Member inbox night
.WOOZI.
> Saving Colors 💕
Black is black, red is red - find it, find me - before All Hallows Eve ends. Before it’s too late.
> Night ❤️🔥 💕
When the cute guy you keep staring at in the campus cafe turns out to be your neighbor (and you’ve been unknowingly annoying them for a while). Christmas break just got better.
> Miraculous Ladybug!Woozi || Part 2
Woozi as the Miraculous Ladybug headcannons.
> I’ll be your Heaven, I’ll be your Hell 🧩 💕 💔
(Series: of Guardian Angels)
He saw you often, even through the pain because it was the only wish that kept coming true.
> Since the Day I Met You || Part 2 ✨ 🧩 💕 💔
(Series: Between the Dusty and the Sparks)
For better or worse, he’s been your friend since the day you met. You’ve been through a lot together already, you, Jihoon, and your ragtag rebel family. But someone messed up, someone made the elitist Sparks government focus on you all– a group of nobody rebels in the cast-off City of Dust that have never even seen the luxury of the walled-off City of Sparks. With a heavy, love-stricken heart, choices have to be made; and, as the leaders of this family, for better or worse
they will be made.
.SEOKMIN/DK.
> Warmth 🧩 💔 💕
(World: 3lue AU)
Ice had to meet Sunshine at some point, but they had to learn how to stand on their own.
.MINGYU.
nothing here, sorry :(
.THE8/HAO.
> Drunken Mornings ❤️🔥 💕
A party long into the night gives you a hungover morning, and memories of a drunken morning.
> Ashes 💔
You weren’t ready to admit what it was, the song you kept hearing in your head as grew up. Neither of you were. But, it never changed what it was: a curse teasing you about its impending arrival.
.SEUNGKWAN.
> Fight or Fight 💕
...He’s forgetting something… isn’t he?
> Peppermint 💕
(Soulmate AU)
Who was to guess that it was in demise that Head Elf #11, otherwise known as Seungkwan, would finally meet his soulmate.
.VERNON.
> Monster Mash 💔
It’s at a Halloween party two weeks after an accident, that Vernon and you are haunted.
> Snowed In ❤️🔥 💕
Arrangements are made when no one can go home because they’re snowed inside.
.DINO.
> Sleigh Bells 💕 💔
I jingled some bells. You didn’t notice. They threw bells. You noticed. You said bells rang in your head - so could you listen to mine?
> A Dream of You 💔
It’s only in your dreams that you’re still able to see him.
> 5:15pm: As the World Caves In (Teaser)💕 💔
Coming home after the apocalypse. Home sweet home.
> As the World caves In (Full Fic) 💕 💔
(Post-Apocalyptic AU, Zombies!AU)
The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
chapter warnings: allusions & talk death, weapons (the knifebrella & a gun), violence (defending self from zombies), oh and blood and references to body parts and viscera (not descriptive though)
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) the ending is here! apologizes for the wait. but if you’re just seeing this fic now... maybe take a chance and start from the beginning? :)) links are right there below. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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a month since the end
Chan struggles to breathe from under the bundle of blankets you’d wrapped around him as if the combination of hoodies, coats, and scarves he was wearing (something you’d insisted on, he remembers) were nothing more but a pair of swimming trunks. In a span of a couple of days, the temperature dropped drastically, and though it had yet to snow, the river had already frozen over. Guilt gnawed at him as he watched you carefully step onto the center of the river, a simple beanie and coat to fight off the bitter cold, while you tried to get a good look at the surroundings.
He understood that he was still sick, though not as bad as he was before. Still, he wished you would let him be the one to catalog the locations and amount of zombies around. He hadn’t moved from the spot where you’d helped him sit down inside a service closet the two of you had found underneath the river’s bridge. You were meters away, far enough that he couldn’t really tell what face you were making but not far enough to where he couldn’t see that you were trembling in your boots.
Sometimes, when the sun went down, he swore the mild fever he still had was giving him hallucinations. At this moment, however, he knew it wasn’t just his imagination that was making you shake.
He wished he could call you back, urge you to turn around, and return to him.
It felt like an eternity before you made your careful way back across the iced river to him and let the door close all but an inch or two with a brick. You sat down across from him, dragging the duffle bag where you’d stuffed the night’s supplies to you with a hand.
A sleeping bag, the cans of food that would be dinner tonight, two water bottles, two flasks, and two trash bags. He reached for the bottle of medicine you pulled out then.
“How are you feeling?” You asked him as you opened the cans of food, waiting for him to swallow the syrup.
“Better,” he croaked, then cleared his throat.
“Maybe we should look for something stronger,” you suggested, holding out a can of salmon for him.
“No,” he shook his head. “I am getting better. This’ll go away, I know.”
“Alright.” You relent.
The two of you ate in silence, only sharing the sound of your spoons scraping against the insides of the cans.
Chan would have preferred conversation, the silence between the two of you felt too much like a wall was being built between the two of you, but his sore throat prevented any attempt from his side.
Even after you finished eating and began to unfurl the sleeping bag and arrange an even bigger pile of blankets around it, he continued to eat in silence. The rock he felt in his throat forced him to eat languidly, almost entirely focused on pushing the food down his throat.
But by the time he finished, he’d had enough, and the words left him before he could think them through.
“You told the others where we were going, right?”
Chan watched you still for a moment and squeeze your eyes shut. Almost immediately, he regretted what he’d said and cursed himself for not stopping and thinking of something better to say. You had yet to say anything or turn to look at him, but he could still read the words running through your head from a single corner of one of your eyelids. ‘For the hundredth time.’ Then they shot open--you wouldn’t say that to him-- and you turned to him.
“Yes, Chan. I told them, as best I could, the general direction we’d be taking toward your hometown.”
“Okay,” he croaked, a bright red blush settling on his cheeks.
He managed a couple of seconds of renewed silence, toying with the seam of his pants before grabbing one of the trash bags.
“I’m going to go to use the bathroom outside.”
“Here.” You held out a roll of toilet paper. “Try not to stay out too long, or you’ll get sick again.”
He mumbled out a thanks as he grabbed the roll and shuffled outside the fastest he could.
Without the armada of blankets encompassing him in a cocoon of warmth, a gust of cold December wind chilled him to the bone and froze him just outside the door. He trembled, gaze stuck on the horizon with tears pricking at his eyes. Then the wind settled, and he was able to look away, blinking away the tears as he left the enclave.
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
Chan traced circles into your arms later that night. Much like earlier, you had yet to say anything to him, choosing to arrange your supplies while you waited for him to get ready for sleep. There was only one sleeping bag and it had come with a series of compromises. While you’d attempted to get him to use the bag for himself, he refused until the two of you wound up pressed together inside. Even then, you refused to sleep inside until he was already under it. So he slipped in first, and you zipped shut the bag.
Tonight, though he was sure you were upset with him, changed nothing. You slipped into the bag after him, silently, zipping it shut enough around the two of you that you could still pull the blankets at the front of the sleeping bag over you two. Then, laid down, half on top of Chan with one hand resting on his shoulders and the other at his side.
He couldn’t sleep.
Even with a hand clutched around you, he was uneasy.
Words accumulated at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t find a way to say them.
It wasn’t until he felt your breath even out that the words managed to slip past his lips.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t mean to keep asking you. I just…” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I don’t like the silence. I keep thinking about them, and I start to worry they’re already dead.”
His heart raced at the admission, and he let out a shuddering breath as he tried to calm down. He did, eventually, and when that finally happened, he shifted so he was able to place a kiss on the crown of your head.
He had just closed his eyes when he felt you shift and brush your own lips across the underside of his jaw.
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
Your fingers toyed with the inside of his pant pocket, encompassed in the warmth of a heat pack you’d found in the maintenance room you’d slept in days before.
“Now, if I were a sporting store, where would I hide?” Chan whispered into your ears as the two of you walked down a block of stores.
The streets were zombie-free, and it unnerved him. He wondered if you had noticed the eerie loneliness of the streets or if you had managed to ignore it in favor of a prettier image.
“Running a few laps around the block, I imagine.” You answered, giving his hand a squeeze before returning to your ministrations on his fingers.
“Perhaps they’d like to break so we can have a chat.”
You hummed. “Maybe. Would you like to call out to it instead? See if it comes?”
He laughed.
With an added bounce to your step, you started to hum under your breath. Chan was sure that if it’d been warmer, you’d have--
You slipped your hand out of his pocket, pulling his hand and the hot pack along with yours, and swung them. He smiled. It was an innate reaction, and in the end, the only thing he could have done that wouldn’t break the spell you’d cast over yourself.
The two of you continued to walk like that for what seemed like an eternity to Chan. The sun had long past reached its highest point in the sky for the day. It would only take another couple of hours before it would begin to set, and the sporting goods store was yet to be found. Just how many times had the two of you gone in circles? He was sure he’d seen that ravaged kiosk of cell phone cases at least fifty times. (And still, no zombies anywhere in sight.)
His thoughts strayed toward the stolen-- he frowned, though he knew it was now inconsequential-- car the two of you had found in one of the university’s parking structures. If he had managed to count correctly, the car was at least ten blocks down the street you’d come from, a mile or more so away.
Lost in thought, he missed the moment you stopped humming and swinging your intertwined hands.
“How long do you think it’ll take us to find it?” It was faint, hardly louder than the gusts of wind that brushed past the two of you every now and again. But it was enough to pull him out of his preoccupations and startle him into flinching.
“What?” He swallowed. “The sports store? I know it’s already taken us too long--”
“No,” you interrupted, “I mean, how long do you think it’ll take us to find the safe zone?”
“The safe zone?”
“What if it’s not even a safe zone anymore? What if it’s moved?”
“Wait. Wait.” He pulled you to a stop. “What? Y/N, you can’t-- you shouldn’t be thinking about those things.”
“Chan, our only goal is to get to safety. To get to the safe zone. But what do we do if it’s not real anymore.”
He shook his head. “Y/N, our only goal right now is to find that store.” He grabs you by the shoulders, leaving the hot pack in your hands, “We need a tent. We need to find food. We need to get back to the car. We find shelter for the night. We need to find my brothers.”
“And then?”
“And then we find safety.”
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
“How much longer do you think we have?” You ask Chan as the two of you speed walk down a pathway that leads to a hidden street.
A single directory station the two of you had stumbled upon by chance hours after he’d reassured you had shown you the location of the store you looked for.
“Not long,” he frowns. “Maybe an hour, hour and a half, if we’re lucky. What do you think?”
“An hour,” you agreed, then nudged his shoulder and nodded to the sky. “Maybe less.”
In the distance, beyond the grove of trees you were walking through, a patch of sky was visible. While most of the sky was a chilly blue, the horizon was starting to turn a warm orange, with bits of pink starting to bleed into the blue.
“Maybe less,” Chan agreed.
“It should be around here somewhere,” Chan murmured as the two of you reached the end of the path.
The two of you stood at the end of the grove, taking in the wide, dead-end street it opened into. Then your eyes fell on the elusive sporting store you’d been looking for.
You gripped Chan by the forearm, a grin overtaking the tired expression on your face.
“Come on,” Chan nodded. “We have to hurry.” Then he took off running, and you set off after him, nipping at his heels.
From far away, the rows of stores looked like they were perfect recreations of pictures of a miniature model shopping district. Both of you could have sworn that its windows were glittering from the sunlight, that you could see glare streaks across the glass. But the closer the two of you got, the quicker the little details started to come into focus.
Like the other stores, the sports store’s front windows had been smashed through completely. Its glass rested on the floor in front of the store like grains of sand, forcing you to a stop.
“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” You mumbled.
“No,” Chan agreed. “Follow me.”
Chan walked alongside the front of the store, looking for a space where the glass hadn’t fallen. Finding none, he stopped at the edge of the store and pointed at the corner of the window sill.
“We’re going to have to stretch as far as we can to get inside. I’ll go first and give you a hand.”
His hands were freezing when he grabbed yours and pulled you inside, but it was the temperature inside the store that made a shiver run down your spine. Then, as the two of you turned to step inside, the two of you froze as if you’d suddenly been hit by a cold snap.
Deeper inside, where the sunlight was quickly receding, blood splattered the floor and clothing racks. Corpses, complete or not, laid one on top of another, all of them heading deeper into the store. The sunlight didn’t reach deeper inside, but you didn’t need to see deeper inside to imagine the corpses and body parts that were probably strewn around.
“They probably took refuge here.”
“Yeah,” you choked out.
While the undead terrified you, it came as a terrifying realization that you had managed to ignore all of the corpses and body parts that you’d run into before. Images of the day the world ended came flashing back. The people pounding on the gym’s windows, the undead behind them, the viscera on the way to the stadium, and the random body parts and trails of blood throughout the city. You’d managed to ignore it all. That was so… unsafe.
“Y/N,” Chan called to you, “Y/N. Y/N, I need you to focus. Look at me. Y/N, look at me.”
He forced you to turn and look at him, though you were trembling nonstop. He didn’t know if you were listening, if you were even here. You had a hazy look in your eyes that made the apprehension he felt intensify tenfold.
“We’ve only got a little while to find everything we need, but we’re going to have to split up. Are you okay with that?”
You shook for a moment longer, and Chan was sure he was going to have to pull you along. Then you nodded.
“Don’t think about it. Just ignore it.”
You nodded again.
“I’ll go this way.” He waved a hand to the stairwell against the wall. “And you can go that way,” he nodded to the rest of the store behind you. “Do you remember what we need?”
“A-A tent. Tarp. Duffle bags. Trash bags.” You began.
“A solar-powered portable heater and a solar-powered power generator if we can find any. More blankets and thermal clothes.” He finished.
“O-Okay.” With a single, short kiss goodbye, the two of you split.
The store, without its fluorescent lights and customer-created white noise, was disorienting to say the least. You were already living a nightmare, but this made you feel like you were taking part in a horror movie. It felt as if death was waiting for you just a couple of steps ahead, just out of sight, hidden in the darkness.
Your vision adjusted quickly, though it didn’t stop you from wishing you had a flashlight. Thankfully, finding thermal clothes and duffle bags were an easy find, and you stuffed as many as you could into your duffle.
“Generators. Heaters. Tents,” you mumbled under your breath, taking care to keep focused (and not look at the floor) as you made yourself venture deeper into the store.
“Flashlights,” you murmured in relief when you saw some.
“Generators. Heaters. Tents.” You began to repeat again like a mantra.
While the flashlight was a relief, it made it harder to dismiss the streaks of blood on the floor and splattered onto the merchandise.
You were approaching the back half of the store, when between boxes of shoes and workout equipment when you felt the world freeze around you.
Pools of dried blood stained the floor under their undead feet, and the stench of decay permeated the air. You gagged, hands flying to cover your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself from crying out as you backed away.
Unaware of the steps you were taking, you slipped on a patch of fresher blood. You yelped as you lost your balance, and if that weren’t enough, you took down a display of shoe spray.
The result was instant. It was almost like they were machines by the way their heads snapped up as if they’d just been powered on.
You screamed as they turned around, glazed eyes training on you as you scrambled to get up. They lurched forward and you backward.
Finally, on your feet, you raced in the opposite direction, feet following the path you had taken to get there in the first place. You were nearing the stairwell when you caught sight of Chan stumbling down it, a horde of his own zombies after him.
“Run!” He yelled when he saw you. “Get out! Run! Hurry!”
The glass outside was inconsequential as you ran, even as you fell and it dug itself into your hands.
In the light of the setting sun, you could nearly delude yourself into thinking you were hallucinating.
Behind you, though, Chan fired a gun at the horde.
Your nonstop screams only added to the chaos around him.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He spit as he missed his mark yet again.
Though he wanted to take out his knifebrella, he accepted that it would be futile against the horde after the two of you. Realizing he was getting nowhere, he took off running behind you.
“Through the grove!” He yelled, narrowly avoiding the hand reaching for him.
The sun set as the two of you ran through the grove, stumbling over raised blocks of cement and fallen branches. You’d taken two steps outside before you were almost killed, and a bright light enveloped your forms, a screeching of tires forcing you to a stop.
“Chan!” Someone yelled.
“Get inside! Hurry!” A second, deeper voice yelled, and a moment later, a flatter screeching sounded above the groans of the undead.
When neither of you moved (Chan too stunned at the appearance of his friends), one of the owners of the voices jumped out from the light and grabbed the two of you, pulling into the light and--
You blinked. A long, yellow school bus rested before you.
“Seungcheol. Jeonghan.” Chan finally spoke. You could tell he was trying to keep his composure, but as he said their names, his voice faltered.
“In. In,” Seungcheol insisted, pushing you inside.
Jeonghan smiled thinly, unshed tears lining his eyes, “I told you I’d find him.”
“My apologies.” Seungcheol huffed and after ushering the two of you past Jeonghan, pulled a lever at the base of the driver’s seat to close the doors.
“Move!” A third voice suddenly yelled. “They’re coming!”
“Seungkwan!”
“If we die, I’m killing you first, you martyring bastard!”
“Everyone sit down!” Seungcheol ordered the lot as the bus lurched forward.
You gasped as you fell onto one of the seats, catching only a brief glance at who you guessed was Seungkwan.
“How did you even find us?” Chan asked when he stood up again.
Jeonghan, leaning against the seat across from you, lifted a book into the air. “The XXXX Updated Travel--”
“You used a travel guide?!” Disbelief was all you could really feel.
“You must be Y/N.”
You nodded.
“I’m Jeonghan. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for taking care of Chan again.”
You shook your head, “He took care of me.”
“Wait. Wait.” Chan interrupted moving up to stand beside you, behind Seungcheol’s driving seat. “Where are we going?”
“To find the others.”
“We’ve got to go back.”
“What?” Seungcheol snapped.
Chan pointed southeast of the way Seungcheol was driving. “We need to go back. To our car. We need our things!”
“Your things?!”
“We had food!” Chan snapped. “Medecine. Bandages. Clothes. Supplies!”
“This better be worth it,” Seungcheol snapped, jerking the wheel for a right turn.
“I’ll tell you when we’re close.”
Satisfied, Chan plopped down and turned to look at you. Finally taking in your appearance, his eyes widened.
Your smile was wobbly at best. “I take it you didn’t find any of the things we needed? I found the du-duffle bags and c-clothes.”
He stood up, and though you couldn’t see his mouth, you knew it was hanging open.
“It’s--It’s not my blood.”
Wordlessly, he threw his arms around you and hugged you. After a while, you thought he was letting you go to sit down again, but rather than that, he leaned into you to give you a long kiss.
“Oh,” Jeonghan said from the other seat, “Interesting. Very interesting.”
Chan sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Turn left here.”
chapter warnings: allusions & talk death, weapons (the knifebrella), and violence (defending self from zombies)
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe? spicier times ahead (not actually lol) oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{INTRO} + {3 DAYS SINCE THE END} + {7 DAYS SINCE THE END} + {10 DAYS SINCE THE END} + {20 DAYS SINCE THE END} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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27 Days Since the End
The two of you hid, backs pressed tightly against the door, in a conference room Chan had been lucky enough to find unlocked and unoccupied after running through the student courtyard, pursued by a horde of undead that was continuously increasing.
Chan had flipped the deadbolt on the door before sliding down next to you. He breathed heavily under the scarf and mask he was wearing, his throat burned, and even though he knew he needed to cough, all that came out were choked grunts.
You squeezed his hand and your eyes at the groans on the other side of the door and the thumps that accompanied them. They wouldn’t end not for a couple of hours, long after the two of you had fled.
But, when his coughs continued to come out choked, you forced them open. “Take off your mask,” you struggled to get out yourself.
Chan didn’t understand why he hadn’t thought of that in the first place. He was thankful, though, that you had while the fear inside him grew.
He couldn’t breathe. (He could.) He couldn’t breathe. (He was.)
Then his scarf and mask were off, and you held out a bottle of water for him to take.
His throat was irritated, even after he’d drunk half the bottle, but at least he could cough now.
“Here,” you whispered to him after a particularly rough one. “I found some in your backpack when we were packing.”
A cough drop.
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“Chan,” you whispered again minutes later, “What are we going to do? We can’t stay here forever.”
He took hold of your hand again and gave it a squeeze. “There’s another exit somewhere. I didn’t see it when we came in, but all the conference rooms have a second exit.”
“What if there are more of them there?”
He was silent, then, “We’ve got to check, at the very least.”
Twenty minutes later, your hand gripped the knob of the back door that had been hidden behind a blackening curtain. Chan stared at you, eyes having adjusted to the darkness, from across the room. His fingers bent over the deadbolt on the door, and he gulped before he nodded to you.
“For someone else,” he’d whispered to you.
In the silence, the click of the deadbolt echoed like the beat of a drum at the end of an orchestral piece. Then Chan ran, and his muffled footsteps fell on deaf ears as blood rushed into yours. A chill ran down your body as your eyes locked onto Chan’s wide ones.
“If there is anyone else,” you had agreed.
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
Lothlórien. Lothlórien. Lothlórien.
Chan could have shouted in joy when you pointed out your dorm’s building to him, were it not for his burning throat and the zombies the two of you were both still managing to avoid. It was taller than all the other residency buildings around it and all the other buildings Chan had seen on campus. It had sparkled in the sunlight.
Now, he knew it had been a mirage, hope luring him into a false sense of security.
He screamed now.
“Don’t stop! Keep going!”
Chan didn’t know how long he’d been running, how long he’d truly been running. The running the two of you had been doing on your way here couldn’t be considered the same activity.
“Go!” He yelled to you as two zombies from the horde pursuing the two of you broke off from the rest and charged forward as if they’d been given a boost. He bared his teeth in a growl under his mask as he opened his knifebrella to push them back.
He managed to take a couple of steps back before the two recovered and rushed toward him again.
Chan pulled his umbrella shut, and like the prop cane he’d used in a recital once, he twirled it around to the knife end. Without thinking much about it, he drove it into one, pulled it out with all the strength he could muster, and moved on to the next one.
Then he ran and continued to swing his umbrella against the undead you’d knocked away but were quickly recovering. A cold wave of fear flushed down his spine when he turned the corner to reach the next set of stairs, and, out of the corner of his eyes, a zombie fell from the sky next to him.
The groans of the undead echoed through the tightly encompassed staircase. Still, above it all, he could hear your cries as he raced on.
Above him, on the thirteenth floor, you smacked a zombie with a makeshift shield Chan had made for you. You cried as you held out the backrest of a dining chair in front of you, gripping the handles Chan had hammered into it until your fingers felt stiff around it. As if the setback you’d suffered hours before because of the noise Chan was making building you a shield hadn’t been enough to give you jelly legs the entire time.
Two zombies blocked your path up to the fourteenth floor. Eyes glazed over into a cloudy white, skin grayed, and half their hair missing like a doll with half its hair ripped out. It took you a minute to fall into a horrible realization.
“Chan!” You cried. “I can’t! I can’t!”
Your neighbors limped forward, ankles bent into awkward angels. Clicking groans slipped past their lips, and when one lurched forward, hand outstretched, you cried and lifted your shield to block them.
“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” You cried.
You hid behind your shield, walking backward until your back hit the wall. The knife you hid in your boots lay long forgotten.
“Y/N!” Chan yelled as he reached the landing you were on.
The zombie closest to you lurched forward again, only this time it focused on him.
Chan nodded to himself, then fixed his grip on the knifebrella. The zombie had only taken a couple more steps forward when Chan rushed it. He opened the umbrella and, using the thick ferrule, pushed it backward, hitting it repeatedly until it stumbled onto the other and it struggled against the wall.
“Go!”
“I can’t! I can't! I can't! I can't!”
“Just run! Don’t look at them! Run!”
The pair of undead jostled forward against his open umbrella before you listened to him and took off running. He pushed against the pair one last time before pivoting on his heels and following after you.
“Chan!” You yelled from the floor above him, leaning over the railing and pointing at him.
No. Distracted by the pair of zombies that had been on you, Chan failed to take in the rest of his surroundings. The amount of time it had taken for you to move had been enough for the zombies he’d left behind to catch up to him.
You were pointing behind him.
His head turned to take a quick glance behind him, but it was too late. The two zombies at the front of the hoard reached for him as they grew nearer, and, by the time Chan caught a glance of them out of the corner of his eyes as he turned, they had already grabbed the back of his shirt.
He stumbled as they pulled him, and he twisted around, screaming as he fell.
You screamed.
The undead were quick to reach for Chan, and your neighbors fast to recover and join the two at the front.
Chan floundered for his knifebrella, and as he did, the pair in front of him lurched forward. Their skinned, bony fingers wrapped around his ankles, pressing into his jean-clad legs like razor-sharp needles. Chan screamed, almost dropping the knifebrella at the sensation. He tried to shake from their grip. It didn’t work.
The pair bent forward, intent clear as their jaws split apart.
Chan struggled, twisting to and fro until, in his increasing panic, he kicked and hit both of the zombies on their jaws. A second of unbridled relief as they let go of his legs, then he raced to open his umbrella. The other two zombies had reached him, and the rest were only a couple steps away from joining them.
“Chan, run! Run!”
The canopy of his umbrella hit your neighbors’ faces, and they stumbled backward. The other two recovered and latched onto Chan’s leg again. He kicked them, then stumbled onto his feet. He closed his umbrella as quickly as he could. Then as the horde became one ran up the stairs to join you.
“Go! Go!” He screamed as he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you as he ran.
How much longer? How much longer until the two of you reached the fifteenth floor? Every step he took felt like an eternity. Is this what it felt like to walk through a desert without knowing when you’d reach civilization again?
He burned, and it felt like it would never end.
“Here!” You yelled suddenly, fumbling with the zipper of your duffle bag.
Sweat ran down Chan’s face as he waited for you to find the key to the floor’s door, watching as the horde pushed forward relentlessly. Only a couple ever fell over the railings or onto the floor, getting trampled by the others.
“Hurry,” he struggled to choke out.
“I got it!” You pushed the key into the lock and, a moment later, opened the door.
Chan meant to stop you from going through first, but before he could find the energy to force the words out, you had already rushed through the door, stopping once inside to hold it for him. He shook himself out of his stupor in an instant and shook his head as the door clanged shut behind him.
He breathed heavily as he scolded you. “You shouldn’t have rushed inside. What if there had been more inside.”
You apologized, eyes rimmed red from crying.
His concerns, though valid, were for naught, he soon realized, as he noticed the entire floor was empty. He glanced at you, and you pointed to the only door on the left side of the hall.
Chan nodded and, without uttering a single word, motioned for you to follow behind him. You gave him the key as he passed you. Nothing happened. No one else was on the floor, your neighbors, your only neighbors, had already joined the undead.
He pressed an ear against the door, and when he heard nothing, he knocked.
No response.
He held his breath as he unlocked the door. The knob felt slippery under his palm, and it slipped out of his hand twice before he had a strong enough grip around it to turn it.
He pushed it open. “Hello? Is there anyone here?”
Silence. “I thought--” he coughed, then continued, voice hoarse-- “I thought you said you had a roommate.”
“I do.”
He nodded and walked inside. You followed him, closing the door behind you though you felt it was safer to leave it open. Chan moved through the loft-like dorm quickly, flinging doors open, and when he was satisfied, returned to the living room.
“There isn’t—” he struggled to say. His voice, apart from being hoarse, was growing quieter and thinner. “Isn’t anyone here.”
Your eyes darted around the room, searching for clues about your roommate, when Chan started coughing uncontrollably. He wheezed in the impossibly short breaks between coughs as he tried to catch his breath. His knees gave way, and sooner than you could hold out an arm to help steady him, he kneeled on the ground clutching a hand to his chest.
“Chan,” you gasped.
You knelt next to him as he sank even further, pressing his face against the carpeted floor. That’s when you noticed the growing stain on his legs. You shuddered before you reached for his leg, pushing him onto his side so you could see his legs clearly.
The lower half of his jean-clad leg was ripped into shreds, held together if only by the undisturbed hem. Following the paths of the shredded denim, both long and short scratches bled and seeped through what was left of his pant leg.
“Oh no,” you whimpered, tears starting to stream down your face again.
“What do I--What do I--” you sobbed behind your hand-- “I need--I need a first aid kit.”
You stood on shaky legs and ran to your bedroom on the left side of the dorm. You shot straight for the bathroom. Luckily it was to your immediate left when you entered your room and rummaged through the cupboards looking for the first aid kit.
After you’d found it and rushed back to Chan, you found him sitting up. His coughing fit had lessened, though now his face was red, and sweat ran down his temples.
He stared at his injured leg blankly, and it wasn’t until you kneeled in front of him and reached for his leg that he came to.
“No, don’t.” It came out as a whisper, though it sounded much louder to himself.
“Chan, I—” you cried— “I have to.”
“No.” He shook his head. “There’s no point.”
“No.”
“You’re going to have to kill me.”
“I can’t!” You sobbed. “I can’t! I can’t! I won’t!”
“You have to. I’m—they did this.” Another coughing fit, though it ended quickly. “I might be turning. I probably am. You have to.”
“I can’t,” you cried, “Please, just let me stop the bleeding. T-take off your mask and drink some water.”
He shook his head again, “No. It’s better this way.”
“Chan, please.”
His arms trembled, and just as they gave out, you caught him. He shuddered, and you realized that apart from sweating, his face had also paled significantly.
“You have,” he mumbled slowly, “to let me go. Kill me.”
You shook your head, “I can’t.”
He was silent for a moment, though it felt like hours to you, then, “Do you have rope?”
“My roommate did.”
“Then—” his head lolled on your shoulder.
“Chan?”
“Tie me to something. And give me my phone. Please.”
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
You lay across the couch hours later, back completely against the bottom cushions, staring at the ceiling without end. There was a buzz in your ears, and no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe it was insomnia, or maybe you just couldn’t help staying awake. You were listening. No matter how much you tried to focus on everything else, you could not stop listening.
The afternoon had disappeared without much notice. You’d helped (practically dragged) Chan to your roommate’s room. Her bed had posts, and after finding the rope, you’d tied his arms and feet to them, leaving only his right arm free for the moment.
Chan had unceremoniously dumped his bag on the floor next to the bed when you’d set him down. You rummaged through it, through the food and the clothes he’d packed until you found it. He’d placed his phone inside a baggie, then hidden it inside a pair of folded pants.
You’d given him the phone, and while he was distracted, you’d gone to work on his leg.
You could still picture him, feel the way he protested your care. Eventually, he relented, struggling with his legs tied to the posts sapped his energy quicker than he wanted, and with the little he had left, he focused on his phone. When he was done, you had to finish tying his arms. The sun had long gone down by then, though it was only when you left the bedroom, the door clicking shut, and Chan choking out a goodbye, that you noticed how dark it had gotten.
It was the same type of darkness you stewed in now, not one of early nightfall but of the dead. Empty and still.
You had tried turning on the lights at first, but that had only made everything feel suffocating and taunting.
You didn’t dare check what time it was. You only wanted to sleep. You only wanted to forget.
Perhaps, you thought, you should be thankful you had yet to hear a peep from Chan’s room-- your roommate’s room. Your rich roommate that, at the beginning of the semester, had demanded her room be soundproof. You wouldn’t know what state Chan was in unless you went to go look yourself.
You really wished the buzzing in your ears would lull you to sleep. If you were lucky, everything would have only been a nightmare. But it didn’t, and if the buzzing wouldn’t stop, then it was only maddening.
You ran a hand down your face in exasperation, then pressed them against your ears. It stopped. Releasing a sigh, you let your hands drop from your ears, and you heard the buzzing again.
Buzz. Buzz. Pause. Buzz. Pause. Buzz.
You sat up, head swiveling in all directions as you tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. When you couldn’t figure it out, you stood up and made your way through the living room. Fear ran up your spine when the buzzing grew stronger the closer you got to Chan’s room.
Then you saw it, and your heart jumped into your throat. It stopped buzzing, and after a pause, it buzzed again, and you realized what you were looking at.
Chan’s phone lay face upward, peeking through the gap from the open zipper of his duffle bag.
You reached for it, silencing it once you ran your finger down the notifications. No other notifications came in afterward, and the room plunged into silence again. You clutched it in your hand as you made your way back to the couch. You’d only just sat down when it buzzed again.
A new message.
Was it his family or his friends? Had he given them his goodbyes?
It was certain that a lot of people hadn’t been able to say their goodbyes to the people they cared for when everything went down. Would you have to tell Chan’s?
You paused, thumb hovering over the stack of messages, wondering if you would even be able to unlock his phone. Then you slid your thumb across the topmost one and watched as it unlocked without an issue. A barrage of messages flew across the screen.
You hesitated to scroll through them until you found the first one, then decided against it. Instead, you read the ones that were already on the screen.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
- Today 02:32am -
Cheol WE CANT [2:32AM]
Jeonghan FUCK SEUNGCHEOL WE HAVE TO GO THERES NO OTHER OPTION HERE [2:32am]
Jeonghan DONT YOU EVEN CARE [2:32AM]
Cheol ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO ACCUSE ME OF THAT [2:33am]
Cheol NEITHER OF US HAVE A CAR JEONGHAN IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE TO GET THERE BY FOOT [2:33am]
Cheol DO YOU REALIZE HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE US TO GET THERE?! [2:34am]
Jeonghan THAT DOESNT MATTER WE HAVE TO GO WE HAVE TO FIND HIM [2:34am]
Cheol Don’t you understand Jeonghan? It’s been hours. If Chan was bit, he’s turned by now. He’s dead. Even if we looked for him, we wouldn’t be able to find him. [2:35am]
Jeonghan HES HERE YOU’RE OKAY [2:40am]
Cheol CHAN YOU ASSHOLE [2:40am]
It’s then that you decide to answer.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan I’m not Chan. I’m sorry. [2:42am]
Chan I’m Y/N. I heard the phone buzzing nonstop and realized Chan may still have family alive. I was going to tell them, you, what happened. But I guess you already know. I’m really sorry. [2:43am]
Seungkwan You’re that girl he saved [2:44am]
Jeonghan WHAT HAPPENED?! JUST GIVE US THE ADDRESS OF CHAN’S BUILDING [2:48am]
Jeonghan How’s Chan? [2:44am]
Cheol Could you tell us where you are? Chan didn’t say [2:44am]
Jeonghan If it’s more convenient, you could just share your location [2:45am]
Chan I don’t think there’s much of a point in telling you where we are. Chan’s gone. [2:47am]
Cheol So it’s true then? He’s one of them? [2:48am]
Your fingers stalled over the screen as you reread Jeonghan’s last message. What happened? He’d gotten hurt saving you again. You answered them, telling them where the two of you were first. Then noticed the message’s progress bar was stuck at fifty percent. The screen blackened as you waited. Sighing, you decided to rummage through Chan’s bag to find his phone’s charger.
When you found it, you plugged it into the outlet on the wall behind the tv and sat down on the floor next to it. Half an hour had passed in utter silence. You’d folded your arms over a corner of the tv’s stand and burrowed your head in it, when it was broken. Chan’s phone buzzed in quick succession, incoming messages blinding you as the home screen turned on.
You opened it as quickly as you could, noting how your message rested underneath all of the others.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Hello? Hello? [2:52am]
Seungkwan Did she leave? [2:53am]
Cheol I think she left. [2:53am]
Seungkwan SHE LEFT [2:54am]
Seungkwan Why would she leave? We weren’t being too pushy were we? What do we do now? [2:55am]
Seungkwan Maybe we should call? [2:55am]
Jeonghan You’re right we should [2:56am]
Cheol Are you kidding me? We can’t call. What if we get her killed? [2:56am]
Jeonghan Chan probably left the phone on vibrate though [2:57am]
Cheol Let’s just wait. If she doesn’t come back, then we call [2:57am]
Cheol Okay? [2:57am]
Seungkwan I guess [2:58am]
Jeonghan Fine. We’ll wait. [2:58am]
Chan We’re in my dorm, in the Lothlórien dormitory building of the university, not his. Chan was getting sick and the power was starting to fail. I have medicine here and my roommate had a new power generator independent of the university ones, and a satellite phone. I volunteered my dorm but it’s all the way on the other side of campus from where his is. We ran into a lot of problems the moment we stepped out and it practically took us the entire day to get here. I didn’t think there would be many zombies on the emergency staircase, but there were and that’s where it happened. We were almost there. It was my fault. We were almost there when I choked. He saved me and then he stayed behind to fight off the zombies that were getting closer. It happened so fast I don’t know if he tripped or what but they were on him, and when we got to my dorm, he had blood running down his leg. [3:22am]
Chan I’m really sorry. I cleaned the wounds but that wasn’t going to stop his turning. He asked me to tie him to the bed posts. So that’s what I did. [3:22am]
Seungkwan He asked you to do WHAT [3:22am]
Chan I’m really sorry. I swear I didn’t leave, the cell signal comes and goes now. It’s one of the reasons we decided to come here. [3:23am]
Jeonghan The university has power generators for a reason [3:23am]
Chan I know. But they’re old and they took a long time to come on. We don’t even know how many things were left on, and those will end up sucking the juice out of it too. Chan didn’t even have medicine in his dorm. We had to do this. [3:25am]
After sending your message, you stared at the bubble unblinkingly. The bright light stung your eyes, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. It dimmed, eventually, and once it had completely shut off, tears built at the rim of your eyes. You huffed at the sensation, sniffing as you rubbed them.
Ten minutes had passed when Chan’s phone buzzed again.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Cheol You don’t need to keep justifying yourself. [3:26am]
Seungkwan So that’s it then? Chan’s dead [3:27am]
Minghao I’m sorry to say this. But, if he was bleeding that bad, he would have needed actual medical attention. [3:29am]
Seungkwan Really, Minghao? [3:29am]
Jeonghan Hello? [3:29am]
Minghao I’m only stating the facts. For all we know, Chan didn’t turn into a zombie. He just died of blood loss. [3:30am]
Jeonghan Hello?? [3:30am]
Chan Sorry. The signal disappeared again. [3:37am]
Jeonghan You said one of the reasons Chan and you agreed to move to your dorm was a satellite phone. Why? [3:39am]
Chan My roommate had one. She used to show it off, the phone that didn’t rely on towers for signal but a satellite in space [3:41am]
Jeonghan You found it then? [3:41am]
Chan Not exactly [3:42am]
Jeonghan Then find it so you can finish telling us what happened to Chan [3:43am]
Cheol Jeonghan… [3:43am]
Jeonghan We can still go to him. See that he’s dead with our own eyes [3:45am]
You swallowed at the texts. The phone buzzed again as another message came in, but instead of looking at the new text, you glanced at your roommate’s door. Tears pooled in your eyes again.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Find that phone [3:46am]
Chan I can’t [3:48am]
Jeonghan Why not? [3:48am]
Chan It’s in the same room as Chan [3:49am]
Seungkwan Minghao had a point. I don’t understand why everyone is ignoring it. [3:50am]
Seungkwan When’s the last time you checked on Chan? He may not even be a zombie [3:51am]
Chan’s ‘goodbye’ as you closed the door echoed inside of you.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan I haven’t. When I was leaving, Chan asked me to shut the door. He didn’t want me to see him turn [3:53am]
Seungkwan Disobey him then. Go inside, find the satellite phone, take a picture and send it to us. [3:55am]
Chan I can’t [3:55am]
Seungkwan You have to [3:56am]
Seungkwan You said you tied him to the bed. Even if he turned, he won’t be able to go near you. [3:57am]
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
Tears slipped down your cheeks without end. You’d been staring at your roommate’s door for an eternity. Your sobs were silent, and your breathing was practically nonexistent. You didn’t know if it was the blood rushing up to your face or a void that had suddenly come into existence, but you couldn’t hear anything.
Was Chan dead or dead?
How were you supposed to find the satellite phone with Chan in the room either dead or wanting to kill you?
You had to, though. Your hand curled around the door’s knob. You had to do this for Chan’s friends. For Chan.
Wiping the tears off your face with your other hand, you took a deep breath, turned the knob, and took a step inside.
Darkness shrouded everything inside, save for a sliver of moonlight that slipped past the window’s curtains. That sliver stretched itself across the room until it came to a rest on Chan’s profile. But even that wasn’t enough to reveal to you his fate.
Your options were clear.
“Chan?” You whispered, eyes straining to see him through the dark.
There was no answer but the sound of shuffling sheets.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you hesitated to turn on the lights.
After taking one long shuddering breath, you groped along the wall next to the door, searching for the light switch. It met your fingers suddenly as if it had been anticipating your arrival. Rather than giving yourself a moment to brace, you let your thumb brush against the switch and blind you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, then opened them slowly, gaze trained on the floor in front of your feet.
Fear gnawed at your insides, though there was no sound, no movement. Then you forced yourself to look up, and your gaze landed on Chan’s covered body.
A breath caught in your throat.
Chan lay on the bed in the same way you had left him, chest rising and falling evenly. A layer of sweat covered his face, and his cheeks burned a bright red.
“Chan?” You croaked from the door. When he didn’t answer, didn’t stir, you moved forward until you were kneeling on the floor beside him.
“Chan?” You called out to him again.
No response.
“Chan?” You tried again, this time placing a hand on his shoulder. It only takes a couple of seconds for it to seep through the fabric of his shirt and sting your cold hands.
You flinch, then press the back of your hand against his forehead.
He groaned at the sensation, head shifting on the pillow but not waking.
“You’re alive,” you whispered, shuddering when the tears you’d been holding at bay finally fell.
You moved, unaware. Chan’s feverish body burned so permanently into your eyes that you only realized you had moved from his side when you caught a glimpse of your tear-stained face on the medicine cabinet’s mirror as you opened it.
A shudder ran down your spine as you focused on the contents of the cabinet.
“Medicine,” you mumbled as you rifled through boxes and flipped bottles around so you could see what they were for.
“Medicine,” you continued to mumble as you searched. It had to be around there somewhere. Your roommate had been sick only a week before the world ended.
Your fingers brushed against a bottle shoved all the way to the back. You grabbed it, pulling it out without caring that you were pushing everything else out and into the sink.
You measured out the appropriate amount into the little cup it came with at his side and then placed the bottle on the nightstand so you could tip its content past his parted lips. It, the syrup, seeped out painfully slow. You glared at it as it trailed past the edge of the cup, past his lips, and down his throat, willing it to move faster. It never moved past its snail’s pace.
When all that remained was the syrup that stubbornly clung to its side, you set it aside and rushed outside to fetch a water bottle from the duffle bag.
Uncapped and full, the water threatened to spill out of your shaking hands and onto Chan. It took you a moment to swallow your feelings before you were able to force your hands to stop shaking. Then, you let a trickle of water run past his lips.
Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, you held his hand through the night, mindlessly drawing circles with your thumb on his clammy skin. Hours passed as you sat there, oblivious to the rising sun, until Chan began to stir. He groaned, eyes crinkling at the edges as he squeezed them shut tighter. You let go of his hand then.
“Chan?” You lurched forward, hands coming to a rest on his shoulders. You shook him a little, just as much as you dared, without fear of startling him. “Chan, wake up. You need to wake up.”
He groaned but opened his eyes anyway.
“How do you feel?”
He stared at you, blinking lethargically, as if he couldn’t really see you or, perhaps, couldn’t understand what you were saying.
“Y/N,” he finally croaked after a minute.
“How do you feel, Chan?”
“Y/N, you need to get out of here.” He spoke hoarsely, you noted, though it was also gravely. “You need to leave.”
You shook your head and scooted closer, “Chan, you’re--”
“Go,” he croaked again, grabbing one of your hands and casting it off his shoulder. “I’m going to turn.”
“No.” You insisted. “Chan, you’re only sick. If you were going to turn, you would have done it by now.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Chan,” you sighed.
“Go, Y/N. Go.”
“If you don’t trust me, trust your friends. I’ve been speaking to them--your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing--and Jeonghan, I think it was, said that the change is nearly instant.” You leaned forward to cup his face. “If you were going to change, it would have happened by now.”
A shudder racked his body. “What if it’s just taking longer?”
“It’s not.”
He stilled, and you swore he blinked even slower than he had been and hummed. Then he shifted and nuzzled into one of your palms, pressing a kiss onto it.
You grinned in an instant, then realized his breathing was evening out.
“Oh, Chan, wait. You need to wake up. I gave you medicine in the middle of the night. You need to eat before sleeping again.”
He hummed but made no motion to wake up.
“Chan,” you insisted, voice taking on a slight whine. “Sit up, please. I’ll make food right now.”
He didn’t move, didn’t sit up as you asked still, you left him to rummage through the pantries.
It’s been nearly a month since you’d stepped foot inside your dorm. Any conception you held about the food there was, or had long since been eaten, was nonexistent now. You practically had to eat your own scream when you found a box of uncooked pasta.
Your mind buzzed as you prepared the pasta until you were nearly finished, and you remembered Jeonghan and the others. The long wooden spoon you were using to scoop out the pasta clattered against the side of the pot you were using as it slipped out of your fingers.
“Shit,” you mumbled before picking up the spoon again and filling your own plate.
Chan remained asleep when you reentered the room. But, rather than wake him, you placed the plates on the nightstand, pushing aside the bottle of water, the medicine bottle, and its cup.
Tendrils of heat wafted into the air as you searched your roommate’s (ex-roommate, you corrected yourself with a small frown) room. While the power generator had a permanent spot in the broom closet, by the front door, where the fuse box was installed, you didn’t know exactly where she kept her emergency satellite phone. You figured it would be in this room and that you could spend a while looking for it as you waited for the tendrils wafting over your plates to thin.
Seven minutes and a room full of strewn clothes later, you find it. Shoved all the way in the back of her wardrobe, hidden by piles of clothes she hadn’t bothered to hang or fold, you find the satellite phone still in the box you figure it had originally come in.
You tap away on the phone, getting to know it as quickly as you can before taking out Chan’s and finding Jeonghan’s number. You send him a quick, simple message.
###########
########## It’s me [7:32am]
Less than a minute later, the satellite phone buzzed.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
########## has been added to the chat
Jeonghan How’s Chan? [7:33AM]
You pointed the phone’s camera toward Chan and took a quick picture.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
########## [attachment] [7:34am]
########## He’s alive. He’s got a fever but I’ve already given him medicine. I’m going to wake him so he can eat right now [7:34am]
“Chan,” you shook his shoulder after setting the phone down next to you. “Chan, I need you to wake up. You need to eat.”
He groaned in protest, almost syncing in perfect time with the buzzing coming from the satellite phone. You reached for it and grinned when you saw the messages that were coming in.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan HES ALIVE [7:34am]
Cheol THAT’S GREAT NEWS! [7:34am]
Jeonghan He’s alive! I told you he was alive! [7:35am]
Seungkwan That lazy bastard. He needs to wake up. [7:35am]
Hoshi Chan! [7:36am]
Hoshi Wait hes sick [7:36am]
You shook your head as they continued to shoot messages between each other, pitching the phone into a constant buzzing. The grin you sported as you shook Chan awake again failed to go unnoticed by him, and it wasn’t long after that he sported a shaky one too.
“Why are you grinning?” He croaked. “Are you--” he went into a coughing fit-- “are you that glad I’m alive?”
“I am,” you laughed as you untied his restraints and helped him into a sitting position. “Very glad. But I don’t think my happiness compares to the happiness running through your friends.”
“My friends?”
“Mmm. Your friends.” You showed him the still buzzing phone.
He laughed. “Seems like them.”
You put down the phone and reached for his plate, “Do you think you can eat by yourself, or do you need me to feed you?”
He shook his head with a small smile, “I can feed myself.”
“Okay,” you say, handing him his plate.
The two of you eat in silence, staring at the cloud-filled sky through the window. The food on your plates dwindles slowly, cooling quickly between bites, but it doesn’t matter. The two of you are at peace, mind free of any and all thoughts. That is until you’re startled out of your trance by a choking sound.
You whip around to look at Chan, whose choking has turned into garbled coughing.
“Chan? Chan, what’s wrong?”
You pound his back until he stops coughing and manages to choke out a single word.
“Water.”
You reach over to the nightstand to grab it and hand it to him. He gulps it down, and when he’s done, takes long wheezing breaths until he calms down and slumps down against the headboard.
“Did you swallow before chewing? What happened?”
Chan nods. Once.
It should be final, but something about his nod makes you ask again.
“Is that really it? You swallowed before chewing?”
It takes longer for him to nod this time.
“Chan?”
He takes a glance at you and looks away just as quickly. He coughs, then clears his throat.
“Are those….” he hesitates, “your…. Are those panties?” He asks, eyes frozen on a pile in front of the window.
You only glance at them before narrowing your eyes at him, “Eyes on me, sir.”
He looks at you then for a moment, then goes back to eating the food on his plate. But not before his eyes flick downward on you for a single second, and his cheeks turn red, and you know it isn’t from the fever he’s running.
A snicker threatens to leave you, and you swallow it just as it’s making its way up your throat.
“Sorry,” he says suddenly, quietly.
You shake your head as you stand, holding out your hand for his plate.
“Get some more rest, Chan. I’ll wake you when it’s time for you to take your medicine again.”
You’re halfway out the door when you throw a look behind yourself and catch him looking at you from under the comforter.
“And, for the record, those aren’t mine. They were my roommate’s.”
Time seemed to move slowly after that. You washed plates and put away the food, rummaged through the cabinets taking note of everything available, and finally took a shower. You washed your clothes by hand as best you could, hanging them in the shower to dry. Then, when you were sure you’d done all that you needed to, you went back to Chan’s room and sat on the floor next to the bed.
Elusive as sleep had been only hours before, it was quickly turning into the only thing you knew as you sat next to Chan. You could hear him inhale, then exhale, inhale, then exhale, inhale, then exhale. It lulled you to sleep. You had only just begun to nod off when he shifted in his sleep, and the satellite phone came tumbling down from where you had left it on the bed.
You flinched at the clunk.
Buzz. Pause. Buzz.
The amused smile that you wore as you grabbed the phone fell when you read a single message.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Y/N Chan I need one of you to come to the phone! Please! We need to discuss!!! [8:52am]
Cheol Jeonghan. We have to talk about this now. [8:54am]
Jeonghan They need to be here too. We’ll lose them if we don’t work this out with them right now. [8:55am]
Jeonghan Y/N CHAN WAKE UP [8:55am]
Jeonghan WAKE UP [8:55am]
Jeonghan WAKE UP [8:56am]
Wonwoo I think it’s starting. [8:57am]
Cheol We’ll lose everyone else too if we don’t talk about this RIGHT NOW [8:58am]
You scrolled past the blocks of text that followed, afraid of what you’d find at the end since the phone had finally gone silent.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Chan, Y/N, when you see these please reply. [9:27am]
Seungkwan I’ll say it just in case you don’t bother scrolling all the way up Chan [9:28am]
Seungkwan Wonwoo found an emergency broadcast channel online warning everyone that different cities were about to have their water and power shut off. Cell signals are failing us too now. We’ve made a plan. Go back up and read it. [9:32am]
Jeonghan Fill what you can with water. Charge your phones and power banks, and hope the electricity lasts until it’s full. [9:33am]
Jeonghan Get ready to leave. You’re going to have to leave and you’re going to have to do it soon. [9:34am]
########## We can’t leave. Chan’s sick, he can barely stand. [9:51am]
########## Where would we even go [9:51am]
You waited in bated silence for the phone to buzz again. It didn’t. Then, just as you were about to put down the phone, you remembered what you were holding.
With a heavy heart, you typed out another message, hit send, and waited for the message to read as sent.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
########## Write down everyone’s phone number on a piece of paper, mine included. If you can, find an electronics store or somewhere where they sell hiking equipment. They should have satellite phones there too. Be safe.
chapter warnings: allusions/reminders of death (an unnamed side character is said to be dead)
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe? spicier times ahead (not explicitly spicy though) oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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24 Days Since the End
You’re wiping down the coffee table that sits in front of the tv, trying to ignore the muted snow on the screen even as its reflection dances on the surface in front of you, when you hear the click of Chan’s old clock. You waver, hand freezing, but you don’t look. The temptation is too big, and instead, you turn to look for the remote on the couch.
You can hear yourself breathing as you fumble with the remote before unmuting the tv and flipping the channel. The snow turns into a gray screen with the words “NO SIGNAL” in bold, black letters at the center of the screen. You grimace and change the channel again. This time you’re greeted by color bars and the never-ending beep sound that drives you to mute the channel again in panic.
You stare at the screen for a while, fixated on the long beep sound you can no longer hear but echoes in your ears. In the little time you’ve been able to watch tv since the end, you’ve seen ten channels disappear. How many were disappearing each day, you wondered.
What about the radio?
Were the television and radio in your dorm the same? No, you shook your head, willing yourself to stop thinking. It didn’t matter.
You’d just grabbed the dry cloth again when the clock inside the cabinet under the television clicks again, and you freeze.
You’d just grabbed the dry cloth again when the clock inside the cabinet the television rests on clicks again, and you freeze. You still don’t want to look, but you can hear the seconds ticking away in your head, and you cave.
You glance nervously at the clock: 5:15pm.
It’s been hours since Chan left. Where could he be? You asked yourself, chewing on your lips, staring at the clock just as you had been when he had first left. But, just as you could feel yourself growing nervous again, you hear the door open.
You swivel toward the door, clutching the cloth between your hands, when Chan comes bounding in through the door with a bouquet of flowers and his knifebrella in one hand, his duffle bag slung over a shoulder, and a tired smile.
“Honey,” he calls out sweetly, quietly, after he shuts the door, “I’m home.”
“Chan,” you sigh, rushing forward to embrace him after he places the duffle bag and knifebrella on the floor.
“I brought food,” he laughs.
“Mmm,” you hum as your arms tighten around him, your face buried in his chest.
“I brought you some flowers too,” he goes on, and you feel him shift. You could feel his lips hovering near your forehead for a couple of moments before he places a kiss on your forehead. “Come on,” he mumbles, “let’s push the table against the door. Then, we can cuddle on the couch.”
You nod wordlessly, another hum accompanying it, before detaching yourself from him. Then, you accept the flowers he holds in his hands before noticing they’re a mixture of natural and artificial flowers. Confused, you turn back to Chan to ask about them when your eyes lock onto the cut he has running across his left cheek.
The flowers slip from your hands from the shock.
“Chan,” you gasp, hands darting to cover your mouth. “Wha-what happened?”
He chuckles with a hint of sadness as he lifts a hand to graze the clotted wound.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” He answers softly, almost too quietly for you to hear, but you do. “I swear.”
“What happened?” You insist, tears starting to pool in your eyes.
Blood rushes up to his face, “I fell in a bush outside.”
Silence fills the room, and it feels like a lifetime has gone by before you can think of anything to say, and even then, the words erupt from you without a second more of hesitation.
“What?!” It comes out louder than anything you’ve said in the past month, and it startles you. It’s probably an exaggeration, but you can’t help it, not when you start to imagine the reasons why he would have fallen into the bushes in the first place.
There’s shuffling outside and a croaking moan that plunges the two of you into an even deeper silence. And, after a moment of that stressful silence, you rush to push the table against the door. Chan follows. It’s not until the table is firmly against the door and its accompanying chairs have been stacked over it that your voice comes back. Though it returns in a whisper.
“Did you--Why would you--Chan.”
“I swear I wasn’t bit. I-I wasn’t running from them. I saw some flowers growing in the bushes on the way to the stadium, and I didn’t see any zombies--” Tears welled in your eyes again at the word, and a shudder of breath escaped you as he continued-- “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I was startled, that’s it. I heard one of them close by. It sounded like they were coming closer. I got startled, and I tripped on a root. I got scratched by the bush on the way down. But I got away. It wasn’t even close. That was it. I promise.”
“Chan,” you whine at last and pull him into the dorm room’s kitchen as you force your tears to dissipate, “Don’t ever do that again.”
Chan lets you run the faucet’s water and wet a corner of the kitchen’s drying towel to clean the cut on his cheek before speaking again, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to get you some flowers.”
“Flowers aren’t worth your life, Chan.”
“They weren’t that much of a risk,” he smiled nervously, “They were on my way. I just thought….”
“No,” you insist, wiping your nose with the back of your hand after patting his cheek dry, “Please, Chan. I can’t--” you cried-- “I can’t--not without you. I can’t. I can’t do this.”
Chan frowns. He takes the drying towel from your hands and tosses it into the sink behind you. A moment later, he hoists you onto the counter and comes to a stop between your legs. He cups your cheeks and uses his thumbs to wipe the dry tears off the apples of your cheeks.
You weren’t crying, no. Though you could still feel the sting in your eyes. But he could tell you were forcing yourself to keep your tears at bay.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, close enough that you can feel his breath fanning across your face.
You shiver at the feeling. Neither of you had realized how close the two of you had gotten until that very moment.
Everything’s quiet again, but it’s different this time, sucked into Chan’s bubble. The two of you focused entirely on the other, gazes transfixed on the lips of the other.
His voice drops into an even softer whisper, “I--” he gulps-- “I won’t do it again.”
You nod, and the tips of his fingers brush against your hairline, and the tip of your nose grazes his. Your breaths stutter at the contact, and suddenly, it’s too hot. It only takes a second more for the two of you to close the gap between your lips.
The kiss is long and tentative, as if afraid that the other would disappear if they were rougher. Though, with every second that passes, the two of you find yourselves adding pressure to it. His hands stop cradling your face and instead move to grip your waist.
His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt, and it’s a sure thing that you’d wake the following day with bruised crescent moons in the same spots. Those marks would go unnoticed, overshadowed by the other marks that would come to litter your body. One of your hands presses against the base of his neck, while the other toys (tugs) with the strands of hair resting above his nape.
You rest on the counter of his kitchen a couple of more minutes before he pulls you closer and presses into you. You groan at the feeling and tug at his hair when he parts from your lips and goes to work on your neck. You hardly notice when he picks you up from the counter and carries you to the bedroom, only coming to when your back touches the mattress.
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
The next day, the dorm room feels as if it’s been plunged into a perpetual post-orgasmic bliss. Neither of you speaks of the prior night’s activities but hover around each other all morning. He draws open the curtains while you make breakfast, then joins you. He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist lazily, and begins to leave kisses down the side of your neck.
Your eyes flutter shut, and you gulp, face warming as you tilt your head to give him more access. It’s at this moment, while the sunshine filters in from the closed window, the two of you look like a photo of a couple amidst their honeymoon phase.
Hours later, the two of you were cuddled on the couch when you felt Chan tense behind you.
You were flipped through channels, trying to find a channel that worked, when Chan felt his phone buzzing in rapid succession. He shifted almost imperceptibly to pull out his phone and froze when he read the latest message in the notification thread. Another came in, and a chill ran down his spine. They arrived as if they were happening at the very moment, but they were all dated from the night before.
He unlocked his phone as quickly as he could and scrolled to the very first message.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
-Yesterday 5:30 pm-
Jeonghan Chan, are you home yet? [5:30pm]
Jeonghan Chan? [5:35pm]
Cheol Chaaaaan. You need to check in. [5:37pm]
Seungkwan You better be dead since you’re not responding [5:40pm]
Cheol Seungkwan! [5:41pm]
Hoshi Dude [5:41pm]
Seungkwan What? It’s not like he’s actually dead [5:42pm]
Cheol You don’t know that [5:42pm]
Hoshi Not cool [5:42pm]
Cheol What if you just jinxed him? What then? [5:43pm]
Seungkwan I didn’t! Jeez [5:44pm]
Jeonghan That’s great. Great. Now where’s Chan? [5:45pm]
Jeonghan Anyone? [5:45pm]
Jeonghan Anyone at all? [5:46pm]
Jeonghan Chan? [5:46pm]
Vernon Nope [5:50pm]
Vernon Any word from Joshua? [5:50pm]
Hoshi Ooog or Jihoon Wonwoo and Jun? [5:51pm]
Cheol Mingyu, Hao, Seokmin, you three need to check in too [5:52pm]
Jeonghan Fuck. Where is everyone? Every single one of you needs to check in right now [6:00pm]
Hoshi Here here [6:01pm]
Seungkwan Yeah, okay [6:02pm]
Cheol Here [6:02pm]
Mingyu I’m alright. Going to sleep soon. [6:04pm]
Wonwoo I’m fine too. [6:20pm]
Hao Me too [6:23pm]
Jeonghan Jihoon? Seokmin? Joshua? Jun? [6:40pm]
Jeonghan Chan [7:00pm]
Seungkwan That ass. He’s probably asleep [7:03pm]
Jeonghan He said he’d check in when he got home [7:04pm]
Jeonghan He said he’d be home by five right [7:04pm]
Jeonghan Right? [7:05pm]
Cheol Hannie. I’m sure he’s fine. Seungkwan’s right, he probably just fell asleep. Let’s give him til tomorrow before we start freaking out [7:06pm]
Chan sighed. Not only had he forgotten to check in and inadvertently scared Jeonghan, but now he also knew that the cell signal in his area was diminishing.
Chan frowned. What exactly would they be able to do if something had happened to him?
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
- Today 10:52am -
Chan I’m alright. Sorry I didn’t answer. I had a long night. [10:52am]
Seungkwan Ass [10:52am]
Jeonghan CHAN [10:52am]
Jeonghan Where have you been? [10:53am]
Seungkwan You better be. When has Jeonghan ever been awake this early? [10:53am]
Cheol Are you okay? [10:54am]
Chan I’m okay. I swear [10:54am]
Jeonghan THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER US [10:55am]
Chan I was busy. I got distracted [10:55am]
Chan Look I’m really sorry I didn’t answer sooner. I left my phone in my hoodie and I didn’t remember it was there until a couple of minutes ago. [10:56am]
Seungkwan How were you so busy you couldn’t bother to remember to check in? It’s not like the world ended and any one of us could die at any point. OH WAIT [10:57am]
Cheol SEUNGKWAN [10:58am]
Cheol NOT HELPING [10:58am]
Chan I’m SORRY [10:58am]
Seungkwan YOUS TILL HAVENT ANSWERED [10:59am]
Cheol We do deserve an explanation, Chan. We were worried. [11:00am]
Seungkwan I wasn’t! I told you he was fine! He was just being an ass [11:00am]
Jeonghan What were you doing, Chan? [11:01am]
The hair on Chan’s arms bristled. He could feel his blood rushing up into his face.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan I just got a bit busy, alright [11:02am]
Chan I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to make you worry, but don’t ask me to tell you what I was doing. I can’t [11:03am]
Seungkwan Asshole [11:03am]
Chan And while we’re on the subject, I appreciate the concern, but what exactly were you planning to do if I never answered? Come look for me? If I never responded again, all of you need to accept that something might have happened and that I’m probably dead. [11:04am]
Cheol CHAN [11:05am]
Chan It’s TRUE [11:05am]
Jeonghan I REFUSE ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME I REFUSE! I WOULD DO IT! I WOULD GO LOOKING FOR YOU I DONT CARE HOW HARD IT MAY BE BUT ID FIND A WAY TO FUCKING FIND YOU SO DONT TELL ME TO JUST ACCEPT YOUR DEATH I REFUSE [11:06am]
Chan YOU SHOULDN’T [11:07am]
Chan IF I WAS DEAD THERE WOULD BE NOTHING FOR YOU TO FIND. I’D BE ONE OF THEM [11:07am]
Cheol ENOUGH. BOTH OF YOU NEED TO STOP. [11:08am]
Chan I DIDN’T START IT [11:08am]
Cheol NOW [11:09am]
Cheol Chan’s here and he’s fine. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Jun, Joshua, Seokmin, and Jihoon have yet to check in. When’s the last time ANY ONE OF YOU has heard from them [11:10am]
Jeonghan No [11:11am]
Chan No [11:11am]
Cheol Hoshi? Seungkwan? [11:12am]
Chan had been tapping his phone rapidly for the past couple of minutes. Truly, you didn’t know how long he had been texting, having been enraptured by his facial expressions while he did. His mouth had pressed into a thin line, but one corner of his lips twitched every now and then. His eyebrows scrunched inward, then relaxed, then pressed inward again.
His face relaxed, who knows how many minutes since he’d begun, as he stared at the screen for a couple of moments more. His fingers stopped tapping the screen as if waiting, then the screen blackened.
Chan stared at his phone’s screen for a minute, waiting for someone to answer, for his phone to buzz. A coughing fit came upon him as he waited, and soon enough, his phone lay forgotten on the couch’s armrest.
You watched him as it passed, brows furrowed. And when the fit finally ended, you asked him if he was alright.
“Yeah,” he answered, clearing his throat, “It was just an itch.”
“Here,” you said, reaching to the floor in front of the couch where you had left a bottle of water, “Drink this.”
“Thanks.”
The two of you settled back onto the couch afterward, focusing on the old Christmas movie you had managed to find. He coughed every now and again, though not so sparingly that you’d have enough time to forget the coughing fit you’d witnessed. He’d cough again seconds after each bout. It was purposeful you decided after the third time, a way for him to clear his throat and play it off.
You swallowed.
Then an influx of messages sent his phone buzzing.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
-Today 11:14am -
Hoshi I haven’t heard from any of them. Jihoon isn’t responding to my texts either [11:14am]
Seungkwan I texted Seokmin a couple of hours ago, but he hasn’t answered. [11:15am]
Seungkwan Jun too, but he hasn’t answered either [11:16am]
Cheol That’s not good. I think something might be wrong with Joshua too [11:16am]
Hoshi What happened? [11:17am]
Cheol Nothing that I know of. I was hoping he was just ignoring me but it’s been days. He left me on read [11:18am]
Seungkwan He always does that though [11:19am]
Cheol Not for this long [11:19am]
Jeonghan Yeah. Let’s just hope he muted the chat and forgot [11:21am]
Cheol And me :(( Maybe one of you could text him. Please? [11:23am]
Hoshi On it! [11:25am]
Cheol Maybe Jun and Jihoon too? [11:25am]
Seungkwan I’ll do it [11:26am]
Jeonghan Jihoon won’t answer. I already talked to him. [11:26am]
Hoshi He answered?! He hasn’t answered me at all [11:27am]
Cheol Did Chan leave? [11:27am]
Seungkwan He’s probably ignoring us now. [11:28am]
Seungkwan Well Jun isn’t answering either. I hope he’s okay. I can’t imagine how they’re taking care of the baby… [11:28am]
Cheol Let’s not think too depressingly, alright? They were doing fine, even with the baby. Maybe he’s just too tired [11:29am]
Cheol Jeonghan? Are you gonna tell us what’s going on? [11:29am]
Jeonghan I have bad news. Do you remember ____ ? And the group that they joined? Jihoon told me they were picked to go on a scouting mission/supply run in a town nearby. He wanted to go with them too but they didn’t let him. It was a big group and they were supposed to be back before nightfall but they never came back. A single car came back in the morning and they weren’t in it. Jihoon said that ____ died on that supply run. [11:33am]
Chan froze. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. He’d met ____ once when they’d all gone to visit Jihoon at university during winter break, and he’d gotten stuck there. Though Jihoon denied they were dating and that he had any feelings for them at all, even after they had left, Chan was sure Jihoon and ____ would end up together at some point.
They’d met the group in an avalanche of chaos, and still, they had taken on all of their personalities with ease. It had felt like they’d known them the entire time, the same way they had known Jun’s partner most of their lives.
He could practically feel the pain Jihoon was going through.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan He isn’t doing well guys. I don’t think he’s been eating. Or if he is I don’t know, he sounds weaker. [11:34am]
Cheol Oh no [11:35am]
Hoshi ____ dead?! [11:35am]
Seungkwan I feel so bad for Jihoon [11:35am]
Cheol We have to do something. [11:36am]
Seungkwan But what? We’re so far away [11:37am]
Hoshi He’s right. We don’t even know where this base is and I doubt Jihoon will tell us. [11:39am]
The buzzing stopped.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
- Today 11:46am -
Chan I wasn’t ignoring you. I hate to tell you this, especially right now, but I think you’ll be hearing less from me [11:46am]
Seungkwan What do you mean? You can’t just disappear because you’re upset you know [11:47am]
Chan IM NOT UPSET [11:47am]
Chan It just so happens that the signal in my area is starting to get weaker. I doubt I’m going to be able to talk to you for much longer. It comes and goes [11:48am]
Cheol This can’t be happening [11:48am]
Sleep was beginning to take hold of you, eyes drooping even though you were trying to force yourself to stay awake and watch the movie. Chan’s periodic coughing, and the cold air from the oscillating fan on the table, were lulling you to sleep though you struggled to keep your concern at bay.
He’d only just tossed the empty bottle of water on the carpeted floor in front of you--your eyes finally closing as it landed-- when the movie on the television froze. The room was plunged into silence, but neither of you took notice.
Then you were startled awake. The television cried, snow replaced the frozen image, and the volume grew as if one of you were pressing the button on the remote without end.
You sat up, gasping for breath. Chan dropped his phone as he fumbled around the couch, hands darting left and right and in between the cushions before he finally found the remote. He muted the television and started to flip through the channels, looking for one where he could unmute and lower the volume comfortably.
He found one just as the snarling zombies reached your door, and the hairs on your arms bristled. He hurried to lower the volume even more and then shut off the television completely. He pulled you into his chest a second after, pressing a kiss onto your forehead as he laid the two of you down again.
You hid there, trying to fall asleep again, listening to his heartbeat as he grabbed his phone again.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Maybe that’s why the others aren’t answering? [11:50am]
Cheol Maybe. What are we going to do about it? [11:52am]
Chan There’s nothing that CAN be done [11:55am]
Chan A horde of zombies is at my door right now. What are you going to do about it? NOthing. There’s nothing that you can do. Even the signal on my tv is starting to die [11:59am]
Seungkwan You ass [11:55am]
Cheol Something I DONT KNOW WHST BUT SOMETHING [11:56am]
Hoshi Crap. Does anyone remember where they said it began? Was it near Chan’s uni [11:57am]
Chan sighed. So, it was happening again. He considered going outside. Maybe there would be a better signal.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Is it happening right now? That second text [11:59am]
Chan Yeah [12:00pm]
Chan I didn’t realize it until now but I dont think I’ve been able to find a news channel at all today [12:00pm]
Chan waits for them to respond. Half an hour goes by, and nothing comes. His phone locked itself long ago, and he’s just beginning to fall asleep when an onslaught of messages sends his phone into a buzzing frenzy.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
- Today 12:02pm -
Hoshi Hello? [12:02pm]
Hoshi Oh no. Is it happening to me now too? [12:02pm]
Jeonghan Have you tried the internet? [12:03pm]
Cheol Will that even work with news channels? Isn’t the online version just the broadcast but uploaded online? [12:04pm]
Wonwoo Simulcast sometimes. Yeah. But, for that to work, people would still have to go to work. [12:05pm]
Seungkwan Are you saying that the rest of the country might have already fallen. [12:05pm]
Wonwoo Yeah. Or the world. [12:06pm]
Cheol Wonwoo no [12:06pm]
Wonwoo I’m just stating possibilities. That being said, I don’t think the rest of the world, or our country, has fallen yet. [12:07pm]
Seungkwan That what do you think is going on [12:08pm]
Jeonghan Chan? [12:09pm]
Hoshi Guys? [12:09pm]
Wonwoo I think that in the panic, the signal-receiving antennas were probably disturbed. They’re probably still being disturbed right now, and that’s why channels are disappearing one by one. Not just because the cities are being overtaken. The same is probably true about cell phone signals. [12:012pm]
Cheol Alright. Well, then we’ll find a way to make sure we can stay in touch. [12:13pm]
Wonwoo I’ll be honest. I don’t think there is one. [12:13pm]
Cheol Maybe not right now. But we’ll figure something out [12:14pm]
Jeonghan Until then, everyone who still has access to some news channel or something should keep us updated. If they’re up for it. [12:15pm]
Jeonghan I just checked and I’ve still got some [12:16pm]
Cheol Me too [12:17pm]
Seungkwan Same [12:17pm]
Jeonghan Ok. [12:17pm]
Seungkwan I don’t know if you guys have seen, but I think we should consider the safe zones that the news are saying are being set up [12:20pm]
Chan huffs when the messages stop. The last time he’d watched the news, he hadn’t seen anything about safe zones being built. He hadn’t even seen a proposal to rescue everyone still alive and trapped.
He coughed as he sat up and, when he was done, mumbled under his breath about trying to find a better signal outside.
“No!” You gasped, speaking the loudest you had since the end. You’d sat up as if you were thunder and lightning, your hand shooting out to grip the front of his shirt. “Please don’t go outside. You’re sick.”
“I’m not--”
“Yes, you are! You’re coughing so much if you go outside, they’ll hear you. Chan, please,” you begged.
His head hung. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
Hours later, after the sun had already gone down, and the two of you slid under the covers, you came to a stark conclusion.
Chan brushed his teeth as you changed into the pair of boxers and a tee shirt that he had given you when you heard him give a throaty cough. You heard him finish rinsing and then clear his throat three times until he was satisfied.
You sat on the edge of the bed, pinching the comforter you sat on, waiting for Chan to come out of the bathroom.
You were nervous. Would he sleep with you tonight?
You had slept together the night before, limbs entwined long after your laborious activities. He’d treated you kindly all day, hugging you, cuddling with you on the couch as you let yourselves get lost in the tv’s few remaining channels.
Nothing had to change because of what you’d done together. That much was clear.
But you couldn’t help but remember the way he had wrapped his arms around you in the morning or the kisses he’d scattered down your neck.
The bathroom door opened before you could fall into the memory, close your eyes and pretend you were there again.
“Are you--will you sleep with me tonight?” The words left you without much thought, but as your brain caught up with your words, you grew flustered. “I-I mean, I meant, I didn’t mean it like that! I just wanted to know if you’re going to be sleeping here--in the bed, with me-- today?”
Chan laughed shyly, you decided when you saw him rub the back of his neck and the blush on his cheeks.
“If you don’t mind, s--”
The lights went out in that instant. Your eyes fought to adjust to the blackened room, and before long, you could only make out Chan’s rough silhouette, stumbling toward the window in his room.
He opened them only a sliver, but it was enough for a streak of moonlight to hit the mirror hanging on his door and reflect back toward the bed as if it were a spotlight.
You look at him, standing behind the beam of moonlight that hit the mirror, half shrouded in darkness.
“Guess the power outages are starting.”
“The university has emergency generators.”
“How long do you think they’ll last? They’ve probably been there since the university was founded.”
You shrugged, unable to answer him or look him in the eyes.
In the lull of the conversation, the lights come back on and blind the two of you.
“Turn them off,” you gasped, covering your eyes.
There was a shuffling, a grunt as he hit a dresser, then a soft click. “They’re off.”
“Thank you.”
The two of you stared at each other in silence again. Then
“Bed, then?”
“Yeah,” you nodded.
You crawled to the head of the bed, slipping under the covers without much of a sound. Chan followed, and the two of you lay there, bathed in moonlight, trying to fall asleep despite the storms ranging in both of your heads.
Far more disconcerted by the truths you were trying and failing to avoid, you took a deep breath.
“Chan?” You asked faintly to gauge if he were still awake or not. Though truthfully, you knew it was because you were cowardly.
“Yeah?” He responded after a beat.
“My roommate… she’s rich.” You paused to swallow the panic. “We lived on the top floor of the Lothlórien dorms. No one knew, but the dorms on the top floor ran independently of the rest of the building. She even had a power generator of her own. She kept it in my room for a while. There was this satellite phone she used to brag about all the time too. She would give me her dad’s card to keep the kitchen stocked, and once I got so angry that I bought medicine to keep for myself.”
You breathed through your nose, lips pursed.
“What I’m trying to say is that if you want--if you think we should-- we can go there. I-I still had the key on me when you rescued me.”
Chan shuffled next to you, turning so he rested on his side and pressed into your back. He hugged you and pressed a kiss onto your bare shoulder.
“Okay. But let’s not talk about this anymore tonight. Let’s just go to sleep.”
chapter warnings: allusions of death, makeshift weapons
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe? oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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20 Days Since the End
It’s near the end of the month when Chan accepts that the food he’d managed to bring back on that food run where he’d found you, days after the world had ended, has gone past dwindling and is beginning to disappear. He’d managed to ignore it for days, sleeping the most he could and watching whatever channels still managed to broadcast their signals.
Most channels he’d previously found were gone now, and those still active broadcasted more and more news than entertainment. These were from the cities in the south of the country, where they’d managed to hastily barricade themselves and cut themselves off from the rest of the country before the undead reached them.
But that was then, and now those cities were beginning to fall too as they were overwhelmed, and the undead made their way through forgotten roads and alleys that were left unbarred. For the most part, it’s all he really knows. He never manages to get past the little commercials they still like to interpose between a series of stories announcing the segments still to come. He’ll flip past those channels or turn off the tv, then slip into an uneasy nap on the couch.
You’d join him on the couch every now and again, but for the most part, you’d spend the day in his room. A week passed before you decided to eat lunch on the floor in front of the tv with him. By then you’d stay on the couch with him too, watching as he flipped through channels until either one of you found something you wanted to watch.
That’s where you were today, lying on the couch with Chan with your back pressed against his chest. He had an arm curled around your waist, his hand pointing the remote lazily at the television. He rested his head in the palm of his other hand while the top of your head pressed against the biceps of his arm.
It was easy to trust him. You probably shouldn’t trust him, not as easily as you were. But he was safe, he felt safe, and all you really wanted was to spend time around him.
It was maddening to spend time alone in his room. You paced to and fro in between breaks that alternated between lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling mindlessly until your back hurt, and sitting on the ground next to his window, watching the sky outside through a gap in the curtains.
When you were with him, you could ignore everything, ignore your thoughts and the world around you. All you had to do was focus on the warmth you felt radiating off of Chan.
It happened wordlessly. You’d felt bad about it after the first time, but when he offered to cuddle with you again the day after, you agreed without a second thought. The two of you would lull into sleep not long after.
On this day, weeks after the world came to an end, you were moments away from falling into a light slumber when Chan’s phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of the two of you.
The two of you sighed, nearly whining, as the two of you were forced to sit up so he could reach his phone. As he read the messages (you noted he didn’t bother to open them), you took it upon yourself to keep flipping through the channels until he was done, and you lay down again.
He sighed again, almost imperceptibly. You wouldn’t have heard if you hadn’t been sitting next to him. Then, he spoke reluctantly, “Y/N, we need to talk.”
You hummed, turning to look at him as you stopped on a channel that was rerunning episodes from a 90s sitcom. “What’s up?”
He visibly swallowed, “I- Well-- Our food is running out. I don’t think we’ll have enough to finish the month, let alone the week.”
“What--” you choked out-- “What are you saying?”
Your heart had already stopped when he grimaced and then responded, “We’ll have to go outside.”
Your face paled. Fear kept you from speaking correctly, and instead of the ‘out’ you intended, a single high-pitched squeak slipped past your lips. It jumpstarted your heart, and it lodged itself in your throat. It wasn’t long before you began to feel your head spin.
“I’ll go alone,” Chan rushed out, “You don’t have to come with me.”
“No, don’t!” Without thinking much about it, you threw yourself onto him, latching yourself onto him as if he would disappear if you didn’t hold on tight enough. “Please don’t go!” You cried, body shaking as sobs wracked through your body.
Chan embraced you, shushing you as he rubbed your back comfortingly, “It’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.”
Outside, low guttural groans approach his door, spurred forward from your sudden outburst.
Chan’s skin prickles at the sounds, hugging you tighter and whispering sweetly into your ear as he maneuvers the two of you to lie against the couch again. He knows he’s going to have to go outside again, alone, even though you’re with him now. He doesn’t bother trying to convince you.
His phone buzzes again, but he doesn’t bother picking it up. He doesn’t need the others reminding him that he needs food to survive. Now he’ll just have to wait until the crowd outside his door disperses again.
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summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe? oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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10 Days Since the End
Chan feeds you for three days before you wake in a crazed frenzy. You’re half-lucid those days, but it makes feeding you easier. Instant noodle broth as your sole source of nutrients doesn’t hold past the first day (counting after discovering you’re sick). On the second day, you begin to accept the noodles themselves, though Chan splits them until he deems them minuscule enough to feed them to you.
He counts it as a blessing, as he hadn’t dared give you medicine for your fever. He didn’t understand--didn’t want to think about it, really-- the repercussions that could manifest by leaving you to fight your fever on your own. But medicine on a stomach that’s been empty for days was much worse. That much he knew on his own.
He gives you the last of the syrup not long after you’ve finally eaten on the second day and practically sobs when he checks your temperature an hour later, and it’s gone down.
On the third day, Chan sits in front of the television, flipping through channels, looking for a single news channel or something to distract him, at the least. Some of them are stuck broadcasting color bars or station test cards, while others have disappeared. The screen completely blackens on those channels, while others turn into snow, static that he remembers from his childhood when television still used antennas. He flinches at the latter because of the sudden rise in volume and hastily mutes it.
He glances at the door, breath caught in his throat, waiting for impact. It doesn’t come, and he relaxes, sinking into the cushions behind him.
A minute later, while he’s slowly sinking into a troubled sleep, you wake, and though you don’t see him, the unfamiliar room, coupled with the sudden onslaught of memories of the undead and the blood-curdling screams of the living, is enough to make you let out one of your own.
It pierces the nearly absolute silence Chan had gotten accustomed to living in. He falls off the couch in the suddenness, and not a moment later, there’s a pounding at his door. The impact he’d been weary of only minutes ago.
He rushes to the dining set pushed against and blocking the door and entryway. He pushes against it, watching wide-eyed as the door shakes on its hinges. He dares not climb the table or move the chairs enough for him to look through the peephole, too afraid of what he’d find on the other side.
The door won’t stop shaking, and it suddenly dawns on him: the screaming is coming from his room. It’s coming from you.
He pushes off the table and rushes toward his room, grabbing the knifebrella he has propped against the wall next to his bedroom door on the way there.
You scream even louder when he rushes into the room.
“You need to calm down. Please calm down,” he urged you as gently as he could as he closed the door. “They’ll break down the door if they don’t forget we’re here.”
Screams turn into hiccuping and sobbing, eyesight blurring as tears stream down your face. Though little you could, you watched him grab a pile of t-shirts and sweaters from his closet and stuff and pile them under and around the door. Then you tensed and pushed yourself against his bedroom wall as he began to approach you.
“I’m Chan,” he said, stopping where he was, “I-I think you’re in my Art History class? 12B?”
You continued to stare at him while sobbing, incapable of forming words.
“You--I found you surrounded by zombies at the stadium. I was there on a food run. You weren’t bit if you’re wondering. I-I think you would have turned by now if you had.”
A shuddering sob wracked through you, and Chan flinched at the noise. A moment later, there was a louder pounding against the door.
“Look, I’m really sorry, but I really need you to be quiet. I don’t want to die yet.”
You bit your lips then, sobs continuing to slip past them though you were willing yourself to stop. You didn’t know this man. You couldn’t remember him. You could barely remember the class itself. But he was desperate. He had a fearful look in his eyes, and his hand was practically clenched around an umbrella with a knife duct taped to its handle.
“Maybe--” he gestured to you-- “Maybe you can use the pillows?”
You nodded and twisted around to sink into his bed, pulling the covers of his bed over your head and burying your face into his pillows, clutching them as hard as you could.
It’s hard for either of you to say when it was that Chan had moved to sit beside you, long before the undead had quieted or after. But he did, and though he hesitated for a while, his hand hovering over your back in uncertainty, he comforted you, rubbing circles into your back until you fell asleep.
chapter warnings: allusions to death, vomit, makeshift weapons (the knifebrella)
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe? oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
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{intro} + {3 days from the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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7 Days Since The End
It’s been months since Chan has been able to hear his friends' voices. The last time had been when they were all still at home, taking online courses from the city’s public library, having rented out different study rooms so they could stick together during the summer. Maybe it’s because they’re childhood friends, but he swears he can still hear their voices, their individual pitches and tones inside his head.
It’s been months.
But it’s been days since they, all twelve of them, chided him as best they could through text messages for bringing you into his home after saving you. He should have forgotten it by now. You’ve yet to wake up, and he doubts it takes as long to turn into a zombie considering how quickly things went to shit. But, every time his gaze even so much as passes near the door, he finds their voices competing to be the loudest.
Perhaps that’s why he sometimes finds the words popping up like text messages in front of the door as if he were living in some 90s cartoon.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan HOW CAN YOU BE SUCH AN IDIOT WHAT IF SHE WAS BITTEN [5:21pm]
Wonwoo You need to get her out of there as soon as you can, Chan. NOW. Before she turns. [5:23pm]
Vernon Dude, what did you do? [5:24pm]
Hoshi GET HER OUT OF THERE!!! BEFORE SHE TURNS!!! [5:26pm]
Woozi They have a point. Haven’t you ever seen the movies? [5:27pm]
Jeonghan How could you think this was a good idea?! [5:27pm]
Well, he couldn’t just leave you, could he?
They were texts, but he could still feel their anger coming out in waves through his phone even though they’d taken to ignoring his little problem. Every time any one of them checks in, he reminds himself that it's been days. Days, and you’ve yet to turn into a zombie.
Though, this doesn’t mean he didn’t have his fair share of scares the first couple of days.
On the first day, after messaging the others, he returned to his spot under the frame of his bedroom door. He watched you from a distance for hours, thinking but not really. It was innate, the need to know exactly when you changed, if you ever did. He waited for hours. Eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, on the twitch of your fingers, and on your facial spasms.
It would be a lie to say he hadn’t taken a step back when your eyes suddenly flew open. His hand had stalled behind the wall next to his bedroom door, grazing the fabric of his knifebrella. But then your eyes fluttered shut again, and he paused. When you made no movement to get up, he let out a sigh of relief he hadn’t even known he was holding and returned to where he had been standing.
He barely slept that night.
He’d spent nights on the couch before, falling asleep while he worked on papers and projects he hadn’t had time to finish. But even the couch felt foreign now, and every time he managed to fall asleep, every small scratch or groan that he could hear woke him right up. He’d sit up startled and, in an instant, gaze at his closed bedroom door.
In the following days, he avoided going into his room to check on you until he heard you groan. It sent a chill up his spine as it was the loudest noise he’d heard you make. In a flash, he’d stood up from his spot on the couch and picked up his knifebrella. Then, he made his way to his bedroom.
Chan doesn’t know how long he stood there, only that he refused to open the door until he was sure that he could hear no noise on the other side of the door. Then he opened it and nearly tripped over his own two feet.
You hadn’t moved from his bed, but your eyes were open. You breathed heavily, and sweat ran down your face.
“Hello? Are you okay?” He asked hesitantly. His voice broke as he did. It had been a long time since he last used it.
You merely stared at him, face void of any emotion.
“I’m Chan. You passed out at the stadium. There were a lot of zombies. I had to bring you here. My dorm, I mean.”
Silence, and instead of an answer, your eyes fluttered shut.
Chan swallowed as he took a step forward. You couldn’t be a zombie, could you? A zombie would have tried to devour him the moment he made any sort of noise. And your eyes, though cloudy, did sort of seem to meet his before closing again. Did zombies even breathe?
“Hey?” He tried again, stopping at the foot of his bed. “Are you awake?”
You made no notion that you heard him, but he noticed that your eyes were moving under your eyelids.
In a boost of sudden confidence, Chan moved to your side and, noting the sweat on your face again, placed the back of his hand on your forehead.
It burned.
You had a fever.
It was clear to Chan now, much more than it had been before, that you really weren’t a zombie. You were sick, and the days he spent avoiding you, waiting for you to reveal yourself as a zombie, had definitely made it worse. He was certain you were starving and possibly delirious (if your momentarily opened eyes were any indication).
Chan did the best he could that same day and in the ones that followed, trying to feed you and lower your temperature. He failed on his first attempt, spoon-feeding you broth from the noodle cup he’s made. It’s not healthy, in the least, but what else can he do? He’d brought the noodles with him though he doubted you’d become lucid enough to chew and swallow.
The broth goes down your throat easily, and it braves him enough to spoon quicker, waiting only a couple of seconds before bringing another spoonful to your lips, and it does not go well. It takes less than two minutes before you begin to cough, and he realizes what’s about to happen before it does. He’s seen it too many times from Mingyu back in high school when the latter had decided to become a partying senior and from the many educational videos on the dangers of drinking.
He manages to shove the plate of noodles onto the nightstand before you heave for the first time. Then he’s turning you on your side, hoping he can get to the trashcan in his bathroom before you hurl, then you do, and your vomit lands on the carpeted floor by your shoes.
He tries feeding you again after he’s cleaned the carpet (choosing to scrub it again after he’s fed you), this time going slower and giving you sips of water after every couple of spoonfuls of noodle broth.
It’s later that night, after he’s fed you and cleaned the carpet and the soles of your shoes, that he realizes how much luck the two of you have just used.
chapter warnings: lots of allusions to death and dying, makeshift weapons
summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.
a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe? oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy
↧↧c↧↧↧↧h↧↧↧↧a↧↧↧↧p↧↧↧↧t↧↧↧↧e↧↧↧↧r↧↧↧↧s↧↧
{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}
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3 Days Since the End
Chan doesn’t want to understand why leaving the safety of his dorm room is an option, to begin with. But then his stomach rumbles again, and he’s forced to eat the last granola bar he has (after days of saving it) as he tries not to hurl at the thought of what he has to do.
Minutes later, he’s taking a peek out of his window, moving the curtains only a fraction of an inch as if the zombies littering the fields outside were capable of looking up and noticing the living body studying them from the fifth floor, fearfully. Then he sees it, the football stadium a mile away, and he knows he has to go.
Without letting the curtain fall shut, he twists around to look at the jar of strawberry jam on the half-wall kitchen counter. Empty. Cleaned of even the jam that usually sticks to the sides of the jar.
He looks out the window again and studies the living dead he can see surrounding the building. He starts to count and then stops. There are too many, and the more he counts, the more he feels like the granola bar is about to make its way back out the way it went in.
It only takes Chan ten minutes to tape a knife to a long, black umbrella he owns (a knifebrella, he names it without noticing), grab the football helmet that wound up in his possession after a frat party he doesn’t remember much about, and empty the duffle bag he usually took to his dance lessons. It takes him another ten minutes to take down all the furniture he had stacked against the door for protection.
He thinks about the plan the entire time.
He’ll go down the emergency exit, prop the door open with a brick he knows other students had left there to sneak back inside after curfew and take the long way around to the football stadium. He’ll have to go towards campus first, away from the stadium, where there are probably more zombies--he forces himself to breathe at the thought-- but there'll be more places to hide than just running across the fields and parking lots he knows don’t have any places to properly hide.
Getting to the booster room would be easy. He nods to himself. That room was always open on account of the university’s teams always having the snack shop open for business--since the field is always open for students to work out there or the gym only a street away. Then he’d retrace his steps and go the long way back to his building. He’d know where to hide this time around.
It’s when his hand is finally on the doorknob that his thoughts force him to stop. Oh, why couldn’t he have gone grocery shopping on Sunday when he always does? It’s routine. ROUTINE. Maybe he can just scavenge the other dorms, start on this floor before making his way up and then down, or maybe start below first and make his way--
His phone buzzes in even staccatos in his pocket.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Jeonghan Check in when you get there [12:32pm]
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan Don’t die, loser [12:32pm]
He stares at the texts for a minute, then another one comes in.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Hoshi Stay safe, chan! [12:33pm]
Chan’s resolve is fixed, though he still believes he’s walking into death’s arms.
It takes him a few more seconds to open them, type out a response and send it. Then, his hand is on the doorknob again, and he’s slipping past the open door.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan Thanks. Will do. Leaving now. [12:34pm]
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
Sweat runs down Chan’s face as he opens one of the side doors belonging to the football stadium. It’s the only entrance he’s found that isn’t overrun by the living dead. He hopes as he pokes his head inside that the halls aren’t overrun like the other surrounding areas outside the stadium are.
He’s lucky. He doesn’t see a single one down the expanse of the hall, and he wastes no time to go inside, jamming a wad of paper into the latch port so it won’t click as he closes the door as gently as he can.
He’s only ever been to the stadium twice before, once for mandatory Freshmen orientation and another time for an extra credit assignment. Still, he manages to find the snack bar without any trouble, no wrong turns, and no living dead.
He’s surprised but doesn’t dwell on it, lest he overthink it and turn his luck sour.
There are some snacks, protein bars, and water bottles in the display case under the register and cold hotdogs in the rotisserie on another counter behind it. It takes him less than a second to decide to leave those behind and head for the booster’s storage room instead. It’s down the next hall, if he remembers correctly, and he does. He finds it unlocked and hurries to stuff as many bags of everything they have.
Nacho chips, protein bars, peanuts, hot dog packs, buns, noodle cups, and water bottles on top of water bottles. It doesn’t take long for Chan’s bag to fill.
Soon enough, he’s pushing the door open and scrambling to raise the knife end of his umbrella.
Two zombies, the skin of their faces starting to sag like those cartoon popsicles with deformed and melting faces, greet him with clicking moans. As one lurches forward, Chan drives his knife through its forehead, then uses the heel of his foot to push it off. The other one moves forward just as he does this. But Chan manages to dive past it and run down the hall he came from.
He’s getting ready to turn down the corner and run all the way to the exit he came from when he’s forced to a stop. He hears not one or two but a jumble of clicking moans. He turns the corner slowly, holding his knifebrella up like a sword, and holds back the urge to hurl.
Down the hallways he needs to go through, as far as he can see, the living dead have now invaded. Though, they don’t seem to be aware of his presence yet.
Nodding to himself, he gives himself a moment to breathe, then takes three steps forward and stops. He checks to make sure none of the zombies have noticed him, then takes another couple of steps forward and repeats the process again.
Chan doesn’t understand. He really doesn’t. But, no matter how hard he thinks about it, he can’t come up with an explanation. It’s not like zombies could just magically appear. He didn’t want to think about the specifics of a zombie, but still, they weren’t magic.
He’s halfway across the stadium, halfway to the door, when he freezes. It’s not the smartest move, he’ll beat himself up about it later, but he’s panicking. The sound of footsteps pounding against the stadium’s linoleum floor echoes loudly from his right, and he knows, though he doesn’t realize he’s even thinking about it, that those zombies, the ones roaming the hall behind him and those ahead of him, can hear it too.
Then, a terrified scream erupts from the same direction. Then a second one. Then a third, long and just as horrible, and he knows there’s no chance in hell these zombies are going to ignore them.
His head turns when a fourth scream turns into a fifth and becomes a constant symphony of panic. Down the hall, he can see it perfectly, a horde of zombies are cornering someone into a row of vending machines.
Chan’s breath catches in his throat. Behind him, the living dead are beginning to approach him. He can feel it. The hairs on his arms start to bristle, and he can feel the goosebumps littering them. He knows he has to go. His time is running out.
He’s already taken a step forward when his heart stops, and he realizes that he may just be the stupidest man alive. What with all the zombies around, it’s probably not much of a contest. But, still, if there was, he’d be a strong contender.
It’s fleeting, but Chan catches a quick glance of your face, and he knows he can’t leave you behind. You’re not friends. He’s never said a word to you before, nor you to him, but he’s seen you before. He knows he has. You’re in one of his courses, Art Forms in History 12B, if he remembers correctly. It’s impossible now. He’s moving before he even knows it. He can’t leave you behind. He’d never be able to forgive himself, and your face and your screams would join his cacophony of nightmares.
“Get up!” Chan screams as he runs toward you. “Get up! Run!” He wields his umbrella like a bat and swings it against the zombies nearest to him. It’s only when he’s closest to you, and the remaining horde of zombies are tightening around you, that he opens it like it’s begun to rain, finally using it as a makeshift shield to get closer to you and shove the zombies away.
He runs up to you, ready to pull you to your feet and run, when a flash of cold runs down his body. You’re slumped against the corner of the vending machine, passed out, and unresponsive. The blade of your hockey stick has broken off and lies at your feet.
When had you stopped screaming?
He thinks back as quickly as he can--he can hear the zombies behind him regaining their footing-- and there’s no time. Chan pushes his duffle bag behind his back and picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder. He looks at the hall from which he came. There’s no going back. There are too many zombies heading in his direction from there. He turns forward instead and, using his umbrella as a shield, runs as fast as he can. The entire time hoping he'll be able to find an exit that isn’t overrun by the living dead.
☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡
Chan stares at your sleeping--he hopes it’s sleeping-- figure under the covers of his bed from the door of his bedroom. It’s been an hour since you passed out against a corner of a row of vending machines, zombies moments away from welcoming you into their midsts, and ten since he managed to sneak his way back into his dorm room.
His heart pounds in his chest as he catches glimpses of his kitchen table pressed against the front door from the corner of his eyes. He tries to distract himself, thinking about the others. He really needs to thank Wonwoo later for getting him that long black umbrella as his going away present Freshmen year. It had seemed weird then, a large umbrella with reinforced ribs so it wouldn’t turn inside out when the wind was too strong, but it was certainly paying off now. Mingyu, too, he realizes, for the set of knives he’d gifted him in hopes that it would encourage him to learn to cook his food instead of surviving off of takeout.
It doesn’t work. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest as he begins to wonder how he can thank them.
His phone buzzes on the lowest of strengths, in his pocket for the nth time in the last hour. Still, it takes him another minute to take notice of the rhythmic buzzing against his thigh. Then, as if doused with a bucket of iced water, he’s forced back into reality.
There’s a soft click as he closes the door of his bedroom, then turns and goes to settle on the couch. He throws the rag he used to clean the blood off your face and arms into the kitchen sink and pulls out his phone after, on his way there.
There’s a single notification bubble on Chan’s home screen: You have 32 unread messages from 💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕. A second later, it changes to 33, and before he can slide his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone, it changes to 36.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan Chan. Seriously. Where the hell are you? [04:02pm]
Seungkwan You need to answer us now. [04:02pm]
Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]
Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]
Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]
Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]
Seungkwan Where the fuck is Chan? [04:02pm]
They come in quick succession, one after the other, giving him no time to scroll through the other messages. Ten more come in while he continues to stare at them blankly, unable to process what he’s looking at as they blur together (even when they stop for a second).
They go unnoticed until he remembers what he’d been doing and squeezes his eyes shut.
When he opens them again, the messages are still coming.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan Chan you little shit, answer us. [4:05pm]
Seungkwan We can see you’re online. [4:05pm]
Jeonghan Chan? [4:05pm]
Seungkwan All the messages say read by Chan [4:05pm]
Hoshi Chan, what’s going on? [4:05pm]
He grimaces and finally types out a quick answer.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan I’m here. Got a little busy. Got home uh twenty min ago [4:06pm]
Chan Forgot to check in [4:06pm]
The response was practically instantaneous.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan MOTHERFUCKER [4;06pm]
Seungkwan WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD [4;06pm]
Vernon Wait. Hold up. No *we* didn’t. [4:07pm]
Jeonghan That was all you, Seungkwan. I told you he was alive [4:07pm]
Seungkwan Only because YOU would have brought him back to life just to kill him again if he wasn’t [4:07pm]
Hoshi Chanie? What happened??? You said you’d check in when you were safe [4:08pm]
Chan chews on his lips absentmindedly, thumb twitching over the screen until he sighs.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan There was a little incident [4:09pm]
Jeonghan Incident? What do you mean incident? [4:09pm]
Seungkwan What did you do? [4:09pm]
Chan grimaces. He doesn’t want to tell them, but his actions are quickly catching up with him, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t tell someone.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan I saved this girl from my art history class from becoming dead food [4:11pm]
Seungkwan Oh my god [4:12pm]
Hoshi But you’re okay right? [4:12pm]
Chan Yeah yeah I’m good [4:12pm]
Seungkwan You actually did something good? I need proof. I don’t buy it. [4:13pm]
Jeonghan Well? What happened? [4:13pm]
Chan There were a shit ton of zombies when I came out of the booster room. I heard a scream from one of the hallways I was passing. Turned out to be this girl I have in class. I couldn’t just leave her guys. I could see her. I could see the zombies closing in on her I couldn’t [4:15pm]
Cheol It’s alright, Chan. Breathe. You’re ok. You did the right thing. [4:16pm]
Hoshi Chan the brave! Chan the hero! [4:16pm]
Vernon Soooo… [4:17pm]
Seungkwan So??? [4:17pm]
Vernon Well??? [4:17pm]
Seungkwan ???? [4:17pm]
Vernon What else? What’d you do? You don’t just save someone magically [4:18pm]
.
.
.
Hoshi Chan???????? [4:25pm]
Though his screen had blacked minutes ago, his gaze still rested on it. He could feel it, the rage that would be unleashed on him if he told them the truth of what he had done. The truth of it all was beginning to dawn on him. It hadn’t before, if only because that hadn’t been a priority, though it should have been.
He cast a look behind him at his bedroom door and wondered if he’d overlooked any sounds while he’d been speaking to the others. But when silence was the only thing that greeted him, he looked down at his phone again and thought of what he’d say.
And how he’d say it.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Chan I used the knifebrella to get rid of the zombies closest to her. By the time I got to her, she had passed out at the corner by the vending machines. I think she’d panicked so much she passed out. It’s like her body gave up. She even had this broken hockey stick with her. I don’t know. [4:31pm]
Unlike before, minutes passed by before he got a response.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan Hold on. Did you just say she passed out???? [4:34pm]
Jeonghan She passed out?? [4:35pm]
Vernon What the fuck [4:35pm]
Cheol Did you fight the entire hoard yourself?! How did you save her if she was passed out?? She couldn’t have helped [4:35pm]
Seungkwan Don’t tell me you ditched the food, you freaking dumbass [4:36pm]
Chan I didn’t [4:37pm]
Seungkwan Then what the hell did you do??? [4:37pm]
Chan I slug her over my shoulder and ran [4:38pm]
An influx of messages came then, draining him of whatever battery he had been recharging internally.
💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕
Seungkwan SLUGGED HER OVER YOUR SHOULDER?!?! [4:38pm]
Hoshi You did eaht [4:38pm]
Jeonghan YOU CARRIED HER?! [4:38pm]
Cheol TELL ME YOU DIDN’T [4:38pm]
Seungkwan TELL YOU HE DIDNT WHAT?!?! [4:38pm]
Cheol TELL ME YOU DIDNT DO IT CHAN [4:39pm]
Seungkwan WHAT DID HE DO?! [4:39pm]
Chan I don’t know what you’re talking about [4:40pm]
Cheol WHERE IS SHE NOW [4:40pm]
Chan Still passed out on my bed [4:42pm]
There was an influx of messages again, and Chan felt like he already knew what they were saying. So, he locked his phone and placed it on the coffee table away from him.
He could still see the messages as they came in, though he didn’t really register them, glossing over them as language lost meaning.
Then, just as his phone grouped them all together into a single notification bubble of unopened messages, a single text seared into his brain.
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