#OH THE LAST TWO. YEAH COOL. COOL COOL COOL.

[jjkbambi]

frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—”

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

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[troyo-boyo]

Grounded in Chaos (Paige Bueckers x Reader)

Summary:When Paige and her friend KK turn a quiet evening into chaos, you end up grounding Paige to get some peace for studying. But Paige's playful attempts at "responsibility" and her quirky distractions make for a funny and frustrating night, reminding you that even a grounding can't tame her energy.

Wordcount:2.9k

The sun had barely begun to set, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the sky, but inside your shared apartment, chaos reigned supreme. It was supposed to be a quiet evening, a time for you to focus on studying for your upcoming finals. Books, highlighters, and scattered notes covered every inch of the dining table, a testament to the academic war you were waging.

But peace and focus? Those had left the building the moment Paige Bueckers, your girlfriend, and KK Arnold, her partner in crime, decided to turn the living room into their personal playground. The sound of laughter, basketballs bouncing, and sneakers squeaking on hardwood echoed through the apartment, threatening to shred your last nerve.

You had tried to get used to this, tried to embrace it, even. Paige and KK had a dynamic that was infectious, their energy contagious in the worst and best ways. They'd been best friends for years, so their connection was like a magnetic force that never seemed to let up. Paige, with her easy confidence and her larger-than-life persona, was a force of nature in herself. KK, on the other hand, with her quick wit and an attitude that could melt anyone, made it impossible not to get swept up in whatever wild thing she decided to do next. It wasn't always easy to keep up with them, but you loved them—crazy as they were.

Still, tonight, you needed peace. You had an exam the next day and couldn't afford another round of procrastination. The hours you'd already put in should have been enough to make you feel confident, but the pressure to excel in every aspect of your life weighed heavily. That pressure was only made worse by the constant interruptions from the duo in the next room.

"Okay, okay, watch this," KK's voice rang out, filled with excitement.

You glanced up from your notes just in time to see KK toss a basketball in Paige's direction. Paige caught it effortlessly, grinning like the confident star she was, and immediately attempted a trick shot aimed at the laundry basket across the room.

The ball ricocheted off the rim of the basket, bounced off the wall, and narrowly missed your stack of notes. You froze, your pen hovering mid-air, as the ball rolled under the table.

"Oops," Paige said, biting her lip to stifle a laugh.

"Oops?" you repeated, your voice dripping with disbelief. "Paige, KK, I'm trying to study here!"

"Babe, you've been at it all day," Paige said, grabbing the ball and tossing it back to KK. "You need a break."

"Yeah," KK chimed in, dribbling the ball. "Come on, live a little! Finals will still be there tomorrow."

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your cool. "If I fail because I didn't study, finals won't be the only thing I'm dealing with tomorrow. So please, can you two just... not?"

For a moment, they seemed to take your words seriously. Paige nodded solemnly, and KK mimicked the gesture, both of them wearing exaggerated expressions of mock remorse. You sighed, relieved that they were finally going to leave you in peace.

But, of course, it didn't last.

"Bet you can't bank it off the fridge," KK challenged Paige, holding up the basketball like a trophy.

"Oh, you're on," Paige shot back, her competitive spirit ignited.

"You have got to be kidding me," you muttered, dropping your pen and burying your face in your hands. The sound of the ball bouncing against the fridge and then the floor was the final straw.

"That's it!" you exclaimed, pushing back your chair and standing up. Both Paige and KK froze mid-laugh, the basketball caught awkwardly between them. You rarely got angry, but when you did, the temperature in the room seemed to drop, and both of them instinctively knew they had crossed the line.

"Uh-oh," KK whispered dramatically, her usual bravado noticeably shaken.

"Paige Madison Bueckers," you began, your tone firm and low, a sure sign you meant business. KK and Paige exchanged wide-eyed glances, their expressions a mix of fear and regret.

"I'm grounding you. You're grounded."

Paige blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What?"

"You heard me. You're grounded," you repeated, crossing your arms.

"Wait, can you even ground me?" Paige asked, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a grin.

"I can, and I just did," you shot back. Your tone left no room for argument, and Paige's grin faltered slightly as she realized you were not messing around.

"What about basketball?" Paige asked, her tone suddenly serious.

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Other than basketball, you're grounded."

Paige exchanged a glance with KK, who looked like she was enjoying every second of this despite the palpable tension.

"Okay, so no TV," you continued.

Paige raised an eyebrow. "The TV's already broken."

You frowned. "Then no computer."

"I need the computer for school," Paige pointed out, her tone oh-so-reasonable.

You glared at her, searching for something—anything—to ban. "Then no, uh... no KK."

KK's eyes widened in mock horror. "What? No KK?"

"NO KK!" you repeated, pointing a finger at her for emphasis.

The room fell silent for a beat before Paige burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching her sides. KK looked between the two of you, her expression a mix of indignation and amusement, but she clearly understood you weren't in the mood for further antics.

"You can't just ban me," KK protested, albeit more cautiously than usual.

"I just did," you replied, your voice steady despite the ridiculousness of the situation. "No KK until I've finished studying."

Paige wiped a tear from her eye, still laughing, but her laughter was tinged with a nervous edge. "Oh my god, babe, you're the best."

"I'm serious," you said, glaring at both of them.

"Alright, alright," Paige said, holding up her hands in surrender. "We'll leave you alone. No more basketball, no more chaos. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," you muttered, sitting back down and picking up your pen.

For the next few minutes, the apartment was blessedly quiet. You managed to get through an entire page of notes without interruption, a feat that felt like a minor miracle. But just as you started to feel hopeful, you heard a faint whisper.

"Psst, KK," Paige whispered loudly.

"What?" KK whispered back, equally loud.

You looked up, narrowing your eyes. "What are you two doing?"

"Nothing!" they chorused, their faces the picture of innocence.

Moments later, a small paper airplane landed on your notes. You unfolded it to find a crude drawing of yourself, complete with steam coming out of your ears. Beneath it, Paige had written, We're sorry... kind of.

You couldn't help it—you laughed. "You two are impossible," you said, shaking your head.

"But you love us," Paige said, her grin wide and unrepentant.

"Unfortunately," you teased, rolling your eyes.

Despite the chaos, you couldn't deny that life with Paige and KK was never boring. Frustrating? Sure. Exhausting? Absolutely. But in the end, their laughter and love made every moment worthwhile even if it meant grounding your girlfriend and her partner in crime from time to time.

Just as you settled back into your study groove, the sound of KK whispering something mischievous to Paige snapped your concentration yet again. You slammed your notebook shut and stood up, your patience officially at zero.

"That's it. KK, out. Now," you declared, pointing toward the door.

"What? Me?" KK said, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. But there was a hint of hesitation, a flicker of genuine concern that showed she wasn't keen on pushing you any further.

"Yes, you," you said firmly. "You're officially evicted for the night. Go home. Do whatever you do when you're not here. Just let me study in peace!"

Paige burst out laughing again, but KK put on her best pout. "This is unfair. I thought we were friends."

"We are. And as your friend, I need you to leave before I lose my mind," you said, walking over to grab her jacket from the hook by the door.

KK reluctantly stood, taking her jacket with exaggerated slowness. "Fine, but just so you know, this is a betrayal I'll never forget."

"Oh, I'll sleep just fine," you said dryly, opening the door.

KK walked out, but not before turning back dramatically. "Paige, remember me. Tell my story."

"Get out!" you said, laughing despite yourself as you shut the door behind her.

The apartment fell into blissful silence. Paige leaned against the couch, still chuckling. "You're kind of scary when you're mad, you know that?"

"You should keep that in mind the next time you decide to turn the apartment into a gym," you replied, sitting back down. "Now, are you going to behave, or should I ground you again?"

Paige held up her hands. "I swear, I'll be good."

"Good," you said, picking up your pen again. "Because if I have to get up one more time, I'm grounding everyone in this building."

Paige laughed, but this time, she kept her promise, letting you study in peace at last.

Minutes later, the sound of soft footsteps caught your attention. You glanced up to see Paige slipping toward the door, clearly attempting to follow after KK.

"Don't even think about it," you warned.

Paige froze, her hand inches from the doorknob. "What? I was just—"

"If you leave out that door," you said, your voice dropping to an ominous calm, "I'll be talking to Coach about giving you extra suicides."

Paige's eyes widened, and she stepped back from the door immediately. "Okay, okay. Point taken. I'm staying."

"Good choice," you replied, turning back to your notes.

Paige flopped onto the couch, letting out a dramatic sigh. "You're terrifying sometimes, you know that?"

"And you're exhausting," you retorted, smirking. "Now sit down, be quiet, and let me study."

"Yes, ma'am," Paige muttered, grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it to her chest. For the first time all evening, silence finally reigned in the apartment.

A few moments passed before Paige broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with mischief. "Hey, babe..."

"Don't," you warned, but your smile betrayed your attempt at sternness. "Don't even think about it."

Paige laughed quietly, but complied, sinking deeper into the couch as she finally let you study in peace.

As you bent over your notes, the silence in the apartment stretched out longer than it ever had before. For a few minutes, you were able to concentrate, the weight of your looming finals feeling just a bit lighter. But then you felt it—the weight of Paige's gaze, pressing on you from across the room.

You glanced up from your textbook and found Paige sitting on the couch, her chin resting on her hand. Her eyes were wide and focused on you, but there was a distinct lack of interest. She was watching you study, not in an admiring way, but more in the way someone might stare at a TV show they don't really like but can't look away from.

"Are you... seriously just watching me study?" you asked, your voice laced with amusement.

Paige didn't respond immediately. Instead, she let out an exaggerated sigh, dramatically falling back onto the couch with her arms spread wide. "I don't know how you do it, babe. How can you just sit there for hours reading and writing and... whatever it is you do? It's like torture."

You couldn't help but laugh at her exaggeration. "I don't have a choice. Finals wait for no one."

"Yeah, I get that," Paige said with a half-hearted wave, "but this is boring. It's just... you're just sitting there, doing the same thing over and over. And I can't even bother you! You said I was grounded!"

You turned your attention back to your notes, fighting the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Exactly. You're grounded. You need to learn some discipline."

Paige groaned dramatically and rolled onto her side, her face buried in the couch cushion. "Ugh, this is like prison." She peeked up at you, her eyes twinkling. "Well, if I can't distract you, maybe I can just entertain myself in other ways."

You shot her a sideways glance. "What are you thinking?"

A mischievous grin spread across her face as she sat up. "Well, since I'm grounded, I guess I'll be productive too." She stood up, stretching dramatically. "I'll organize my life!"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going. "Organize your life?"

Paige nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! Grounded or not, I've got to get things done." She grabbed a few items off the coffee table—a random assortment of books, clothes, and a couple of things you hadn't even noticed and started stacking them in strange, random piles around the apartment.

"Isn't that your pile of clothes that need to be folded?" you asked, squinting in confusion as she carefully placed it on the couch with a very serious look on her face.

"Exactly! I'm organizing," Paige declared. "And look, this pile of notebooks? This can be a bookshelf now." She stacked your textbooks one on top of the other, like a wobbly tower.

You could feel the corners of your mouth twitching as you watched her carefully make piles of the mess she had just created. It was almost like a game to her, one where she took the grounding seriously, but in a very "Paige" way.

"Well, I can't argue with your dedication," you said dryly, shaking your head.

Paige gave a mock salute. "Thank you, thank you. I do my best." Then she went over to the window, pulling the curtains closed before turning back with a puzzled expression. "Why is it that when you want to study, the world decides to have fun without you? Like, this should be a communal thing! We should all be focused and studying together, but no—here I am, stuck organizing random piles of stuff."

You stifled a laugh. "It's called 'discipline,' babe. Something you could learn a little more about."

"Ugh, I have plenty of discipline!" she replied, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "I'm grounded. I'm not complaining. You're the one who grounded me! I'm just making the best of a bad situation."

You shook your head, finally giving in to the amusement bubbling inside. "I never thought you'd take grounding so seriously."

"I'm a responsible adult," Paige declared with exaggerated seriousness, though her eyes were full of mischief. "I take my responsibilities seriously."

You chuckled, feeling the tension of your studies easing just a little. As ridiculous as it was, Paige's attempt at being responsible and her newfound "organization skills" was distracting enough to break the monotony. It wasn't quite what you had imagined your study session would look like, but the amusement she brought was a welcome interruption.

Paige, growing bored of her self-imposed "organization," flopped back onto the couch again, but this time she kept a respectful distance. "Okay, okay. I can't do this anymore. Watching you study is like watching paint dry. I don't care how much of a genius you are, this is painful."

"Well, you're the one who's grounded. I'm studying. It's what responsible people do," you teased.

Paige poked her tongue out at you before snatching a cushion and tossing it at your head. "I know, I know. But you're so serious about it! This is your life now? Books, notes, and highlighters?"

"Unfortunately, yeah," you said, only half-kidding. "But once I finish studying, maybe we can actually do something fun."

Paige looked at you thoughtfully. "Yeah, yeah. I guess I can survive a few more hours of silence. As long as we get to go out and do something fun afterward, I'll suffer through this."

You gave her a pointed look. "No more distractions?"

She held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, fine! I'll behave. But only because I love you."

"And because you're grounded," you added with a smile, sitting back down and picking up your pen again.

Paige laughed softly, curling into the couch, still playing the part of the obedient, grounded girlfriend—at least for now. "Yeah, yeah, grounded. I'll be good."

For the next little while, the silence wasn't quite as peaceful as you'd imagined. It was a strange mixture of quiet focus and Paige's playful energy, still radiating in the background. But it worked. You managed to finish a few more pages of notes, and Paige seemed to settle into her self-imposed confinement, her boredom shifting from dramatic antics to occasional mutterings as she tried to occupy herself with her own brand of "responsibility."

As you closed your notebook, finished with your study session, you looked over at her. Paige had somehow turned the "grounding" into her own personal challenge and in a way, she had kept her word. Even if she hadn't exactly been a model citizen in the conventional sense, you couldn't deny that her presence, however unconventional, made the long study session feel a lot less grueling.

"All right, I'm done," you said, stretching. "We can finally take a break."

Paige jumped up from the couch, a wide grin on her face. "Yes! I've earned my freedom!"

"Just remember," you said with a smirk, "If I have to study again tonight, you're back to being grounded."

Paige held her hands up in mock surrender. "I've learned my lesson. I'll behave... mostly."

As you two left the apartment to enjoy the evening, you couldn't help but think that, as exhausting as it was, life with Paige and her colorful brand of "responsibility" was never boring.

[jakeswifeyyy]

sunghoon fucking you after going to the gym

Warnings:Unprotected sex,degrading,tit slapping,nipple play,use of pet names(baby,doll,darling) ,inplied big dick sunghoon,daddy kink andd I think that's all :)

MDNI!

Okay hear me out anon.

Like roommates with benefits sunghoon whom comes from the gym after a heavy workout for 3 hours straight ,clad in an oversized sleevless black shirt showing his big ass muscles(lowkey drooling at the image 🤤).

The whole roommates with benefits agenda started because of the oh so obvious built up sexual tension between you two,lingering touches,undressing each other with your eyes but that was a story for another day as he walked in from the gym,headphones on,gym bag on his shoulder with his joggers which were more of an excuse which blessed your eyes,him,the Greek God himself, sweating trickling down his face,smirked seeing you eyeing him so shamelessly.

"You're not so subtle y/n."

Hearing him speak before shutting the door behind him taking off his shoes before dropping his bag near the kitchen before walking towards you who was peering at him over your shoulder,before leaning down so close to you while staring straight ahead before snatching your cup of water from you gulping it down.

"Who said I was trying to be subtle Park."

You taunted him before scoffing turning back to face the long forgotten show playing on the TV.

"You just have a hot body I sometimes forget my manners."

He raised his eyebrow cocking his head to the side before smirking while eyeing your side profile as you watched the TV or more appropriately tried to watch the TV.You were getting more bold with your words and he wasn't complaining ,he liked having competition either way.

"If you find it so hot why don't you do something about it." You nearly jumped hearing him suddenly speak right next to your ear,breath tickling your earlobe before he slightly nibbled on it.

"Ew go take a shower atleast." He chuckled at your words before pulling you up to seat you on the armrest of the couch before trapping you in his arms which were on your sides on the couch.

"Why should I when you like seeing me like this hm?Tell me doll,tell me you don't like the image of me on top of you pounding into this pretty cunt darling."

He moved his face closer as you moved yours backwards,yeah you were normally dominant with all guys you slept with but something about sunghoon ever since you moved in,his aura was just different ,very different for the usual submissive virgin boys you went for,he wasn't your type at all but even so the tension kept growing between you two day by day,you always teased him when he wanted to have his way with you,even though he eventually did but teasing him was fun while it lasted.

He smirked when you moved away,"Why so quiet now doll."

You chuckled wrapping your arms around his neck,pulling him closer as he slightly stumbled causing you to fall back wards onto the couch as he fell on top of you holding himself up with one arm,he tsked poking his inner cheek with his tongue before scoffing.

"Thought I already taught you a lesson on who's incharge here guess you still don't wanna learn huh."

He didn't give you a chance to respond before crashing his lips on yours as you puked him closer with your arms around his neck,equally roughly kissing him back as your teeth clashed ,biting on his lower lip as he let out a groan before shoving his tongue into your mouth as he licked into your warn cavern ,obscenely moaning into his kiss,he was rough ,again contrasting your expectations, you were usually the one initiating the roughness,but is seems you meeting him wasn't part of the expectations either,everything about him was just...different.

After a couple minutes making out he pulled away,"Since you wanna be in control so much,ride me slut." You wouldn't deny that something about him degrading you had you on chokehold as you nodded before he pulled back completely and sat up,his sweaty self cooled off due to the high blast of the AC in the living room.

Quickly climbing onto his lap as his arms stretched on the couch behind you,you took of your cropped shirt which you hadn't worn anything under and he smirked biting his lower lip before grabbing one tit,squeezing it as your nipples hardened more due to the cold air in the room before you whimpered as he slapped your sensitive nipple.

"That's my good girl,always knowing what daddy wants isn't it?"

Letting out a choked moan you reply with a yes as you tugged on his shirt telling him to take it off ,as he did you run your hands down his abs down to his exposed valine before tracing them back up ,brushing over his nipples as his breath hitched before he held you by your wrist.

"Cut to the chase baby no foreplay for you today I'm too impatient."

Nodding you stand on your knees taking your booty shorts off leaving you bare as you lowered his joggers together with his boxers to his knees before wrapping your arm around his cock which stood between the both of ,angry fat red tip leaking with precum,as you pu.ped him a few times before lining it up with your entrance,slowly sliding down as you moaned vocally,his palm cupping your ass cheeks spreading them apart as he squeezed at the flesh,after completely taking him in you shuddered ,stabilising yourself on his shoulders,adjusting to his size which was always big to you.

"What're you waiting for slut,ride it or I'll punish you." Nodding quirky knowing he wouldn't let you come if you didn't before you started bouncing up and down on his length murmuring fucks as he pulled you closer,hand going to your tits pushing then together as he licked at your now held together nipples as you moaned rocking yourself faster in between bouncing ,alternating as he liked it that way,his hand snaking down to rub your clit in fast circles as he held your tits with one hand,licking all over messily ,drool pouring everywhere,the slurping sounds enough to make you feel your climax approaching.

"Hoon p-please ...w-wanna cum ngh."

He kissed your neck all over essentially sucking on some spots to hear your beautiful noises,"Cum for me baby,coat my cock baby." He soothed into your hear as your moans increasingly got louder before feeling your high crash down on you,thighs on fire from all the bouncing,as he lifted you off of him your cunt clenching around his length along the way was enough to make him cum right there,throwing his head back as he pumped his fist around his cock slowly riding out his high before he smirked at you,laughing at your fucked out state before picking you up bridal style heading to the bathroom.

"Guess we both need a shower now baby,"

You scoffed at him,"I know you want round2,"

He laughed again,"I'll do all the work this time, promise baby"

"Park Sunghoom I will kill you,"

A/n:Tysm for 86 followers guys in less than a month ly all ❤️,and also sorry to the anon for delaying this a bit I have a lot of projects this time 😓

[hoshifighting]

ok but how about we imagine the reader just lounging on the bed or sumn on their tummy and not wearing underwear inside their shorts because they're just home and its just you and jihoon and its comfy like that, maybe scrolling thru phone or smthg and jihoon comes and see you like that and without warning pulls down their shorts like hmm gonna eat them out from the back

woozi eating you from the back when he sees you chilling without panties

WARNINGS: smut, pussy eating, fingering, reader tries to not look affected by woozi eating her out—it doesn't last tho

it’s not like you planned this. you were just comfy, sprawled out on your tummy, scrolling through your phone. no underwear, just one of those oversized shirts jihoon always leaves behind. you weren’t expecting him home this early—it was supposed to be just you and the quiet hum of your timeline.

but then, you hear the door click open. you lift your head slightly, listening as his familiar footsteps echo down the hall. whatever. it’s jihoon. you don’t move. no need to—he’s seen you like this a thousand times before.

except… maybe not exactly like this.

“...seriously?”

you turn your head lazily to glance at him, your cheek pressing into the pillow. “what?”

his mouth is open. like full-on, jaw-dropped, wide-eyed suffering. you’d laugh if it wasn’t so funny. his gaze is locked on the way your shirt has ridden up over your hips, just barely covering the curve of your ass but definitely not hiding the glimpse of your cunt between your thighs.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses, his voice strained.

“literally no?” you shrug, playing it cool. “it’s comfy. every woman does this.” you turn your attention back to your phone like his whole world isn’t crumbling around him.

without another word, he’s crawling onto the bed, settling himself between your thighs. the weight of him presses against the backs of your legs.

“hoon, what are you doing?” you ask casually, even as he pushes your thighs apart and drags his thumbs along your folds.

he doesn’t answer. instead, his breath fans over you, and then his tongue—wet and warm—licks a slow stripe from your clit to your entrance.

you don’t react. not immediately, anyway.

“hmm,” you hum, scrolling aimlessly. “that’s nice.”

you can feel him pause.

“‘nice?’” he repeats, his voice muffled against you. there’s a challenge in his tone, and you know you’ve poked the bear.

jihoon doubles down. his tongue delves deeper, penetrating you, licking and flicking in ways that make your toes curl even though you swear you’re not going to let him win. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently, and the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth working you over fill the room.

you’re trying to hold strong.

“yeah, like… whatever,” you manage, biting down on your lip to keep the gasp trapped in your throat, as you smirk nasty.

“oh, we’ll see about that,” jihoon mutters, his voice dripping with determination.

he doesn’t hold back now, his tongue fucking into you has your thighs trembling. he pulls back to spit, letting his saliva mix with your slick before diving back in, his nose pressing against you with every hungry lap.

you squirm. just a little.

but jihoon knows you. he knows exactly how to make you melt.

when he slides two fingers into you, curling them in that devastating way only he can, it’s game over. you gasp, your phone slipping from your hand as your hips start to roll against his face.

“oh? what happened to ‘nice?’” he taunts, his voice smug and soaked as he pulls back just enough to breathe.

“shut up,” you manage, but your voice cracks, and you know he hears it.

he hums, the vibrations making you shiver, and you can’t help yourself anymore. your hips grind against his face, chasing the pressure of his tongue and the stretch of his fingers.

“fuck,” you whisper, your hand reaching back to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.

jihoon groans against you desperately, the wetness between your legs is obscene, dripping onto his chin, smearing across his lips, but he doesn’t care. it only makes him harder inside his pants, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to make you moan louder, to make you wetter.

your forehead presses into the pillow, muffling the broken sound that slips past your lips as jihoon’s mouth latches onto your clit. his tongue flicks against the sensitive bud before his lips close around it completely, sucking it inside your mouth until your start to drip on his upper lip.

“fuck, babe—” you choke out, your voice muffled by the fabric. instead of giving you a break, he doubles down. the bastard knows what he’s doing. he knows how sensitive you are, and he’s still going for it, his tongue swirling and his lips pulling at your clit like it’s his fucking life mission.

you’re unraveling, your resolve crumbling like a cheap tower of jenga blocks.

your ass lifts off the mattress on instinct, hips wiggling as if you’re trying to escape him. but that’s a joke—you don’t want to escape. not really.

jihoon hums against you, the vibrations making you choke strangled as you push yourneck further on the pillow “oh, now you’re running?” it’s clear he’s not about to let you go anywhere. his hands grab onto your thighs, holding you still with a grip that’s firm but reverent.

“not running,” you whine, though your body says otherwise. you’re grinding back against him now, your hips bucking on his tongue involuntarily as his tongue works you over.

“yeah?” he says, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. “then why are you wiggling, huh?”

you’re not about to let him win this round. no fucking way. “you’re barely doing anything,” you bite out, though your voice cracks halfway through.

jihoon lets out a dark little laugh, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, the meat scaping inside the fingers as he presses his face back between your legs. “oh, i’m barely doing anything?” he says, and you can feel the smirk on his lips.

then he sucks.

your head snaps back, and a choked cry escapes you as his lips wrap around your swollen clit and entrance, pulling at it like he’s determined to break you.

“hoon! what the fuck—ngh!”

“what was that?” he murmurs his tongue flicking in quick, torturous motions.

your response is unintelligible, a series of breathless gasps and broken moans as he sucks harder, his mouth relentless. your ass is in the air now, raised high as you grind back against his face, the wet sounds of his tongue and your slick filling the room.

you feel his grip tighten on your thighs, his thumbs brushing against your skin as if to steady you. “don’t play with me, baby, you’re not going anywhere.”

your fingers claw at the pillow beneath you, your body shaking as the pleasure builds, overwhelming and insistent. your legs tremble, and you let out a high, desperate whimper, wiggling your hips again as if it’ll somehow lessen the intensity.

but jihoon doesn’t let up, he doubles down, his tongue flicking against your clit in rapid, precise motions before sucking again, his lips pulling at you, making your roll your eyes to the back of your school.

“you’re taking it so well, baby.”

and just like that, the floodgates open. your body arches, your face burying deeper into the pillow as the orgasm slams into you, hard and unforgiving.

jihoon groans against you as you grind into his face, riding out the your orgasm as your legs quake and your moans dissolve into sobs. but he doesn’t stop—not yet. his tongue slows, but it’s still there, gentle and coaxing, milking every last drop from your trembling body.

when you finally collapse, boneless and spent, jihoon presses a soft, almost teasing kiss to your ass. “still think i’m barely doing anything?” he asks, his voice smug but laced with affection.

you don’t have the energy to answer—not with words, anyway. instead, you reach back weakly, your hand finding his hair and giving it a lazy tug.

jihoon just laughs satisfied, before leaning forward to press a kiss to the small of your back. “that’s what i thought.” he murmurs.

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

Marma1ade:

Submitted for: Server not specified

Headcanons: Transfem, she/her

Propaganda: “Transfem Marma1ade is my special headcanon [the submitter] think[s] [they’ve] shared with. Two people?? But she is very beloved to [them].”

“[The submitter] think[s] if asked about her gender, she'd just be like "yeah I’m trans" but everyone including her has got WAY more important things to worry about than gender so only like 3 people know.”

[avatarmerida]

So I know it’s been awhile since I’ve updated anything or shared any news fics but life is doing life things and my hyper-fixation has been coming and going but I’ve had this in my drafts for awhile so I thought I’d share what I have ready! When it’s all done it’ll be called 365 days in my Wintery Junk collection on AO3, for context in this they’re like juniors in college 20/21ish and Hunter is leaving for a year to work on planting more palistrom trees across the Isles. So this fic was gonna be about them like video chatting and keeping in touch and figuring stuff out long distance and updating each other. So here’s the last post of the year I guess! It felt thematic to share today lemme know if it’s worth finishing!

—-

“Hey there, Mr. Man-of-the-hour,” Willow greeted in a low, teasing voice as she shut the door behind her. It was a lovely night, and she knew Hunter couldn’t resist looking at the stars, even at his own party. But she acted surprised anyway. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Oh, just catching my breath,” he chuckled, the cold air capturing it as he exhaled. The muffled sounds of music and laughter broke the silence for a moment as she joined his island of silence on the porch. Her emerald green dress somehow just as vivid and captivating in the dim lighting the low hanging string of lights provided. “I haven’t danced like that in awhile.”

“Yeah, not since Grom I bet,” she said walking over to stand beside him.

“Oh my Titan, don’t remind me,” he groaned endearingly.

“What? You looked so cute!” She insisted. “And you were a really good dance partner.”

“I think I stepped on your toes like 6 times,” he said between clenched teeth, remembering he was wearing the same shoes now.

“Well seven but hey it’s a lucky number!” She said and they both laughed. He had bought a wallet purely for the purpose of keeping their Photo Booth pictures in jt. After the group had gotten their classic shot, she insisted they get as many of just the two of them as possible. They did all the classic poses, it was bright and loud and the best kind of chaos and for the final photo she had pulled him down to kiss his cheek. It was quick and she didn’t make a big deal about it so he didn’t make a big deal about it, at least not outwardly. That was the photo he had gotten laminated.

“Yeah well, alots changed since then,” he sighed.

Not really, Willow thought as she took in his relaxed profile. He was still sweet and dorky but now he was more rested. Her feelings for him certainly hadn’t changed, if anything they’d gotten worse. Well, worse wouldn’t be the best way to describe it, it was an overwhelmingly positive feeling but it just never found the right time to be fully expressed.

When she had kissed his cheek that night, she had intended for it to signify that she didn’t want their first date to be their only date. But Hunter had endearingly mistaken it as a ritual of the event and so she took it as a sign. She couldn’t deny there had been a shift between them after that night, that he felt more comfortable initiating contact and lingering when they found themselves sitting closer during game nights and the way he looked at her… well that might not have changed but he didn’t shy away right away anymore when she caught him. It was like she knew she had him but saying it aloud might undo it somehow.

“Did you ever think when you started helping Dell that you’d be traveling the Isles as this big shot hero?” She asked with a sigh as she took in the cool night air.

“‘Hero?’ Pshh, hardly,” he scoffed. “I’m just doing my part to help fix something I didn’t realize I was a part of hurting.”

“Hey, no one knew,” she said as she put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not gonna let you blame yourself or deny that what you’re doing is pretty cool.”

He sighed, the fire in her eyes melting any guilt he tried to harbor. “Okay yeah it is pretty cool,” he admitted.

“There ya go,” she smiled, moving her hand up to brush his hair from his face, as though she just wanted an excuse to touch him. “I’m really proud of you Hunter.”

“Proud of me? You wanna talk about cool go look in the mirror Miss Pro Flyer Derby,” he countered, crossing his arms and shaking his face at hers in a cocky way he could only adopt when he was talking about her.

“Okay…” she said with a sigh of fake annoyance that he knew meant to kept going.

“Youngest ever recruit before she even graduated and is already on track to be captain? All while creating her own major in advanced plants studies? Now that’s cool.”

“Well you deserve a little credit,” she said. “How many times did you stay late to help me work on my drills?”

“Well how many times did you stay late helping me find the right PH level for the soil for the trees?” He countered.

“Oof, no wonder we’re so tired,” she joked and they laughed again. Oh, he was going to miss that laugh. He wondered if it would be weird to ask to record it. He knew they promised to talk as much as possible to keep in touch but there was nothing comparable to being beside Willow when she laughed.

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it to your first match,” said Hunter sadly, leaning on the railing again.

“Hey you can stream it,” she said, bumping his shoulder with hers. “I’ll give you a shout out.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling a tug in his chest as he felt like it was some kind of sin not to be there in person to support her. Had he been smarter, he would’ve cherished their last one on one practice session more. Who knows the next time they’d be able to play and have it just be the two of them. “But ya know, it’s only a few weeks away I could probably push my trip back so I could-.”

“Hunter,” she cut him off. “As sweet as that is and as much as I want you to come I can’t let you do that for me. They need you over there and the sooner you go the sooner you can start changing the world.”

And the sooner you can come back, she thought.

“Besides, rookie games aren’t usually that exciting,” Willow somewhat lied. “I might not even play.”

“Well then that’s their loss,” said Hunter, knowing she was right. As excited as he was to go and as much as he cared about the work he was entrusted to do, well he just couldn’t help but care about her maybe a tiny bit more. In a perfect world, he could stop time and help the palistrom trees and come back before her season started. But unlike Willow, the world was far from perfect. “But could I at least get your autograph?”

“Only if I can get your autograph,” she teased, hitting the side of her hip against his. “I wanna brag about you to my teammates.”

“Brag about me?” He teased, inching closer to her. “Oh no no, I’m the one who will be bragging about you to my colleagues.”

“Well I’m the one with half a dozen hand made jackets I get to show off,” she said smugly.

“Oh no, what? You seriously kept all of them?” He asked with a sigh of fake embarrassment. He truly loved making her things and he had improved immensely but his early work was very obviously his early work. But nevertheless, Willow cherished them as though they were from the hottest designer (which in her opinion, they were.)

“Well I want something to remember you by.” She said shyly. She had a jacket for nearly everyday of the week, and for the day she didn’t have a homemade jacket she had acquired quite the collection of his own jackets he had lent her whenever she showed any indication of being cold. They smelled like him, which she used to think was a gross thing to say but she couldn’t argue with the peace it brought her. He smelled like wood chips and old books and fresh grass. It was like an easily accessible embrace when she was out of teleportation distance.

“Oh what, you don’t have enough pictures, ‘Miss 20 Scrapbooks?’” He teased. She loved when they entered this type of banter, how Hunter’s brand of flirting was mostly asking questions as though he knew just how to set her up. They ebbed and flowed until it was like a competition to see who could compliment the other more subtly and they were both extremely competitive.

“Well I blame you for being so photogenic,” she teased back. “It’s not my fault you have such a cute smile.”

“Well it is your fault I smile so much.”

Oooh, he won that round. She sucked her teeth, knowing the blush on her face was clear even in the dim lighting. She was having trouble crafting a response to top that. “Well I’ll gladly take that blame,” she said softly, seeing one of those smiles forming now from the corner of her eye. Oh she didn’t need a photograph to remember that.

She sighed and let her head fall against his shoulder. She was only somewhat overly aware of how much she was touching him tonight. Every playful shove or brush of the hand hid the severe urge to scoop him in her arms and trap him in the tightest embrace. But that would only make letting go harder.

She felt him lean back against her and her mind flash back to a movie night not long ago but now felt like lifetimes ago. They had found themselves left alone, the rest of the group not up to finishing the marathon they had been so excited to start and the pair found it up to them to see it through. It was late, and the movie was fine but Willow had for some reason felt the overwhelming need to be close to him. The way the screen reflected off his eyes, the way he muffled his laughter so as to not awaken everyone else, the way he yawned and stretched his arms and it landed… over her shoulders? She slyly scooted closer to him, testing the waters. He did the same. She pretended to adjust the blanket so she leaned into him more, and his arm held her in place. It was somehow both certain and uncertain, neither of them wanted to bring it to attention in case that was what broke the spell, but they both felt safe and cozy in this midnight bubble.

Now, many midnights later his arm found her shoulder again. More purposely. She looked up at him and he offered her a lopsided smile, still not speaking over what exactly it was but assuring her he was aware. He wanted her this close.

Being this close was another contradiction, the way it was both common and uncommon. They’d always manage to sit next to each other or wind up finding each other but without the guise of a crowd or being crowded, it came down to how to make it happen when you couldn’t simply happen upon it. It felt like always being on the brink of something, so being here now with all the space in the world to occupy and choosing to act magnetized… well how long could it exist without a reason?

“Oh man,” she chuckled, reaching up to cup his chin in her hand, looking up at him to memorize the way he looked in the moonlight. “I’m really gonna miss that smile.” She said it softly, as though it was meant to stay a thought. She brushed a loose hair to the side of his face, another excuse to touch him as their eyes locked. He leaned into her touch again and placed his hand over hers. It was chilling and warm and natural and fleeting. His smile softened just when she thought it couldn’t get any softer and it was so warm she could just melt.

This was the moment he had hoped for. He cleared his throat and went to stand up.

“So there’s actually something I- oh! Ergh!” He stopped himself as he realized he had gotten tangled in a string of especially low hanging lights Luz had added for the event.

“Oh! It’s okay, stand still,” said Willow reaching up to help him untangle himself. “Hang on, I might need a flower to stand on, I can’t quite reach.”

He couldn’t duck down much more lest he bring the collection of lights down with him. Willow’s hands untangled him as carefully and quickly as she could manage, the task making her seemingly unaware at just how close their faces were. Hunter didn’t realize he was holding his breath as he focused on the determined and adorable way she stuck her tongue to the side as she freed him.

“Sorry, I uh think I got taller recently? Somehow?” He said awkwardly, not sure how else to explain it but feeling like he needed to apologize. More feeling like he needed to say something or else the silence would lead him to get lost in her features. He couldn’t imagine how he’d come back from the embarrassment he’d feel if she caught him actively daydreaming about her when she was right in front of him.

“No actually I think I got shorter,” she responded playfully, sensing his uneasiness. They both laughed as the light above them seemed to circle them like a sun, as though creating an illuminated midnight bubble. Like they were living in a fond memory.

“No, you’re the perfect height,” he said just as she freed the last lock.

“Well I won’t argue with you there,” she said softly, staying close to him, always loving the way she looks up to him. The way she could always tell when his gaze was on her. “Seems like even the Owl House is gonna miss you.”

“I guess so,” he chuckled, trying to steady his breath as he tried to determine if she was getting closer or waiting for him to step back. He arms remained at his side, holding back the urge to return to her shoulders.

“I’m sure Luz wouldn’t mind if you took the lights with you though,” Willow continued. “Maybe you could hang them in your new place, like a going away present.”

“Yeah,” he gulped. He didn’t think he’d get a better opportunity. “So uh speaking of that, uh there i-is something I wanted to give you before I left.” His was voice a mixture of nerves and determination she found utterly charming.

“Hunter this is your party, you’re supposed to be the one getting gifts!” She insisted, knowing that Hunter had specifically instructed no one bring gifts and how everyone had definitely not listened.

“Heh, I think you know what I’m gonna say to that,” he said with a smirk.

“That me being here is already the best gift you could ask for,” she responded in her best Hunter impression, playing with his collar.

“Exactly,” he chuckled and nodded. “You just know me too well.”

“Okay so then lemme guess what you wanna give me,” she giggled and closed her eyes to think, her hands going down to take his and swinging them between the two of them as her mind collected her guesses. “Hmmm I know you’ve been trying out knitting recently so maybe a scarf? Oh! Some mittens maybe?”

“Um, well it’s more-.”

“Oh, I hope you didn’t think what I said before meant I had too many jackets cause if it’s a jacket I know I’m gonna love it,” she went on. “Clover loves all the secret pockets you add. Well anyway, I know anything from you is gonna be-.

Before she could finish, he leaned down and gently kissed her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered and looked at him in a small shock, uncertain if this was the gift or if it was just something that had come over him in the moment. Either way his face indicated he did not regret it. It was a simple gesture and he seemed relieved, as though it had been something heavy he had been carrying for her. She wished she could somehow preserve it, tattoo it or frame it or carry it in a locket around her neck. He hadn’t gone too far from her and her eyes quickly darted to his lips and back to his eyes which seemed to have done the exact same thing.

She suddenly wondered if he had been waiting for her out here, hoping she’d wander for air or knowing she’d go looking for him so they could have one last moment to themselves. She felt like she was in a dream she suddenly gained control of, the details of everything were simultaneously crisp and blurry, like Hunter being so close had frozen time and changed the air.

They both held their breath as they gravitated towards each other. It was unclear who pulled who in but suddenly their arms were wrapped around each other as they found themselves in a deep and long anticipated kiss. It was a quiet night, but they brought forth an orchestra and collection of fireworks without saying a word. Like it was the thing they had been on the brink of for all those midnights.

Hunter eagerly moved down to reach her better and she summoned a flower to stand on for a boost so they met the middle. Maybe it was meant to be a quick, chaste peck but it evolved and then evolved again, neither of them finding it in themselves to be the one to break it.

So they didn’t.

His arms secured around her waist and he held her close, cradling her and dipping her like the cover of some grand romance novel and her arms anchored around his neck as one hand found its way through his hair. He somehow knew how to carefully remove her glasses and how to angle his face so their noses didn’t collide as though he had thought about it before. He delicately moved the hand with his glasses to the side of her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. He could feel her smile against his lips which made his own wider and soon bits of laughter were mixed into their exchange.

It was a laughter of joy and relief and certainty. It wasn’t shy or awkward, they fell into it naturally as though they had fallen so many times before. But because they hadn’t, they had so much time to make up for.

When he needed a moment to breathe, she covered the rest of his face with kisses. His jaw, his nose, his forehead all demanded to be shown affection. When she went to kiss his neck she could feel his sharp inhale as he pulled her closer and went to reunite their lips with such vigor that Willow subconsciously summoned a vine to wrap around them as her knees went weak.

They weren’t sure how much time had passed or if it had stopped all together and frankly they were fine with that until a loud crash from inside brought them back to reality. They heard the muffled sounds of Luz and King assuring everyone there were okay to a response of laughter. Although they pulled apart, they still held onto each other like they were a life preserver.

They were each breathless, processing and replaying everything as their forehead naturally rested against each other as they panted. Their insync panting brought forth more laughter, hushed as though they were suddenly worried about being caught. It felt as though so long as it was just them then the moment could go on forever.

Willow wanted it to, it felt as though she had waited lifetimes to be able to take in his smile this way, like a wave that had been building and building just waiting to crash.

But they both knew there were other earthly obligations that needed attention and words that needed to be said. But the words were just as complicated and as much as Hunter was elated that his gift had been welcomed and returned, he had only worked up the nerve for actions and less for words. He didn’t know if it was the emotions of the evening that had gotten them here or something brewing longer but he didn't want to tamper with the moment. But he couldn’t just vanish into the night, well he could but he certainly didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, still memorizing the way the moonlight hit her hair. “Um I have to get up pretty early in the morning tomorrow,” Hunter managed to say at last, his voice hoarse. He was unsure of what he was supposed to say as he handed her back her glasses. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to keep her in his arms and tell her how much he adored her and how amazing she was as he kissed the rest of her face, one for every minute he hadn’t taken the chance to.

“Oh, oh yeah uh you should probably get going,” said Willow, meaning the exact opposite. Now that she had been held by him like this she didn’t want to know any other feeling. She wanted to squeeze him and tell him over and over and over again how lucky she was to know him and how much she trusted him and all the things she had written in her diary about him. She hoped he could read her mind and come back down to her so she kiss him silly.

But instead she released him slowly, returning to the ground and felt his hold on her loosen. Leaving his embrace felt like falling from a precipice. They stood there for a moment, both waiting for the other to say what needed to be said. Their hands soon found each other, naturally entering their signature pinky hold like a promise they always returned to. Like a light always visible in the darkness.

“So I guess this is… goodbye?” She asked.

“Yeah I guess it is.” He replied with a sad smile.

He felt like he could kiss her goodbye, that it would be appropriate and wanted and reciprocated. But he felt that if he kissed her now he wouldn’t know when to stop. That he wouldn’t let go. He worried he couldn’t recreate the confidence and passion the spontaneous act had brought out in him. He worried it was a dream. He worried that she had only kissed him because he was leaving. He worried he had waited too long.

“But only for now,” she went on, her voice shaking as it was apparent she was holding back tears. She powered through as she looked up at him, her lipstick smeared over most of his face. “Promise me you’ll message me as soon as you get there?”

“Of course,” he said.

“Okay good,” she said, searching for something more profound to say. She wanted to send him off with something more, something to assure him this was something more. But he already had so much on his mind, she didn’t want to add any uncertainty or pressure to his plate. But regardless of any additional feelings she harbored, she cared about him no matter the label their relationship wore and that was something she did not let him forget. “Have a safe trip, captain’s order.”

“Of course,” he said again with a smile and he pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his torso and his chin rested atop her head.

He heard her let out a small sniffle and he felt his own eyes sting with tears.

“I’m really gonna miss you captain,” he whispered.

“It’s not that long,” she said, muffled by his shirt. “It’s just 365 days until your next day off, right?”

“Right,” he said and felt her hug him tighter. He remembered the first time she had said that, as if that was the day his days began to hold value. The day he knew he didn’t have to be alone, that he didn’t want to be alone. The day he knew he wanted her in as many days as possible, and one day he hoped to have more days with her than without her. He had endured worse things, he needed to remind himself. Saying goodbye to everyone had been emotional, but saying goodbye to her carried so much more.

“It’s just 365 days.”

He hoped it would be there when they said hello again.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

new year’s eve really was better than you’d expected.

the night air is crisp, nipping at your cheeks and nose as you stand on the balcony. the muffled hum of music and chatter from the party inside fills the background, but out here, it’s quieter. peaceful. matt stands next to you, leaning against the railing with his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets.

“you okay?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. his voice is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s trying not to break the spell of the moment.

you nod, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. “yeah, just needed some air. it was getting a little crowded in there.”

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, and it makes your chest feel lighter. “yeah, same. plus, i wanted to make sure you didn’t freeze out here alone.”

you roll your eyes playfully, but his words make your heart flutter anyway. “i’m fine. it’s not that cold.”

matt raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced. without a word, he unwinds the scarf from around his neck and steps closer, gently wrapping it around yours. his hands linger for a second as he adjusts it, his fingers brushing against your collarbone.

“better?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“better,” you reply, though the warmth spreading through you has nothing to do with the scarf.

for a moment, the two of you just stand there, the silence stretching out but never feeling uncomfortable. the city lights twinkle in the distance, and the stars above seem impossibly bright. it feels like the kind of moment you’d see in a movie—too perfect to be real.

inside, someone starts the countdown to midnight. “ten, nine…” the sound drifts through the open balcony door, pulling you both back to the present.

matt glances at you, his lips quirking into that shy, lopsided smile that always makes your heart skip a beat. “you know, it’s kind of a tradition to kiss someone at midnight,” he says, his tone light but his eyes serious.

you tilt your head, feigning innocence even though your pulse is suddenly racing. “oh, is it? i hadn’t heard.”

“seven, six…”

he chuckles softly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “well, i mean, no pressure or anything. just… putting it out there.”

“four, three…”

you step closer, close enough that you can see the faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “you’re terrible at playing it cool, you know that?”

“two…”

“yeah,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper, “i know.”

“one…”

before the cheers erupt from inside, matt closes the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft and tentative, like he’s still testing the waters. it only lasts a moment, but it’s enough to make the world around you disappear.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he’s smiling—really smiling, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes your knees feel weak.

“happy new year,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.

“happy new year,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

the noise from the party grows louder, and someone shouts for the two of you to come back inside. but for now, you’re content to stay right here, wrapped in matt’s scarf and the glow of the moment. it’s the perfect start to a new year.

a/n: this is cute and dont ask why matt’s wearing a scarf idk either i was just really feeling scarfs

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @claireezz10 @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris

[magnagaruzenmon]

Stay Alive

The first part of heavy metal, and woo this is a doozy to start on…fuck you dino. Also happy new years. I hope you've been having fun with Daigo's holiday specials, because this is the last one for now

I just wanna thank @coldfanbou and @lustspren for writing cool stuff. No smut yet needed to world build hope that’s okay.

“Ah, come on, Daigo, it’ll be fun! Picture this: a three-day music festival entirely dedicated to girl groups. Some of your favorites—Dreamcatcher, Twice, Eunbi, and so many more! How could you say no to that?”

Jonas’s enthusiasm was infectious, but I wasn’t in the mood. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The chaos from recent riots at music festivals played on a loop in my mind—overcrowding, fights breaking out, people getting hurt. I’d seen it up close before, and I wasn’t eager to put myself in the middle of it again.

“I don’t know…” I hesitated, glancing at the stack of bills on my counter that never seemed to shrink. “It’s just—with all the violence lately, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jonas let out an exaggerated sigh on the other end of the line. “Daigo, you’re killing me here. Look, I need someone I can trust for this gig. You’ve got experience, you’re good under pressure, and—let’s be real—you’re the biggest fangirl I know when it comes to these groups.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Fangirl? That’s rich coming from the guy who cried when LOONA disbanded.”

“That was different, and you know it!” Jonas shot back, feigning indignation. “Tell you what, though. You help me out this one time, and I’ll sweeten the deal: I’ll get you backstage access for your top three groups. You can say hi, do the whole meet-and-greet thing, and—” he paused for dramatic effect, “I’ll pay you double time.”

“Double time and a meet-and-greet?” I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You must be desperate.”

“Desperate doesn’t even cover it,” Jonas admitted. “But I know you, Daigo. You’ll do it. You just need a little incentive.”

I leaned forward, considering his offer. The idea of meeting Dreamcatcher, Twice, and Eunbi backstage was tempting. Hell, it was more than tempting—it was a dream come true. But I wasn’t about to let him off easy.

“Okay,” I said, dragging the word out. “I’ll do it. But on one condition: you pay me in advance for the regular eight-hour shifts. When overtime inevitably hits—and we both know it will—you can pay me after.”

I expected him to balk, to try to negotiate or talk me down. Instead, Jonas practically shouted into the phone. “Fine! Deal!”

I sighed, shaking my head. “You’re way too excited about this. I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Only if you don’t bring something for your bias to sign!” Jonas teased, and before I could respond, he added, “I’ll send you the details. And, Daigo? Thanks, man. I owe you big time.”

As I hung up, I stared at my phone, torn between dread and anticipation. The job might be chaos, sure, but the thought of meeting my idols backstage was enough to nudge me into action. Maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t be so bad.

The first two days of the festival passed in a blur. I worked with Lightsum alongside a guy named Dinozen, a chill dude with a sharp sense of humor, and covered the super-secret IZ*ONE reunion stage with someone named Dexter, a no-nonsense guy who seemed to have everything under control. Unsurprisingly, the girls were all the sweetest. Chowon, Sakura, and Eunbi even signed my photocards, which was an experience I’d never forget.

Hyewon, though, surprised me. She noticed my Night of the Living Dead phone case while I was setting up security near the backstage area.

“Oh my God, is that Romero’s Night of the Living Dead?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she leaned in closer to get a better look.

“Yeah,” I said, holding up the phone so she could see it better. “You’re a fan?”

“Are you kidding? I love zombie movies. Do you like Train to Busan?”

“Of course! A classic,” I replied, and we spent a few minutes geeking out about the genre before she got whisked away for rehearsals.

The last day of the festival was intense, to say the least. The lineup was packed: IVE, LE SSERAFIM, QWER, GFRIEND (yes, Eunha and Lil Uzi Vert were there), KISS OF LIFE, Dreamcatcher, and finally, Twice.

For the first two stages, Sakura, Chaewon, Yujin, and Wonyoung spotted me lingering around during the early morning soundchecks.

“Did you even sleep last night?” Wonyoung called out, grinning mischievously as she approached with the others in tow.

“Barely,” I admitted, stifling a yawn.

“You’re here earlier than us! Are you secretly a sasaeng?” Sakura teased, elbowing me lightly as the others burst into laughter.

“Yeah, what’s your bias list?” Chaewon added with mock suspicion, crossing her arms and squinting at me.

“Okay, first of all,” I said, holding up a finger, “I’m not a sasaeng. Second, I’m here working. You know, security?”

“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say,” Yujin quipped.

“Don’t worry, oppa, we’ll keep your secret,” Wonyoung said, winking.

“Oppa?!” I exclaimed, rolling my eyes at their antics. “You’re all impossible.”

Truth be told, I didn’t mind. Their teasing broke the ice, and by the end of their set, they were thanking me profusely for keeping everything running smoothly.

Later, I found myself working security for GFRIEND. Eunha caught me lingering backstage and decided to strike up a conversation.

“You’re awfully quiet for a security guy,” she said, tilting her head. “Do we intimidate you?”

“Not at all,” I said with a smirk. “I’m just professional. But since we’re chatting—big fan, by the way.”

Eunha grinned, leaning in slightly. “Oh? Do you have a favorite song?”

“‘Time for the Moon Night.’ No contest.”

“Good choice,” she said, clearly pleased. “You’ve got good taste. But…” She paused, her expression turning playful. “What’s your bias list for Twice?”

“You’re not getting that out of me,” I said, laughing.

“Oh, come on!” she said, punching my arm lightly before getting called away for rehearsal.

QWER was an entirely different vibe. From the moment they showed up, they were absolute chaos gremlins. Magenta spotted my Ultraman keychain dangling from my belt and let out a gasp loud enough to make heads turn.

“Is that Ultraman?!” she exclaimed, running over.

“Yeah. You a fan?”

“Am I a fan?!” she said, practically bouncing on her heels. “Ultraman Tiga is my favorite! What about you?”

We ended up on a massive tangent about tokusatsu, until Hina chimed in about Final Fantasy when I mentioned I love girls who can fight like Tifa from FFVII. “Tifa’s the best, hands down,” she said, crossing her arms as if daring anyone to argue.

“Agreed,” I said, nodding. “What’s your go-to build for her?”

“Oh, don’t get her started,” Chodan cut in, laughing. “But seriously, what’s your take on League of Legends?” After hearing me say someone was inting in the previous conversation.

That led to another rabbit hole of nerd talk, with Chodan grilling me about champs and strategies while Magenta playfully teased her for his “tryhard vibes.”

After their performance, Magenta pulled me aside. “Hey, if you want a job after this, come to Korea,” she said, a surprising seriousness in her tone. “I’m sure we can find a spot for you.”

I rolled my eyes, thinking it was just more teasing. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that.”

“No, really,” she said, locking eyes with me. “Think about it. You’d fit in.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, but before I could respond, she was already running off to join the others.

Sure! Here’s an expanded version of the scene with more dialogue and detail:

Dreamcatcher’s set was a whirlwind. They came in, stole the show with their energy and charisma, and left just as quickly. It was clear they were pros, used to the hectic schedule of being on tour. I barely had a chance to speak with them, but as I was walking backstage, Yoohyeon caught sight of my shirt peeking out from under my security uniform.

“Wait—is that a Kaiju No. 8 shirt?” she asked, pointing excitedly.

I froze, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah. Big fan of the series.”

“Same here!” Yoohyeon said, her eyes lighting up. “Dami got me into it. Isn’t Kafka’s transformation just the coolest?”

Dami, standing nearby, smirked. “Yoohyeon keeps trying to get everyone in the group to read it.”

“It’s worth it!” Siyeon chimed in, adjusting her jacket. “But, seriously, where’d you get that shirt? I’ve been looking for merch everywhere.”

I laughed nervously. “Online. Limited drop, though, so it might be hard to find now.”

“Lucky,” Dami said, shaking her head. “Anyway, we’d better go. Tour schedule’s tight.”

They waved as they hurried out, leaving me feeling both starstruck and a little bummed that I didn’t have more time to talk to them.

As Dreamcatcher’s bus pulled away, Twice was arriving. Their energy was palpable even before they stepped out, fans screaming from behind the barricades as they made their way inside. I was checking the perimeter when I heard a familiar voice.

“You were at our LA concert a few years ago.”

I turned to see Dahyun, smiling warmly as she approached. For a second, I was stunned.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “How did you remember that?”

Dahyun tilted her head, still smiling. “We don’t have many fans that look like…you, so I always try to remember their faces. Plus, you brought that light-up ring instead of our Candybong.”

I laughed, embarrassed but also flattered. “Yeah, the Candybong was sold out, so I improvised.”

“Well, it worked! We all thought it was cool.”

Before I could say anything else, the ground beneath us seemed to shift. setting everyone on edge.

“What was that?” someone whispered behind me.

And then the screams began.

From the crowd near the main stage, people started to thrash and convulse, their movements jerky and unnatural. Others began growling, their voices guttural and animalistic. The sight was surreal—like something out of a horror movie.

“Everyone, move!” I yelled, springing into action.

I turned to Dahyun and the rest of Twice. “Get to the evacuation buses. Now!”

They didn’t argue, following my lead as I herded them and the remaining girl groups backstage toward the buses. The screams and chaos grew louder as the infected began attacking others in the crowd, tearing into them with horrifying ferocity.

“Keep moving!” I shouted, adrenaline surging as I kept the idols together, forming a protective barrier between them and the chaos.

One by one, the groups boarded the buses. I stayed behind to make sure everyone was accounted for, scanning the area for any stragglers.

“Daigo, get on!” someone shouted from inside the last bus.

As I turned to board, a hand grabbed me, yanking me backward with incredible strength. The bus door shut just as I lost my footing.

The man who had grabbed me was no longer human. His eyes were bloodshot, black veins bulging across his face and neck like spiderwebs. He growled, the sound primal and terrifying, before lunging at me.

I struggled against him, barely managing to shove him off, but not before his teeth sank into my arm. Pain shot through me as I kicked him away, slamming a nearby door into his face before scrambling to my car.

Blood was dripping from my arm as I started the engine, my hands shaking. My phone buzzed with an emergency alert:

“EMERGENCY ALERT: FERAL RAGE VIRUS OUTBREAK IN LOS ANGELES. AVOID INFECTED INDIVIDUALS. IF BITTEN, SELF-ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY.”

A wave of dread washed over me as the words sank in. A zombie apocalypse—and I’d been bitten.

By the time I got home, I was running on autopilot. I found a note from my family on the kitchen counter:

“We evacuated. Stay safe. We love you.”

I smiled faintly, relieved that they had made it out, even as the reality of my situation settled in. I sat down on the couch, clutching my arm as I waited—waited for the inevitable.

But as the hours passed, nothing happened. No fever, no loss of control, no primal urge to attack. Just silence.

Something was wrong—or maybe something was right. Whatever it was, I wasn’t turning. At least, not yet. 28 weeks later

California had been decimated by the undead in a matter of days. The infection spread faster than anyone could have predicted, turning the Golden State into a graveyard of abandoned cities and roaming hordes of the infected. Military barricades crumbled, evacuation plans failed, and those who were lucky got out while they could. Planes were packed with desperate refugees, cars clogged the highways leading east, and boats left the coastlines overcrowded with those willing to risk open waters.

For me, leaving wasn’t an option.

I didn’t have the luxury of escape, not because I couldn’t find a way out, but because of the bite on my arm. By the time the infection reached its peak, there were no confirmed cases of immunity. A bite was a death sentence—or worse, an eternity as one of the infected. The thought of being trapped in that kind of existence kept me grounded, unwilling to risk spreading the infection to anyone else.

But something strange happened.

I didn’t turn.

Days turned into weeks, and then months. The black veins that had crawled up my arm after the attack faded away within hours, leaving only a faint scar where the infected’s teeth had punctured my skin. I waited for the fever to come, for the primal urges, for the hallucinations people had described before losing themselves. None of it happened.

In fact, the only time I got remotely sick was from a bad batch of shrimp I’d scavenged off an abandoned food truck near the Santa Monica pier.

At first, I thought maybe I was just a late bloomer, that the virus would eventually catch up to me and take over. I avoided people, avoided crowded safe zones, not wanting to risk spreading whatever was inside me. I spent most of my time moving quietly through the ruins of Los Angeles, scavenging supplies and avoiding the Zs as best I could.

The thing was, the Zs avoided me too.

It wasn’t immediate, but over time, I started noticing that they didn’t react to me the way they did to others. If I stayed still, they would stumble past as if I weren’t even there. If I walked into a horde, they would part like a school of fish around a predator.

It was unsettling at first, terrifying even, but I couldn’t deny the advantage it gave me. I became a ghost in the city, slipping through once-busy streets and long-abandoned suburbs. I didn’t need to hide anymore.

Whatever was inside me, whatever had stopped the virus from taking hold, had made me different.

And in a world where survival was everything, being different wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

At first, surviving felt like an achievement. I kept moving, kept scavenging, and avoided any unnecessary risks. But as the weeks bled into months, that sense of urgency faded, replaced by something else: boredom.

The excitement of sneaking through an abandoned city, the thrill of dodging Zs, even the satisfaction of finding a can of beans in the back of an overturned truck—it all started to feel routine. The days blurred together.

Wake up. Scavenge. Avoid Zs. Sleep.

For a while, I wandered aimlessly. I retraced old memories, revisiting places I’d once loved. The Santa Monica Pier, now eerily quiet except for the creak of its abandoned rides. Griffith Park, where the Hollywood sign still stood, a crumbling symbol of a bygone world. But eventually, even nostalgia wasn’t enough to fill the emptiness.

So I headed south.

San Diego seemed as good a place as any to settle. The Zs were thinner here, the population having fled or been wiped out in the first waves of the outbreak. The weather was mild, the ocean breeze cutting through the silence, and the naval base offered plenty of resources for the taking if I could get past the wreckage.

I found an old house in a quiet suburb, tucked away behind overgrown trees and hedges. It was small but sturdy, with thick walls and a decent vantage point from the second floor. The backyard had a rusted swing set, a reminder of the family that had once lived here.

Over time, I turned it into my safe haven.

The front door was reinforced with scrap metal I’d scavenged from a nearby junkyard. Windows were boarded up, and the second-floor balcony became my lookout point. I rigged up a crude rainwater collection system with a tarp and some old gutters and managed to get a small solar panel working, enough to power a single lightbulb and charge my radio.

I spent my days scavenging for supplies, fortifying the house, and exploring the surrounding neighborhoods. Grocery stores, gas stations, and even old military supply depots had been picked clean, but every once in a while, I’d find something useful—tools, canned food, medicine.

It was a life, I suppose.

But it was also mind-numbingly dull.

I tried to keep myself busy. I’d read old books I found in abandoned houses, patch holes in my clothes, and even attempted to learn how to cook properly with the limited ingredients I had. But there were only so many ways to make canned beans and rice interesting, and only so many times I could read Dune before the words started to blur together.

The worst part was the silence.

I used to think I hated noise—traffic jams, crowded malls, loud neighbors. But now, I would have given anything to hear another human voice, even just in passing. The only sounds were the distant groans of Zs, the wind rattling through broken windows, and the occasional creak of the house settling under its own weight.

Sometimes, I’d sit on the roof at night, staring at the stars and wondering if there was anyone else out there. Were there other people like me, survivors trying to rebuild? Or was I really the last one left, wandering through the ruins of the world?

Whatever the answer, one thing was clear: this life wasn’t sustainable.

I needed a purpose. Something to do, somewhere to go. Anything to break the monotony.

But until then, I kept moving through the same routine, day after day, wondering how long I could keep going before the boredom consumed me entirely.

Life alone in San Diego wasn’t just about surviving anymore—it was about mastering survival. The boredom had driven me to find ways to fill my days, and in doing so, I’d turned what was once a simple safe house into a fortress of modern conveniences.

The first breakthrough came with the solar panels. I’d stumbled across a half-abandoned solar farm about a mile from my safe house. It had been overrun with Zs, but they didn’t notice me as I worked my way through the facility, scavenging what I could. I started small, hauling back a single panel and an inverter to test if I could rig it up to charge my car battery. When that worked, I went back for more.

It took weeks of trial and error, piecing together wiring and jerry-rigging connections, but eventually, I had enough solar power to light my house, charge a working phone, and even run a small TV. The TV only played old DVDs I found in people’s basements or streaming content saved offline, but it was better than staring at the walls in silence.

Next, I tackled the water situation. Collecting rainwater was easy enough, but I wanted something more. I scavenged pipes, valves, and even an old water heater from a hardware store and figured out how to reroute collected water through the system. After several failed attempts—and one near-disaster involving a busted valve and a flooded basement—I managed to create a working setup. Hot water was a luxury I never thought I’d have again, but on cold nights, a hot shower made all the difference.

Siphoning gas was easier than I expected, though it came with risks. I learned to be fast and cautious, always checking my surroundings before sticking the hose into an abandoned car or truck. Over time, I built up a stockpile of fuel, which I stored in metal barrels I kept in the garage. The gas wasn’t just for the occasional use of my car but also for running a small generator when the solar panels didn’t get enough sunlight.

The freezers were my crowning achievement. I found a pair of them in a strip mall appliance store that had been untouched—probably because most people didn’t think about long-term food storage during the chaos of an apocalypse. Getting them back to my safe house was a nightmare involving a borrowed pickup truck, a makeshift ramp, and more muscle than I thought I had. But once I hooked them up to the solar grid, they became indispensable.

One freezer was stocked with frozen food I’d scavenged from long-abandoned grocery stores, still surprisingly edible thanks to the cold temperatures in the freezers I’d found them in. The other I filled with supplies I processed myself—vacuum-sealed meats, vegetables, and even some wild game I managed to hunt with a crossbow I’d picked up along the way.

Over time, I built up reserves that would have made a doomsday prepper jealous: shelves lined with canned goods, jars of pickled vegetables, packets of instant coffee, and more tools and spare parts than I’d probably ever need.

I even managed to get my hands on a working smartphone, though the lack of cell service meant it was little more than a glorified camera and notepad. Still, I found ways to make it useful, storing downloaded survival guides, maps of San Diego, and even the occasional audiobook.

It wasn’t the life I’d imagined for myself, but it was a life nonetheless.

Yet as I sat in my makeshift living room one evening, surrounded by the quiet hum of the solar-powered TV and the faint glow of LED lights, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the silence pressing down on me. I had everything I needed to survive and more, but I still felt the gnawing emptiness of isolation.

I’d conquered boredom with ingenuity, but what I couldn’t conquer was the longing for human connection. For someone to talk to, to laugh with, to share all these little victories with.

The sound of glass crunching underfoot woke me, followed by the unmistakable creak of the front door being pushed open. I sighed, sitting up and grabbing the mattock I kept leaned against my nightstand. Another break-in. It had been months since any zombies had even stumbled across my safe house, and I’d started to think I was truly alone out here.

Guess not.

Descending the stairs quietly, I prepared for the worst. My muscles tensed as I reached the ground floor, but when I rounded the corner into the living room, I froze at the sight of the intruders. They were surprisingly not undead.

A group of about ten people stood huddled together, illuminated by the dim glow of my solar-powered lights. Among them were familiar faces that stopped me dead in my tracks: Loona alum Hyeju, Twice’s Jeongyeon and Dahyun, Yunjin from Le Sserafim, Chodan from QWER, and Yena from IZ*ONE.

Their wide-eyed stares mirrored my own surprise, though for different reasons.

“You know,” I said, breaking the silence and hefting the mattock onto my shoulder, “you could have just knocked.”

The group flinched slightly, but Dahyun and Chodan were the first to recover.

“Daigo?” they said in unison, their voices filled with disbelief.

I nodded, leaning the mattock against the wall. “The one and only. Now,” I said, gesturing toward the group, “how can I help you survivors out?”

Dahyun stepped forward, her face a mix of relief and confusion. “We didn’t think… I mean, we heard rumors that someone was living out here, but we didn’t expect it to be you.”

“Well, here I am,” I said, crossing my arms. “Looking exactly like I did last time you saw me, minus the security guard uniform.”

Chodan laughed, though it was more from nerves than humor. “Leave it to Daigo to survive the apocalypse and somehow look like he’s thriving.”

“I’ve had some practice,” I replied, motioning toward the group. “Now, you all look like you’ve been through hell. Sit down, and let’s figure out what you need.”

Hyeju finally spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. “We’re out of options. Supplies are running low, and we’ve been moving nonstop for weeks. We need food, shelter—anything you can spare.”

Yunjin, standing close to Hyeju, added, “We didn’t mean to break in. We thought this place was abandoned.”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the reinforced door now hanging slightly ajar. “Does this look abandoned to you? The lights didn’t give it away?”

Yena chimed in, her tone apologetic. “In our defense, we’ve seen plenty of powered-up places that were overrun. We didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Fair enough,” I said, letting out a breath. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today. Follow me.”

I led the group into the dining room, which I’d converted into a makeshift supply depot. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with canned goods, first aid supplies, and neatly folded clothes. Two freezers hummed quietly in the corner, a rare sound in the apocalypse.

“Holy crap,” Jeongyeon whispered, her eyes scanning the room. “You’ve got more here than most of the settlements we’ve passed through.”

“Like I said,” I replied, opening one of the freezers to reveal vacuum-sealed packages of meat and frozen vegetables, “I’ve had practice. Take what you need, but don’t get greedy. This isn’t a charity.”

The group quickly got to work organizing supplies, redistributing their belongings, and planning what they needed most. Meanwhile, Dahyun lingered near me, her expression unreadable.

“You really made it out here on your own,” she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief and something close to admiration. “I thought… I thought you might’ve been gone, like everyone else.”

“Would’ve been,” I replied with a small, wry smile, “but I got bit. Bright side? Didn’t turn.”

Her brows furrowed slightly as she digested that information. “You’re immune?”

“Guess so. Though it wasn’t a walk in the park,” I admitted. “But what about you? Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Dahyun shrugged, her gaze dropping to the floor. “We’ve been running since day one. Some of us made it; others didn’t. It’s been… rough.”

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to. “I can imagine. Well, you’re safe here for now. Take a breather. You’ve earned it.”

The tension in her shoulders eased slightly, and she gave me a small, grateful smile before joining the others.

For the first time in months, my house felt alive. Voices filled the air as the group settled in, sharing stories and laughter over the first real meal they’d had in days. They were hesitant at first, like the silence of survival had been ingrained into their instincts. But as the night went on, the weight on their shoulders seemed to lift, even if only temporarily.

After everyone had eaten and showered, Chodan approached me, her sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on me.

“You know,” she began, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, “you’re living like a king here. You could easily take your talents to a settlement and help a lot of people.”

I sighed, setting my water bottle down and rolling up my sleeve to show her the faint remnants of my bite mark.

“I’m infected. Can’t really risk being around people. I could turn at any moment.”

Chodan raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Really?” she said, before lifting her shirt just enough to reveal a faint scar near her side.

My brain short-circuited for a moment. It had been months since I’d seen anyone this close, let alone someone this… distracting. I quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in my face.

“Relax, caveman,” she teased, lowering her shirt. “Just showing you my bite mark. I got bit three weeks ago. The gestation period is supposed to be 48 hours max, and yet… here I am. Still human. So, either we’re both lucky, or we’re both immune. Oh, and by the way,” she added with a mischievous grin, “Dahyun got bit too. Day before yesterday.”

“Wait, what?” I blinked, looking over at Dahyun, who was now watching us with a sheepish expression.

“It’s true,” Dahyun admitted, stepping closer. “I was afraid to say anything at first, but… then I collapsed. As you can see i got better.”

I nodded slowly, piecing it together. “Well, I got bit 28 weeks ago—so I guess I’m either immune or just incredibly unlucky.”

Chodan’s eyebrows shot up. “Twenty-eight weeks? That’s… day zero.”

I nodded again. “Yeah. It happened during the initial outbreak.”

Her expression shifted, a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Did you hear anything on the first day? There were reports of a high-pitched whine right before people started turning.”

I frowned, thinking back. “Nope. Didn’t hear a thing.”

Chodan’s eyes widened. “Oh. Then you’re truly immune.”

I squinted at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if delivering a secret. “The virus can’t infect you at all. If you didn’t hear the sound, it means your body isn’t affected by the signal it sends. You can’t turn, period.”

“But,” I interjected, “when I got bit, my veins turned black.”

“Did you have any other symptoms? Fever? Rage? Loss of consciousness?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought,” Chodan said, standing upright again. “You’re not a regular immune, though. You’re not a Slayer either.”

“Wait—Slayer?” I asked, now thoroughly confused.

Hyeju, who had been quietly observing, chimed in. “Slayers are people who’ve had the virus evolve them instead of killing or turning them. We’re stronger, faster… better, basically.”

I glanced around at the group, now realizing the mix of reactions on their faces. “Wait—you’re all Slayers?”

Chodan grinned. “Me, Hyeju, and Dahyun, yeah.”

“Oh, thanks for explaining it so thoroughly, Hyeju,” I said, shooting her a grateful look.

Hyeju smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome, Daigo. Oh, and thanks for the food.”

“You’re very welcome,” I replied, shaking my head. Of course, my safe house had gone from a sanctuary to a den of superpowered survivors in less than a day.

After the group had cleaned themselves up and prepared to leave, I directed them to the vehicles scattered throughout the neighborhood.

“They should still be working,” I explained, gesturing to the trucks and sedans.

The group looked at me in surprise. “Wait, you’ve been keeping all these in working condition?” Dahyun asked, her eyebrows raised.

I shook my head. “Not exactly. I haven’t repaired them or anything major, but I’ve kept the batteries charged, fluids topped up, and tires inflated. Basic upkeep,” I said with a shrug.

A few of them smiled as they hopped into the trucks. The group packed quickly, clearly practiced in loading supplies efficiently, though their movements carried the exhaustion of constant survival.

As the last of the supplies were loaded, Chodan and Dahyun approached me. They exchanged a glance before Dahyun stepped forward, her voice almost pleading.

“Please come with us,” she said.

Chodan chimed in, her tone more assertive. “We kind of need someone like you.”

I raised an eyebrow, leaning casually on my mattock. “You need a socially awkward hothead?”

Chodan laughed, but Dahyun shook her head, her expression serious. “No. A leader.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her sincerity. My gut reaction was to brush it off, but something in her tone gave me pause. I mulled it over for a moment before sighing. “Sure. Why not?”

The group let out a collective breath of relief, and I found myself helping them secure the last of their supplies before climbing into my car and following their convoy.

When we arrived at their settlement near the military base, my optimism took a nosedive. The place was barely holding together. Makeshift walls surrounded a cluster of tents and scavenged buildings. People wandered the grounds with hollow eyes, looking malnourished and weary.

“Jeez,” I muttered under my breath. “This is what you’re working with?”

As we parked, Eunha stood with a young man near the entrance. They were holding hands, their expressions tinged with equal parts hope and surprise as they saw the trucks pull in.

Yunjin jumped out of one of the vehicles, her voice ringing with triumph. “We got food! And water!”

The settlement erupted into cheers, a wave of relief sweeping over the ragged residents.

I, however, was less than impressed. “Wait, wait, wait,” I called out, holding up a hand. “You have access to water, energy, and military-grade weapons, and yet you look like you’re on the brink of starvation?”

The young man was the first to respond, his voice heavy with frustration. “The base proper is overrun. If you’re so eager to fix it, be my guest.”

I turned to the group, stunned. “So you’re telling me you haven’t even secured the base?”

The residents nodded sheepishly. I groaned, rubbing my temples. Without a word, I popped the trunk of my car and began pulling out weapons: a pair of customized gauntlets and boots I’d tinkered with during my long months alone.

“What are you doing?” one of the settlers asked nervously.

I sighed, strapping on the gear. “Making sure you all don’t die,” I muttered.

Before I could head toward the base, Chodan and Dahyun stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“You can’t go in there,” Chodan said firmly. “There are rippers and changers inside.”

I froze, the names sparking a connection in my mind. Rippers—zombies with bladed arms capable of slicing through steel—and changers—fast, intelligent zombies that evolved in real time. Apex predators in a world of monsters.

“Are there whippers and spitters?” I asked, scanning the group for confirmation.

Everyone looked at me blankly. “What?” Chodan asked.

“Big zombies that spew acid, napalm, or spikes,” I clarified. “Or ones with long tongues that whip around like grappling hooks?”

Chodan and Dahyun exchanged a glance before shaking their heads. “No. None of that,” Dahyun said.

I gave them a thumbs-up. “Great. Then I’m going in, pummeling anything that moves and isn’t human, and we’ll secure the base so we can all stop living in this mess.”

I started toward the base, but Chodan stepped closer—so close I could feel her breath on my chest. My heart stuttered for a moment, and I cursed my brain for its caveman reaction.

“Daigo,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “You can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “For how I fight? Not really. Besides, as long as I follow the first rule of zombie apocalypses, I’ll be fine.”

The group stared at me, confused. “What’s that?” Dahyun finally asked.

I grinned. “Be smart, not scared.”

Without another word, I climbed the fence.

Before I could take another step, Chodan effortlessly vaulted over the fence after me in a single, graceful bound. I looked at her and realized she could easily fend off whatever was in there.

Chodan smirked, falling into step beside me. “You’re going to need me in there,” she said.

I glanced at her, then back at the base. “Guess we’ll see.”

We walked in with weapons raised, every sense heightened as we approached the entrance to the base. The stench of rot and decay hit us like a wall, the ground littered with body parts and unidentifiable chunks of flesh. The once-pristine military structure was now a grotesque tableau of death. Every step squelched against blood-soaked concrete, a grim reminder of what waited for us inside.

The first zombie to spot us let out a guttural screech, its twisted body lurching forward at an unnatural speed. Its milky-white eyes locked onto me as it sprinted, claws outstretched. I snapped my fingers, and flames erupted from my gauntlets and boots, wrapping around them like living entities.

With a single step forward, I swung my fist. The punch connected with the zombie's head, obliterating it in an instant. The headless body collapsed to the floor in a heap, twitching violently before going still.

I glanced over at Chodan, who raised an eyebrow in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Not bad,” she said, her tone impressed but still teasing.

I shrugged, brushing off her compliment. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Over the next few minutes, more zombies emerged from the shadows, drawn by the noise and the scent of fresh prey. Five of them charged at me in quick succession. I moved through them with a fiery ferocity, each punch igniting their decaying flesh. With every strike, I could feel the heat coursing through my body, the fire making short work of the infected.

Just as I finished off the last one, I turned to see Chodan spring into action. She unsheathed a short katana—I think it’s called a wakizashi or something like that—and moved with a lethal grace that was mesmerizing. Each slice of her blade was precise, every motion deliberate.

She ducked and spun, her strikes fluid and elegant as she danced through the undead. Her blade flashed in the dim light, leaving trails of crimson in the air. Within moments, the horde around her lay in pieces. It wasn’t just impressive—it was downright sexy. (What can I say? I like women who can fight, and after six months of isolation, watching Chodan in action was… distracting, to say the least.)

Together, we made our way deeper into the base, clearing out every corridor, room, and hallway we came across. Along the way, we gathered access cards and files, carefully choosing the ones that weren’t completely soaked in blood or viscera. Mapping out the base was crucial if we wanted to make it a safe haven.

Two grueling hours later, we emerged from the base, our task for the day complete.

The camp was waiting for us when we returned. Their faces lit up in shock and awe at the sight of us alive and—well, mostly intact. Thanks to the fiery nature of my weapons, I was relatively clean, save for a few smudges of soot. Chodan, on the other hand, looked like she’d walked straight out of Kill Bill. Her clothes were drenched in blood, and her katana was dripping crimson.

The group stared for a moment before breaking into cheers. Their joy was infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the exhaustion.

Over the next two weeks, the slayers and I worked tirelessly to clear the rest of the base. The deeper sections were overrun, and each encounter with the infected felt like a battle against time and attrition. We couldn’t risk leaving a single zombie behind, knowing even one could cause a mini-outbreak once the camp moved in.

During this time, we also worked to fully map out the base, identifying areas that could be repurposed for agriculture, water purification, and living quarters. One of the larger open-air courtyards became the designated zone for growing vegetables and fruits, a necessary counterbalance to the endless supply of fish we’d soon be consuming.

By the end of the second week, we had restored power to the base and set up a desalination system to provide fresh water. The once-derelict military base was beginning to transform into a functional, self-sufficient community. By the end of the month, we had fortified the perimeter, secured resources, and established a sustainable living environment that could endure the apocalypse indefinitely.

Yet, despite our progress, I couldn’t shake the restless feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.

Sensing this, Yunjin and Hyeju decided to lift everyone’s spirits by organizing a celebration. The party was small but lively, with music, laughter, and a rare sense of warmth filling the air. People danced and shared stories, the weight of survival temporarily forgotten.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt connected—to them, to this place, and maybe even to something greater than myself.

The celebration was in full swing by the time I made my way to the center of the courtyard. Lanterns we’d scavenged from the base cast a warm glow over the party, and the air buzzed with a mix of laughter, music, and the clinking of makeshift cups. For the first time in months, the weight of the apocalypse seemed to lift, even if only temporarily.

I leaned against a crate of supplies, enjoying the scene as I nursed a glass of something Yunjin had proudly labeled “party punch.” (It tasted like motor oil with a hint of lemon, but hey, it was the thought that counted.)

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Dahyun making her way toward me. Her smile was soft, and there was something unspoken in her eyes. “Hey,” she said, holding up her cup as she leaned against the crate beside me.

“Hey,” I replied, offering a small smile.

“I was just thinking,” she began, “none of this would’ve been possible without you. Clearing the base, organizing everything—you’ve done more in a few weeks than we’ve managed in months.”

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It’s not like I did it alone. You all worked just as hard.”

She shook her head, her expression earnest. “Don’t sell yourself short, Daigo. You brought people together. That’s not something everyone can do.”

Before I could respond, Chodan appeared on my other side, seemingly out of nowhere. She slid in smoothly, her confident smirk firmly in place. “Are we talking about how great Daigo is? Because I’ve got a list.”

I blinked, caught off guard by her sudden arrival. Dahyun stiffened beside me, her relaxed posture shifting as her grip tightened on her cup.

“Didn’t realize I had a fan club,” I joked, trying to ease the tension.

Chodan ignored me, her gaze focused on Dahyun. “You’re right, though,” she said, her tone just a little too pointed. “Daigo’s been a real asset. Honestly, I don’t know how we managed without him.”

“Guess you’ll have to start getting used to it,” Dahyun replied, her smile polite but strained. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Chodan tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Oh, I don’t know. He might decide to come on a few missions with me. You know, something more exciting than farming and base maintenance.”

“Farming is exciting when it’s keeping people alive,” Dahyun shot back, her voice calm but firm. “Not everyone needs to play the hero to make a difference.”

I glanced between the two of them, sensing the subtle sparks flying. “Uh, you guys okay?” I asked, trying to break the tension.

“Perfectly fine,” Dahyun said quickly, taking a sip of her drink.

“Just fine,” Chodan echoed, crossing her arms as she leaned closer to me. “Speaking of heroes, Daigo, you’ve got to tell me how you learned to fight like that. I’ve never seen anyone take on a group of zombies the way you did.”

Dahyun raised an eyebrow. “It’s not all about fighting. He’s got other skills too, like keeping the base running and making sure we don’t starve. That’s just as important.”

“Of course,” Chodan replied smoothly, her tone dripping with faux agreement. “But let’s be real—there’s no base to run if you can’t keep it safe.” She turned to me, her expression playful but loaded. “Right, Daigo?”

I felt like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh… I mean, both are important?”

Dahyun rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression now. “Nice save,” she said, bumping her shoulder lightly against mine.

Chodan laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Guess that’s why he’s the leader, huh?”

The three of us stood there for a moment, the awkwardness lingering but not entirely unpleasant. As the party carried on around us, I couldn’t help but feel a little flattered, even if the attention was overwhelming.

Yunjin’s voice cut through the noise, calling everyone to the center for a toast. I used the opportunity to excuse myself, slipping away from the growing crowd and finding a quieter corner to breathe.

As I leaned against the wall, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. The apocalypse sure had a funny way of complicating things.

The camp had grown exponentially since we first cleared the base. Word spread fast, and survivors from across the region trickled in, desperate for safety and stability. Among the newcomers were two slayers: Hyewon, a quiet yet sharp-eyed scout from a decimated group, and Tsuki, a high-energy fighter with a knack for unconventional tactics.

Their arrival was a turning point.

I was inspecting the desalination system one morning when Hyewon approached me, her movements were measured but purposeful. She didn’t say much at first—just hovered nearby, watching as I adjusted a valve. Finally, she spoke.

“You really run this place?” she asked, her tone neutral but her eyes cautious.

“I guess so,” I replied with a shrug. “Not much of a title, but I try to keep things running smoothly.”

She nodded, her expression softening slightly. “You treat slayers… differently.”

“Differently how?”

“Like people,” she said simply. “My last group didn’t.”

Before I could respond, Tsuki bounded up, her energy a stark contrast to Hyewon’s reserved demeanor.

“This place is amazing!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels. “Food, water, even showers! And no one’s looking at us like we’re monsters.” She paused, giving me a wide grin. “You’re the boss, right?”

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” I said, standing up and wiping my hands on a rag. “But I try to keep everyone alive.”

“Well, count me in!” Tsuki declared, sticking out her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Hyewon, still standing a few feet away, added quietly, “Me neither.”

At first, their attachment was subtle. Hyewon would shadow me during supply runs, her sharp eyes scanning for threats. Tsuki, on the other hand, was more overt, always offering to help with repairs or sparring with other slayers under my supervision.

But as more survivors arrived, the camp’s dynamics began to shift. With new faces came new opinions—and new power struggles.

One evening, after a long day of clearing more space in the base for new arrivals, a meeting was called in the main hall. It was supposed to be a discussion about resource management, but it quickly spiraled into a debate over leadership.

“Daigo’s done a great job, but we need more structure,” a man named Mark, one of the newer arrivals, said. “We can’t just rely on one person’s decisions.”

“I agree,” chimed in Lisa, a former teacher who’d quickly become a voice for the non-slayer survivors. “We should have a council or something. It’s too risky to have all the power in one person’s hands.”

“I don’t think he’s been abusing it,” Dahyun countered, her voice calm but firm.

Mark shot her a look. “That’s not the point. The camp’s grown too big for one person to handle.”

Before I could speak, Tsuki jumped to her feet.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, her voice rising. “Daigo’s the reason this place isn’t a pile of ash. If it weren’t for him, half of you wouldn’t even be here!”

Hyewon, still seated, added quietly but pointedly, “He treats slayers like equals. That’s more than I can say for most of you.”

The room grew tense, the divide between slayers and non-slayers suddenly glaring.

“I’m not saying we don’t appreciate him,” Mark said, his tone defensive. “But this camp belongs to all of us, not just the slayers.”

“And yet you’re here because of us,” Chodan interjected, standing next to Dahyun. “You think you’d survive a day out there without us?”

The argument grew louder, voices overlapping as the group fractured into factions. Some sided with Mark and Lisa, calling for more democratic leadership. Others, particularly the slayers, stood by me, pointing out the unique challenges we faced in keeping everyone alive.

I raised my hand, and slowly the room quieted.

“Enough,” I said, my voice firm but not angry. “This isn’t about me, or anyone else. It’s about survival. We can figure out the leadership structure later. Right now, we focus on what matters: keeping this camp safe and functional.”

The room was silent for a moment, then Lisa spoke up. “Fair enough. But this conversation isn’t over.”

She and Mark left the hall, and slowly, others followed, leaving only the slayers and a few loyal survivors. Tsuki crossed her arms, glaring at the door.

“They don’t get it,” she muttered.

“They’re scared,” I said, leaning against the table. “Can’t blame them for that.”

Hyewon stood, her gaze steady. “You’re too nice, Daigo. But that’s why we trust you.”

Chodan nodded, and even Dahyun offered a rare smile.

As the others filed out, I sat alone in the hall for a while, the weight of the growing camp pressing down on me. Leadership wasn’t something I’d ever asked for, but it seemed I didn’t have much of a choice.

Later that night I found myself struggling to sleep. My quarters were as simple as it got: a small bed with a lumpy mattress, a desk buried under maps and scavenged files, and a single lamp casting just enough light to keep the darkness at bay. After the day I’d had, all I wanted was to pass out. But sleep wasn’t coming easily. Too many faces were swimming in my head—worried faces, hopeful faces, faces looking to me for answers.

I was lying there, staring at the ceiling, when a soft knock came at the door.

“It’s open,” I called, too tired to sit up.

The door creaked open, and I glanced over to see Chodan stepping inside. She looked calm, but I knew her well enough by now to notice the subtle tension in her posture.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Figured you’d still be awake.”

“Barely,” I muttered, letting my head fall back onto the pillow. “What’s up?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked over to the bed and knelt down beside me. Before I could ask what she was doing, I felt her hands on my shoulders.

“What are you—”

“You’re tense,” she interrupted, already working at the knots in my muscles. “Let me help.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Her hands were strong, and as much as I wanted to protest, I couldn’t deny it felt good. So I just sighed and let her work, the tension slowly melting away.

“You’ve got your hands full,” she said after a while, her tone light. “Especially with your little ducklings.”

“My what now?” I asked, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye.

“Hyewon and Tsuki,” she said with a smirk. “They’ve imprinted on you like a couple of baby ducks.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “They’re not ducklings. They’re just… adjusting.”

“Adjusting to following you around like lost puppies?” she teased. “You can’t take two steps without one of them popping up to ask if you need anything.”

“They’re slayers,” I said defensively. “They’ve been through hell. Of course they’re going to stick close to someone who treats them with basic respect.”

Chodan’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “And that’s exactly why they follow you, you know. Most people don’t look at us the way you do.”

“The way I do?”

“Like we’re just people,” she said quietly. “Not monsters. Not weapons. Just… people.”

I was silent for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “Because you are just people,” I said finally. “You didn’t ask for this any more than the rest of us asked for zombies. You’re just trying to survive like everyone else.”

Chodan’s hands stilled on my shoulders, and when I looked over, her expression was softer than I’d ever seen it.

“That’s not how everyone sees it,” she said. “Since more survivors started showing up, Dahyun and I… we’ve felt it. The whispers, the stares. It’s like we don’t belong here anymore. Like we’re dangerous.”

I sat up, brushing her hands aside so I could look her in the eye. “You belong here,” I said firmly. “Both of you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

She studied me for a long moment, then smiled—a small, genuine smile that made her look younger, almost vulnerable. “You’re a strange guy, Daigo,” she said. “But I think that’s why people follow you. Even when they don’t agree with you, they trust you.”

I chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Strange, huh? I’ll take it.”

Chodan tilted her head, her smile turning sly again. “You know, you’ve done more than any of us. You’re not a slayer, but you’ve taken down more zombies than all of us combined. And you’re immune on top of that. It’s like you’re something else entirely.”

“Just a guy with a lot of stubbornness and a decent punch,” I said with a shrug.

She shook her head. “No, you’re more than that. You’ve earned a title.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A title?”

She nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah. From now on, you’re ‘The Vanquisher.’”

I laughed, shaking my head. “The Vanquisher? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” she said with a grin. “But it fits. You’re the guy who doesn’t back down, no matter what’s in front of you. And you’ve given all of us hope. You deserve it.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I managed, “Thanks, Chodan. That… means a lot.”

She stood, stretching and giving me one last playful look. “Get some rest, Vanquisher. Tomorrow’s another busy day.”

As she left the room, I lay back down, the weight on my chest feeling a little lighter. For the first time in weeks, I drifted off to sleep with a small smile on my face.

The door to my quarters closed softly behind Chodan, but her teasing smirk lingered in my mind as I lay back down. Her parting remark about my “little ducklings” had been a low blow. She wasn’t wrong, though. Tsuki and Hyewon had latched onto me like lost kids, which wasn’t a problem—until you factored in Chodan and Dahyun, who had both been… friendlier lately.

I didn’t know what to make of it. They were strong, capable women, and maybe I was imagining things, but their lingering glances and playful jabs felt like more than camaraderie. It was something I’d need to ask them about. Tomorrow, I decided.

Only tomorrow didn’t start the way I planned.

The yelling pulled me from a restless sleep. I threw on my boots and stepped out into the chilly morning air to find Gil, Eunha’s boyfriend, squaring off with one of Martin’s goons.

“You left her to die!” Gil snarled, shoving the guy hard enough that he stumbled.

Martin’s man pushed back, and before things escalated further, I stepped between them. “What’s going on here?”

Gil’s chest was heaving, his hands clenched into fists. “Eunha’s out there, Daigo. Alone. She got bit because of them!”

Martin sauntered up, wearing his usual smug expression. “It’s simple,” he said, shrugging like this wasn’t life and death. “She wasn’t cut out for supply runs. Not my problem.”

For a second, I was too stunned to respond. I glanced back at Gil, who looked ready to explode, and said the only thing I could. “Let’s go get her.”

The commotion had drawn a crowd. Lisa’s group, always eager for drama, arrived first. Mark wasn’t far behind, his posse trailing like shadows.

“What’s going on?” Lisa asked, her tone sharp.

“This crazy bastard is going to help that lovesick idiot find his zombie girlfriend,” Martin sneered.

I ignored him, turning instead to Chodan and Dahyun, who had pushed their way through the growing throng. I handed them the site keycards without a word. If something happened to me, they’d keep the camp together.

Before I could leave, Tsuki and Hyewon appeared, weapons already strapped on.

“We’re coming with you,” Tsuki said, her tone resolute.

I sighed but didn’t argue. It wasn’t worth the fight. The four of us set out, Gil fuming silently at my side while Hyewon and Tsuki kept pace behind us.

Once we were out of earshot of the camp, my frustration boiled over.

“Those idiots are going to get everyone killed,” I growled, my voice low but seething.

Gil, Tsuki, and Hyewon stopped in their tracks, stunned.

“They’re so caught up in their fear and egos that they’re making stupid choices,” I continued, pacing now. “And when they screw up, people die. Or worse, they turn into slayers.”

Gil looked at me, shocked. “I… I didn’t realize…”

I stopped and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my temper in check. “It’s not your fault, Gil. You’re good. They’re the ones twisting everything. These supply runs? They’re not about survival. They’re about power. Credibility. They’re trying to build themselves up while tearing the rest of us down.”

The others didn’t reply, their silence heavy. We reached the edge of the horde soon after. Eunha was there, fighting for her life, her movements erratic but fierce.

I whistled, drawing the zombies’ attention away from her. “Let’s get her out of this mess.”

When we returned to the camp, Eunha was barely conscious. Her slayer transformation was starting, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant. I sent Gil to the infirmary with her while I headed back toward the center of camp.

That’s when I saw them—a new group of survivors, all slayers. And among them, three familiar faces: Momo Hirai, Sana Minatozaki, and Mina Myoui.

Dahyun’s cry of joy echoed through the air as she ran to embrace her friends. The reunion was heartwarming, but it didn’t last long. Lisa, Mark, and Martin arrived like clockwork, their expressions darkening the moment they spotted the new arrivals.

“Who are they?” Lisa demanded, her voice like a whip crack.

Sana stepped forward, her radiant smile disarming. “We’re survivors, just like you. And we’re slayers. We can help.”

The word “slayers” hit like a bomb. I watched as Lisa’s face twisted in disgust, while Mark and Martin exchanged uneasy glances.

“No,” Lisa said, her voice dripping with venom. “We have enough slayers already.”

Something inside me snapped.

I stepped forward, my presence enough to silence the crowd. “I am sick and tired of your bullshit,” I said, my voice low and measured, every word cutting like a blade.

The tension in the air was palpable as I continued, “We’re all just trying to survive, and you three are doing the absolute most while somehow doing the least. You put people in danger, then leave them for dead. Why? For what? Por qué? 무어?”

Lisa, to her credit, didn’t back down. “You protect these freaks because two of them are your paramours,” she spat.

The camp went deathly quiet. My vision blurred at the edges as my anger surged. For a brief moment, I felt something—something primal, something dark—stir within me.

I stepped closer to Lisa, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Do you know what the Black Rage is?”

She hesitated, but her defiance didn’t waver. “No.”

I leaned in, my gaze locked on hers. “It’s from Warhammer 40k. There’s a militia cursed with it because their leader, Sanguinius, sacrificed himself to save the galaxy. It’s a state of murderous blind rage that festers in the soul, brought out under massive stress. Your words, Lisa, are pushing me there.”

She paled but didn’t respond.

I straightened, addressing the entire camp now. “If you don’t want slayers here, you can leave. But while I’m leading this settlement, you will treat them with respect and dignity. Am I clear?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Finally, Lisa turned and stormed off, Mark and Martin trailing behind her.

As I looked back at the camp, my eyes met Sana’s. She smiled softly, a look of gratitude and understanding that made the tension in my chest ease just a little.

Scene: “The Breaking Point” (Revised Ending)

The silence was unbearable as Lisa stormed off, Mark and Martin following behind like shadows. I exhaled deeply, trying to steady my racing heart. The crowd began to disperse, though I could feel their eyes on me—some wide with awe, others wary, as if they’d seen something they couldn’t quite explain.

My knuckles ached. I looked down and realized my fists were clenched so tightly they’d gone white. Slowly, I loosened them, flexing my fingers as I willed the anger to fade.

That’s when I heard it—a whisper, faint but undeniable.

“Daigo?”

I turned to see Tsuki and Hyewon standing nearby, both looking more shaken than I’d ever seen them. Tsuki’s usual bubbly demeanor was gone, replaced by an unease that didn’t suit her. Hyewon seemed like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

The two exchanged glances before Tsuki stepped forward hesitantly. “Your eyes…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What about them?” I asked, frowning.

“They… changed,” she said. “For a second, they weren’t… normal.”

Hyewon nodded, adding softly, “And we heard something.”

“What do you mean, something?” I asked, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

“It was like… a crack,” Tsuki said, her hands gesturing as if she could grasp the sound. “Not outside. Inside you. Like something broke open.”

I stared at them, my mind racing. A part of me wanted to brush it off, to say they were imagining things. But the way they looked at me—half in awe, half in fear—told me they weren’t exaggerating.

“I don’t know what you think you saw or heard,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “But I’m fine.”

Tsuki frowned, stepping closer. “Are you? Because I don’t think anyone else could have stood up to Lisa like that. Or said what you did.”

Hyewon nodded again, her voice gaining strength. “You didn’t just talk to them, Daigo. You commanded them. It was… different.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m just tired of their crap, that’s all.”

“But it’s more than that,” Tsuki pressed. “You don’t act like the rest of us. You don’t feel like the rest of us. Even the slayers here—none of us have done what you’ve done. It’s like…” She hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Like what?” I asked, my patience wearing thin.

“Like you’re something else,” she said, meeting my eyes with a mixture of curiosity and reverence.

Hyewon nodded one last time, her expression solemn. “Something more.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. Instead, I turned and walked away, their voices echoing in my mind.

Scene: “Something More” (Expanded)

Something more.

The words lingered in my head like an echo, an itch I couldn’t scratch. As I made my way back to my quarters, exhaustion hit me like a freight train. My legs gave out beneath me, and the world went dark.

When I came to, the sterile smell of the infirmary greeted me. My body ached in ways I couldn’t describe. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, and the soft glow of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

A familiar voice pulled me back to reality. “Well, you did turn,” the nurse said, her smile a mix of wariness and curiosity.

I frowned, propping myself up on the thin cot. “I’m immune,” I replied, my voice gravelly.

The nurse raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an almost playful smirk. “Didn’t say normal,” she retorted.

She moved to the counter and grabbed a set of charts and X-rays, holding them up for me to see. “Take a look at this.”

The first X-ray showed something alien—a massive growth in my chest, a twisted knot of tissue that seemed to intertwine with every major organ. My stomach churned just looking at it.

“What the hell is that?” I asked, the unease creeping into my voice.

“That,” the nurse said, flipping to the next image, “was in your chest.”

I blinked. The second X-ray was… different. The growth was gone. In its place was something just as bizarre: a second heart, perfectly formed and sitting comfortably next to the first.

I stared at the images, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. “How?” was all I managed to say.

The nurse set the charts down and folded her arms. “When you were exposed to the necrophage virus, your body didn’t react like a normal immune person’s. Instead of fighting it off or succumbing to it, your body… evolved. It built that growth to house the virus, to contain it. And then, over time, your body started to metabolize the virus, integrating it into your cells.”

I rubbed my temples, trying to keep up. “So, what? I was a carrier?”

The nurse shook her head. “Not quite. The virus never spread from you like it would from a typical carrier. Instead, it stayed inside that structure. But yesterday, something changed. That growth cracked open. Your body finished… whatever it was doing.”

I felt a cold sweat forming. “What does that mean? Am I a slayer now?”

The nurse tilted her head, studying me like I was some rare specimen. “Honestly? I don’t know what you are,” she admitted. “But here’s what I do know: your body has fully integrated the virus into its DNA. You’ve got new cells—ones I’m calling D-cells, because, well…” She grinned. “Your name’s Daigo. Thought it was fitting.”

I rolled my eyes, but her grin didn’t falter.

“These D-cells are doing things I’ve never seen before,” she continued. “They’re healing you, regulating you, enhancing you. And that second heart? It’s not just an extra organ. It’s part of the whole system now, like your body’s leveling up in ways I can’t fully understand yet. I’ll need to do more tests, but…” She hesitated.

“But what?” I pressed.

She leaned in slightly, her tone turning serious. “Daigo, you’re not human anymore. Not entirely, anyway.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I sat there, letting them sink in.

After a moment, I swung my legs off the cot and stood up, testing my balance. My body felt… different. Stronger. Lighter, even.

The nurse watched me carefully. “Also,” she added with a sly smile, “don’t tell anyone about this. I’m the only one who knows, and honestly? I like you in charge. My boyfriend is a slayer and you make us feel welcome. Don’t want anyone getting ideas.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Just don’t go growing a third heart or sprouting wings, okay?” she teased, already jotting down notes on her clipboard.

I walked out of the infirmary, her words replaying in my mind. Not human anymore.

And yet, as unsettling as that was, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for the future.

I barely made it ten steps from the infirmary when I heard hurried footsteps behind me. I turned just as Dahyun came barreling toward me, her eyes wide and shimmering with emotion. Before I could say a word, her arms were around me, clutching me like I was about to disappear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

“For what?” I asked, startled.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her hands still gripping my jacket. “For Momo, Sana, and Mina. For bringing them in, for standing up for them. For keeping them safe.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of her gratitude. “Dahyun, they’re survivors. Of course I’m going to protect them.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No, it’s more than that. You didn’t just let them in; you defended them. You treated them like people. You don’t know how rare that is for slayers—how rare that is for us.” Her voice wavered on the last word, and I realized she was trembling.

I placed my hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “Hey, it’s okay. They’re here now. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Her grip on my jacket tightened. “You don’t understand. Do you know what it felt like to see them again? To see their faces after thinking I’d never—” She stopped, her voice catching in her throat.

I waited, giving her the space to collect herself.

“They were my family,” she continued softly. “Before all of this, before the outbreak… we were together. We were everything to each other. And then I lost them. I thought I’d never see them again.”

Her tears spilled over, but she didn’t seem to care. “And now they’re here, alive, because of you.”

I didn’t know what to say. Words felt inadequate, so I did the only thing I could think of: I pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in my chest, her sobs muffled against me.

“You’re safe now,” I said quietly. “All of you.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken between us.

When Dahyun finally pulled back, her expression had shifted. The tears were still there, but her gaze was steady, determined.

“You’re more than just a leader, Daigo,” she said. “You’re… you’re a protector. For all of us.”

I scratched the back of my neck, feeling a little uncomfortable with the intensity of her praise. “I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

She smiled, a mixture of sadness and warmth. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Before I could respond, she leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. It wasn’t romantic—it was more like a gesture of gratitude, of trust.

“Thank you,” she said again, her voice steady now. “For everything.”

Scene: “Two Heartbeats”

As Dahyun hugged me, her head pressed against my chest, I noticed her shift slightly. Her body stiffened, and she pulled back just enough to stare at me, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Wait…” she whispered, her hands pressing gently against my chest. “Daigo…”

I froze. “What is it?”

Her gaze darted to my chest, then back to my face. “I… I felt two heartbeats.”

I tried to play it off, forcing a dry chuckle. “You must be imagining things. Probably the adrenaline—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she interrupted, her tone firm, her eyes narrowing. “Daigo, I know what I felt.”

For a moment, I debated what to say. The nurse’s words about keeping it secret echoed in my mind. I let out a slow breath, keeping my voice calm but firm.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I said, lowering my voice. “Not a soul. Promise me.”

Dahyun’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “I promise. But… Daigo, what’s going on? What’s happening to you?”

I hesitated, knowing I owed her some explanation. “It’s… complicated. I’ll explain later, okay? Just trust me for now.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded slowly. “Okay. But I’m not letting this go.”

“Fair enough,” I said, offering her a faint smile to ease the tension. “Just… keep it between us.”

She nodded again, reluctantly letting the subject drop, but the concern in her eyes didn’t fade as she walked away.

Scene: “Confrontation”

Later that evening, I was back in my quarters, sprawled on my bed, trying to process everything. My body felt heavier than usual, like my own heartbeat—their rhythm—was a constant reminder that I was no longer the same.

A knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts. Before I could answer, the door creaked open, and Dahyun and Chodan stepped inside.

I sat up, my instincts telling me this wasn’t a casual visit. “What’s up?”

Chodan folded her arms, her gaze sharp. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ us, Daigo. Dahyun told me.”

I shot Dahyun a look, but she raised her hands defensively. “I didn’t tell her everything! Just… enough. We’re worried about you.”

Chodan stepped closer, her voice softer now. “She said you’ve got two heartbeats. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I sighed, knowing there was no avoiding this. “Close the door,” I said.

Dahyun obeyed, and both of them sat down on the edge of the bed, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

“I went to the infirmary earlier,” I began. “After I collapsed. The nurse ran some tests… and apparently, I’m not human anymore.”

Both of their eyes widened.

“Not human?” Dahyun echoed.

Chodan leaned forward. “Explain.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the weight of their stares. “The virus… the necrophage or whatever it’s called. It didn’t infect me like it does everyone else. My body ignored it, adapted to it instead. It built this… structure in my chest to house the virus, and eventually, it merged with me on a cellular level.”

Dahyun looked horrified. “So… you’re infected?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not like that. I’m immune, but the virus evolved inside me. It’s part of me now. My body has these new cells—D-cells, the nurse called them. They heal me, regulate me, even enhance me a little. But when that structure in my chest broke open, it triggered something… different. That’s when the second heart formed.”

Chodan whistled low, sitting back. “Damn. That’s… a lot.”

“You think?” I said dryly.

Dahyun looked at me, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“The nurse told me to keep it secret,” I admitted. “If people find out, it could cause chaos. They already look to me as a leader. If they knew I wasn’t… normal, it could go either way. They’d either worship me like some kind of savior or fear me like a monster. Neither is good for the camp.”

Chodan nodded slowly, processing. “Okay, I get it. But Daigo, you can’t keep this to yourself. If something happens—”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” I cut her off, my tone firmer than I intended. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. And for now, the fewer people who know, the better.”

Dahyun hesitated, then reached out to place a hand on mine. “We won’t tell anyone. But you have to promise us something.”

“What?” I asked.

Chodan leaned in, her tone serious. “If anything changes—if you start feeling worse, or different—you come to us. No hiding, no tough-guy act. Deal?”

I looked between them, seeing the genuine concern in their eyes. I nodded. “Deal.”

Dahyun exhaled in relief, and Chodan gave me a faint smirk. “Good. Now get some rest, Vanquisher. You’ve got a camp full of idiots to deal with tomorrow.”

I chuckled despite myself. “Thanks for the reminder.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, I hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Hey… can you two stay the night with me?”

Dahyun and Chodan both turned to me, their eyes widening in surprise. They exchanged a quick glance, silent communication passing between them, before Dahyun gave a small smile and nodded.

“Of course,” she said softly.

“Sure thing, big guy,” Chodan added, her tone teasing but warm.

I felt a small wave of relief as they started settling in. At first, there was some debate about the sleeping arrangement.

“You’re in the middle,” Chodan declared, pointing at me.

Dahyun laughed, shaking her head. “No way. If he’s in the middle, he’ll be too stiff to sleep. I’ll take the middle.”

Chodan raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” Dahyun replied, giving her a playful shove.

In the end, Dahyun ended up sandwiched between us. Somehow, it felt… right. Too right.

As we all lay there, I couldn’t help but notice the way their warmth seeped into me, calming a part of my mind that was always on high alert. Their presence, their quiet breathing, the shared comfort—it was disgusting how good it felt.

I slept better that night than I had in years.

The morning light filtered through the cracked blinds, and I woke to find Dahyun already sitting up, her hair slightly mussed as she stretched. Chodan was still sprawled out, half-asleep, but her eyes opened when she noticed me stir.

“Morning,” Dahyun said with a smile, her voice soft and pleasant.

Chodan grinned lazily, propping herself up on an elbow. “You look like you actually slept for once.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I did.”

As I sat up, I glanced between them, both looking so at ease, so… perfect in this moment. My chest tightened with something I couldn’t quite name, and before I could stop myself, the words came out.

“Okay, it’s official. I love both of you.”

The room froze. Dahyun’s cheeks turned a deep red, her lips parting in surprise. Chodan, for once, looked genuinely caught off guard, her usual confidence replaced with wide eyes and a blush creeping up her neck.

“W-What?” Dahyun stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chodan let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of her head. “Well, uh… that’s one hell of a way to start the morning.”

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life. But I pressed on, because if I didn’t say it now, I might never.

“Listen, I don’t want to hurt either of you,” I said, my voice quieter now. “But I also don’t want to be alone anymore. I… I don’t think I can handle choosing between you. I care about both of you too much.”

They both stared at me for a long moment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I couldn’t read the room.

Dahyun finally broke the silence, her voice trembling but sincere. “We… we don’t want to hurt you either, Daigo.”

Chodan nodded, her usual bravado replaced with something softer. “Yeah. We get it.”

The tension eased slightly, and I gave them a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. For understanding.”

I stood up, stretching and preparing myself for another day in the chaos outside. “Let’s just take things one step at a time, okay?”

As I headed for the door, I glanced back at them one last time. Dahyun was fiddling with the hem of her shirt, her blush still lingering, while Chodan gave me a look that was equal parts amused and thoughtful.

I stepped outside, the weight of the camp’s problems settling back onto my shoulders. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel completely alone.

The morning air was crisp, the faint hum of the camp stirring to life all around me. But the moment I stepped into the central yard, I could feel the tension in the air like a cord stretched too tight. Mark, Lisa, and Martin were waiting for me near the supply tent, their expressions carefully neutral. Too carefully neutral.

“Daigo,” Lisa greeted, her voice dripping with faux warmth. “We wanted to have a word with you about some… concerns.”

I stopped a few feet from them, crossing my arms. “Concerns about what?”

Martin stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back like some kind of self-appointed general. “Leadership. We’ve been talking, and we’re worried you might be… overburdened.”

The words were polite, but the tone was anything but.

“Overburdened,” I repeated, my eyes narrowing.

Mark, who had been quiet until now, leaned against a nearby crate, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not personal, Daigo. It’s just… you’re young. This camp needs someone with experience, someone who knows how to make the hard calls.”

I felt a flicker of something at the edge of my vision—something imperceptible to anyone else but clear as day to me. My mind was racing, processing their every movement, every twitch, every glance they cast at each other. Their words didn’t align with their bodies.

Lisa’s arms were crossed tightly, her fingers gripping her elbows like she was holding herself together. Her gaze darted between Mark and Martin when she spoke, looking for approval she didn’t fully trust she’d get.

Martin’s jaw was clenched, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if he were bracing for something. He avoided making eye contact with Mark altogether, his focus squarely on me.

Mark’s relaxed posture was an act, his fingers tapping a subtle rhythm on the crate’s edge. The tapping stopped every time Lisa spoke, only to resume when Martin chimed in.

They weren’t united. Not really.

They weren’t a team; they were a loose coalition of distrust, bound together by their mutual disdain for Slayers—and for me.

“You think I’m ill-suited for leadership,” I said, cutting through whatever diplomatic phrasing they were about to throw at me.

Lisa hesitated, her lips parting as if to argue, but Martin stepped in quickly. “We just think the camp might benefit from a more… collective approach.”

“Right,” I said slowly. “A collective approach where the three of you call the shots.”

Mark smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not saying that. We just think you’ve got a lot on your plate. You’ve been making some questionable calls, like bringing in more Slayers. It’s upsetting people.”

I tilted my head, my mind still cataloging every twitch and glance. Lisa didn’t agree with Mark’s phrasing; her lips pressed into a thin line when he spoke. Martin didn’t either—his fingers flexed briefly, like he wanted to grab Mark by the collar and shut him up.

They weren’t here for the camp. They were here for themselves.

“You know what I think?” I said, my voice calm, almost conversational.

Lisa raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“I think the three of you don’t trust each other any more than you trust me,” I said bluntly. “And the only thing keeping you from tearing each other apart is your shared desire for power.”

Their reactions were immediate, though none of them spoke. Lisa’s arms uncrossed, her hands balling into fists. Martin’s shoulders squared, and his mouth opened as if to argue, but I cut him off.

“You think because I’m younger than you, you can manipulate me. Make me doubt myself. Convince me that I’m not capable of leading this camp. But let me tell you something.”

I took a step closer, my voice low but firm.

“I’ve seen what fear and desperation do to people. I’ve seen what happens when you let ambition cloud your judgment. This camp doesn’t need more politicians. It needs people who are willing to get their hands dirty. People who put survival over ego.”

Lisa took a step back, her confidence faltering. Mark’s smirk disappeared entirely, replaced by a tight-lipped glare. Martin, for all his posturing, looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“I don’t trust you,” I said plainly. “Not because you disagree with me, but because I see through you. And if you think you can divide this camp, undermine me, or turn people against each other, let me make one thing clear: I won’t let that happen.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Are we done here?” I asked, my tone making it clear the conversation was over.

Lisa opened her mouth, then closed it, glaring at me like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Mark and Martin exchanged a glance, their earlier bravado now replaced with unease.

“Yeah,” Martin finally muttered, his voice lacking the confidence it had earlier. “We’re done.”

They turned and walked away, their uneasy silence speaking louder than any argument could have.

Lust’s voice slid into my thoughts before I even saw her.

“Brooding doesn’t suit you, Daigo.”

I turned and found her leaning against a pole, arms crossed, watching me like I was some puzzle she’d already figured out. Lust always had this effortless confidence about her, like she knew exactly where she stood and where everyone else didn’t.

“Lust,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “What do you want?”

She tilted her head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Saw you dealing with the Three Stooges over there. Figured I’d save you before your brain melted from their bullshit.”

I huffed out a faint laugh despite myself. “Thanks, but I’m good. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

She pushed off the pole and took a slow step forward, her smirk fading into something more serious. “Alright, then. Let’s cut to the chase. We need to talk about the Slayers’ place in this camp.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, but I kept my face blank. “Go on.”

She gestured around us with a sweep of her arm. “This camp is crumbling, Daigo. You can feel it, can’t you? The survivors are scared of us. Some of them outright hate us. And those three idiots you just dealt with? They’re not going to stop until they take control. They see us as a threat—something they can’t predict, something they can’t control.”

“They’re wrong,” I said firmly.

“Of course they are,” she shot back with a shrug. “But what does that matter? What matters is perception. And right now, we’re the monsters under their beds, the things keeping them up at night.”

I folded my arms, trying to keep my frustration in check. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” she said, stepping closer, “is that maybe it’s time for us to move on.”

Her words threw me off balance. “You’re suggesting the Slayers leave the camp?”

“Not all of us,” she clarified. “But yeah, most of us. Think about it, Daigo. We’re stronger, faster, harder to kill. We don’t need the same resources they do. Half of them are terrified every time we walk past. We could be more useful out there—clearing zones, securing supplies, doing what we do best—without dragging this camp deeper into its own mess.”

I clenched my jaw, my thoughts racing. She wasn’t wrong. The tension between the Slayers and the regular survivors had been growing for weeks. Still, leaving? That felt like giving up.

“And what about the people here?” I asked. “The ones who rely on us? The ones who see us as hope?”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she dropped the smirk she always wore like armor. “You think I don’t care about them? I do. But you can’t save everyone, Daigo. And if we stay here too long, we’re just going to make things worse—for them and for us.”

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I looked away, staring at the horizon as doubts churned in my mind. “And where would we go?”

“That’s the thing about Slayers, isn’t it?” she said, her voice quieter now. “We don’t belong anywhere. We carve out a place for ourselves, or we die trying.”

I let her words sink in, the weight of them pressing down on my shoulders. She wasn’t wrong, but leaving wasn’t a decision I could make lightly.

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, finally breaking the silence. “But I can’t make this decision on a whim.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said, her tone softer now. “You’re the leader. It’s your call. But think about it—for all our sakes.”

She turned to leave but paused and glanced back over her shoulder, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve got a good heart, Daigo. Even if you’ve got two of them now.”

A few days later, I woke up to chaos. Shouting, pounding on my door—it felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Still half-asleep, I fumbled for my gauntlets and boots, instinct kicking in. Before I could even ask what was happening, the door slammed open, and a tide of bodies surged into my quarters.

They were on me before I could process anything. Arms grabbed at me, forcing my weapons from my hands. I swung once, twice, but there were too many. Too many voices, too many hands pulling me down. My head was spinning, and the shouts all blurred together until they were just noise.

“Traitor.” “Unfit.” “You’ve failed us.”

I heard bits and pieces, but none of it made sense. The more I struggled, the tighter they held me, their grip like iron as they dragged me out into the open. The morning sun was too bright, and the cold bit into my skin as if punishing me for something I didn’t even understand.

I tried to speak, but no one was listening. I stumbled as they pushed me forward, my boots scraping against the ground. The gauntlets weighed heavy on my wrists, my only connection to the strength I once thought I had.

They forced me past the camp’s main gates. My camp. The place I’d fought to protect. The people I’d bled for. And now, I was being tossed out like I was nothing.

The crowd gathered, a sea of faces filled with contempt, distrust, and apathy. No one spoke for me. No one stood in my defense.

Mark stood at the front, smug as ever, his voice carrying over the noise like a judge pronouncing a sentence. “You were a fool to think you could lead this place. You were never cut out for it. Now, get out.”

I clenched my fists, the leather of my gauntlets creaking under the strain. “You think this will end well for you?” My voice sounded weak even to me, the weight of it all pressing down.

Mark just smirked. “It’s not about you anymore.”

With that, he shoved me hard, sending me stumbling into the dirt. Behind me, the gates slammed shut, the echo like a final punctuation to the betrayal.

For a moment, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My chest felt hollow, like someone had reached in and pulled out whatever kept me standing all this time. My gauntlets and boots—the only things they’d left me—felt like relics of a life I no longer belonged to.

I got to my feet eventually, numb and directionless, and started walking. Each step away from the camp felt heavier than the last. The cold air stung my face, but I didn’t bother wiping the tears that streaked my cheeks. They froze against my skin like scars.

By the time I reached my old safe house, I felt like a ghost, moving on autopilot. My motorcycle sat there, still as I’d left it, a reminder of a time when I thought I was building something good. I climbed on, gripping the handlebars, and kicked it to life.

I drove for hours, the road stretching endlessly ahead of me. California disappeared in the rearview mirror, replaced by the barren landscapes of Arizona. At a checkpoint, a guard asked for my name and my race.

“Daigo,” I said, my voice dry. “And I’m a Vanquisher.”

The guard laughed. “Well, you’re definitely not a zombie. Too funny for that.”

I forced a chuckle, but it felt hollow.

Eventually, I found myself in Colorado. The air was quiet there, too quiet. There were no zombies, no people, no purpose. Just me and my thoughts. I settled into a rhythm: work, eat, sleep. Repeat.

But the loneliness clawed at me. Nights were the worst. I’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking of Dahyun, Chodan, my ducklings. The camp. Even the ones who betrayed me. I missed them all, and the ache never went away.

Twenty-eight days passed like that. I told myself I was healing, but really, I was just surviving. Then I heard the news: a new group of slayers was moving into the area. I didn’t think much of it until I saw their vehicles rolling in.

The sight of familiar license plates made my chest tighten. I sat on my porch, sipping fruit punch, watching them unload. It was all too familiar. Too close to home.

Then I heard their voices. Two voices I’d know anywhere.

“Do you hear that?” “Yeah, it sounds like someone on this block has two hearts.”

I froze, my drink forgotten, and stood. When I saw them—Chodan and Dahyun—my heart felt like it might break all over again. They turned, and when they saw me, Chodan’s eyes welled up with tears as she rushed forward to hug me.

“Hey, big guy,” Dahyun said, her voice soft but steady.

I tried to smile, but it faltered when I saw the two men behind them. Slayers, obviously, their postures protective as they approached. My heart sank as Chodan and Dahyun introduced them—boyfriends.

I nodded, polite and distant, the ache in my chest threatening to swallow me whole. “Daigo,” I said, offering a handshake. “Just an old friend.”

They smiled, the moment slipping through my fingers like sand, and left me standing there.

As I walked back into my empty house, I felt the weight of my exile all over again. Even now, even here, I was still on the outside looking in.

[cigarettesaftersae]

homesick - 10 every breath you take

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: sae x f!reader | childhoodlovers!au

Stuck in a small town near the coast with a previous crush on a boy who returns after years

Christmas note at the bottom:p

Inside this warm and cozy cafe, off to the corner of the small town lays two pretty best friends. With soothing coffee juzz steaming up the air and flowers on the wall, “You have to, please.” Mel insists, her eyebrows flared up like Emilia Clarke as you shake up some orders. Your back turned, facing all the customers and her till you once again answer with a “No, I already told you I’m busy.”

“Oh with what? All you’re doing is dressing up for a bit. I need a model for like a second.”

“Yeah last time that happened, it wasn’t for one day.” Ever so the stubborn girl you are, staying determined with your one and only answer. It was necessary for your opposing answer which originated on past events when you last accepted with care, Mel had took you captive for about a whole day and two.

“And I’m busy with… my job, and writing and stuff.” Your brief words didn’t come out quite confident leaving a suspicious thought in Mel’s head

“Right… and what is your writing about?”

“Gothic literature, isn’t that cool?” You try and change the subject to rinse her mind of what she was trying to pull you into. Modeling for her new brands of clothes on the company she worked on, the last time you did it you found yourself on the cover of a magazine. Last time, you checked you wrote for those kinds of stuff not posed for it.

“Y/n, please, babygirl.” Her persistence was unwavering, her begging carrying a desperation that might seem excessive for something as trivial as this appointment.

“Can’t you ask someone else?” you say, tilting your head slightly. “Or maybe get one of your teammates—or a co-worker—to help you out instead. That one guy, uhh…Jude?”

“I can’t.” Mel groans in distress “We were in a meeting and they all just chose me as a recruiter because last time they seemed to like you.”

“Uhh ever heard of rejecting an offer?”

“Well you weren’t there, they just pushed it on me.”

“You’re horrible, absolutely horrible” You say with narrow eyes and an accusing pointing finger between her eyes

“And you’re lovely, that’s why they want you.” Her lips curved into a cocky smile

“So that’s a yes.”

“Nope”

Your focus remained locked on Mel’s brown eyes, so drawn in, like a black hole, that you didn’t notice Sae walking out to the front—a rare occurrence when he was working. As he handled a few orders, your attention stayed with Mel, your preoccupation earning you the unofficial title of Bad Employee of the Month.

Then something shifted. Mel’s gaze wasn’t on you anymore. It had drifted past, landing directly on Sae Itoshi.

You didn’t need to read her mind; her expression screamed it loud and clear. Still, you tried to cut it off before it started. “Uh, no.”

“Ugh—why not? Who is that hottie? Why didn’t you tell me you were working with a total babe?” Mel squealed, her excitement bubbling in her usual girly fervor. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “He even looks kind of familiar...”

“That’s Sae Itoshi,” you said, keeping your tone casual, though you already anticipated her reaction.

As expected, Mel’s jaw dropped. She froze, eyes wide and unblinking, stuck in a loop of shock.

“No way. That’s Sae Itoshi?”

“He’s going to reject. He’s kind of a dingus,” you said, shrugging.

“A dingus? Uhh, that is Sae Itoshi. Awesomely hot, insanely talented, and clearly too cool for this job,” she gushed, practically vibrating in place as she ogled him.

“Are you kidding me?” you deadpanned. “The guy’s gotten like half the orders wrong today, and I’ve been secretly fixing them. This guy order a coffee with no cream and he put two extra creams. How does that happen? He’s only good at soccer.”

Mel, entirely unfazed, sighed dreamily. “He’s even more gorgeous in person. And his lashes—ugh, they’re longer than mine. That’s just unfair.”

“Yeah, he’s also Mister Mysterious Childhood Boy,” you muttered, almost to yourself, but loud enough for Mel to catch it.

Her silence was deafening, her expression screaming realization. “Wait... Like, as in vending machine boy? That was Sae Ito—”

You slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her exclamation. “You’re so loud!” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s gonna hear you!”

Mel’s wide eyes darted between you and Sae, her excitement barely contained even through your palm.

“He’s not gonna agree to your modeling—Mel, what are you doing?” you whisper-yelled as she suddenly got up from her seat.

Without hesitation, she crossed the room, her gaze locked on Sae like a predator zeroing in on prey. You scrambled to follow her, but she was too quick. Standing across the counter from him, Mel leaned in slightly, her confidence radiating.

“Agree to my team’s model,” she said firmly, her voice carrying the kind of determination that could stun anyone. But would it be enough to sway someone like Sae Itoshi?

You caught up to her, panic bubbling up as you tugged at her arm. “Mel, stop—”

She turned to hush you with a dramatic wave of her hand, not even sparing you a glance.

“Please,” she continued, her voice softer now, almost pleading as she looked directly at Sae. “It’ll help your soccer career. Think of the exposure.”

Sae’s gaze locked onto her, sharp and assessing, as though he was scrutinizing every inch of her with an intensity that made even you uncomfortable. His expression was unreadable—cold, calculating, and completely unaffected by Mel’s enthusiasm.

“You think I need someone like you,” he began, his voice low and cutting, “to boost my career? A lousy loot like you?”

The words dripped with disdain, slicing through the air like a blade.

“It’ll magically help our dearest Y/n,” Mel insisted, her tone softening into a pleading lilt as she leaned just a bit closer.

You cut in, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Sae, you don’t have to—”

But Sae raised a hand, silencing you without so much as a glance. His attention stayed on Mel, his expression unchanged, icy and unmoving.

“What clothing?” he asked, his tone devoid of enthusiasm, as if the very question bored him.

“Calvin Klein,” Mel blurted out, her voice quick and eager, clearly hoping to sway him.

Sae’s gaze didn’t soften, nor did his expression change. “Talk to my assistant about it,” he said flatly, turning away as if the conversation was already over.

Mel turned to you, a smug grin tugging at her lips. “Huh… that was way easier than I thought. Did you notice how he started to agree after I mentioned you?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re in denial. He started to agree after you mentioned Calvin Klein.”

But Mel wasn’t done connecting dots. Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Wait—didn’t you say your co-worker took care of you when you got sick?”

“Yeah, why?” you replied with a shrug, unsure where she was going with this.

Mel’s jaw dropped slightly, her voice dropping to an excited whisper. “It was Sae!”

You stared at her, unbothered. “Yeah, so what? He was only doing it because Maria convinced him.”

“Righttt…” Mel dragged out the word, a knowing smirk creeping onto her face. “Because Maria convinced him. Totally not because he secretly cares about you or anything.”

You shot her a flat look. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows with a sly grin. “Or am I just really good at reading the signs?”

“You’re really good at being delusional,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

Mel ignored your jab, her excitement undeterred. “So… do you still want to model?”

You raised a brow. “You got Sae Itoshi on the job.”

“Yes, but we need a girl too,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You sighed heavily, the weight of her persistence finally wearing you down. “Fine,” you groaned “but you owe me lots and lots of hot chocolate with whip cream too.”

—

“I seriously can’t believe you got Sae Itoshi to model for us,” one of Mel’s coworkers gushes, her eyes practically sparkling as they linger on Sae’s striking face.

Mel smirks, adjusting her clipboard. “It actually wasn’t that hard.”

You glance at Sae, who stands just a few steps away, quiet and composed as always. Mel and her team buzz around, preparing the set.

“I thought you weren’t going to do this,” he says, his tone neutral but his teal eyes briefly meeting yours.

“Mel’s magic words,” you reply lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Do you usually model?” Sae ask after a pause.

“Once, Mel needed someone for some bra product photo shoot. Next morning, I woke up on the cover of a magazine.”

He hums in response, his gaze sweeping over the bustling set. Then, as if drawn by some invisible thread, his eyes return to yours. “You must be used to this,” you say, quieter now, almost hesitant.

For a moment, there’s silence. His eyes hold yours—steady, piercing, and unreadable. It feels as though the rest of the world has melted away. If you let your imagination run wild, you could almost believe his hand and yours were inching closer, magnetized by some unspoken force.

But then, just as quickly, he looks away, breaking the spell. You blink, jolted back to the present, and wonder what went through his mind. Sae Itoshi: so mysterious, so cold—and yet, you think, there’s something there. A flicker of something only you seem to notice.

“Alright, the set’s all ready. You two good to go?” Mel strides over, clipboard in hand, her tone brisk.

You nod, stealing a glance at Sae. He pinches the skin on his left thumb, a small, almost imperceptible gesture.

Was he nervous? No, that couldn’t be it. Sae Itoshi doesn’t get nervous. Maybe it was a habit, or perhaps a ritual for luck. Either way, the action felt oddly human, peeling back another layer of the enigma before you.

Ever so mysterious, you think, ever so unreachable. And yet, here he was, standing right next to you.

“First up is you,” Mel says with a smile, her tone cheerful but commanding as her eyes land on you.

Your stomach drops, and you feel the weight of regret settle over you. Why had you agreed to this again? You swallow hard, forcing a weak smile in return.

“You’ll be introducing a new product my team and I developed,” Mel explains, her clipboard held tight against her chest. “It’s a casual pair of baggy jeans—super trendy right now. And…” She pauses for dramatic effect. “You’ll also be introducing a bra product.”

“Again?” you groan, your voice dripping with exasperation.

Mel smirks knowingly. “You have to do it. We used your exact measurements to model this bra. You just have the greatest boobs”

“Excuse me?” Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your cheeks.

Before you can argue further, Mel spins you around and gives you a gentle shove toward the set. “Go on,” she says, her voice leaving no room for negotiation.

Still reeling, you reluctantly take your position. Behind you, Mel turns to Sae, her professional demeanor returning.

“And you,” she says briskly, “my teammate will explain your job.”

Sae’s icy gaze shifts to her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he doesn’t move, as though considering whether to comply. Then, without a word, he walks off toward the team member, his posture confident and detached, like he’s done this a hundred times before.

Mel watches him go, her smirk softening into a satisfied smile. “Always so compliant when he wants to be,” she murmurs, mostly to herself.

You glance back at Sae, watching as he listens to instructions with his usual calm intensity. Even from this distance, there’s something about his presence that feels larger than life—aloof, yet magnetic.

“Focus!” Mel’s voice cuts through your thoughts, snapping you back to your own task. You sigh, adjusting the fit of the jeans as the camera crew begins to circle. “Okay okay..” you mumble with a pout.

The shoot finally began, a flurry of activity surrounding you as the crew adjusted your outfit, tended to your makeup, and ensured every detail was perfect. Under the lights, you posed modestly, doing your best to follow their instructions.

Once your turn was over and you stepped off the spotlight, you made your way back to Mel, a warning already on your lips. “You better not use those for any covers,” you said, narrowing your eyes at her.

Mel held up her hands defensively, though her grin was anything but innocent. “I told you, we’re sending these to our manager. He decides if they’re good enough.”

She paused, then added with a mischievous glint in her eye, “He just seems to really like your pictures... and I’m sure Sae will too.

Mel punctuated her tease by wiggling her eyebrows dramatically.

“That’s… a no,” you replied flatly, crossing your arms.

“Oh, come on,” Mel whined, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea.

“Come on what?

“It’s obvious,” she said, as if the answer were written in neon lights above your head.

“No, it’s not. And I barely have time for… all that,” you countered, waving a hand dismissively.

“You can’t just push it away,” Mel pressed, her tone edging toward exasperation.

“Watch me,” you shot back with a bit of sarcasm, turning on your heel with a pointed glare.

Sae takes up the stage as if the stage was made for him, besides his unbelievable soccer talents he butchered flawless beauty like no other. Leading all eyes on him, finding it hard to pass by him since anyone even maybe you wanted to just stay right where he was. “Hey” the voice capturing you, shocking you into reality, looking up you see Jude, Mel’s very handsome co-worker you might add “oh, hey” you wave a smile “I’m glad you came back here to help us. It’s a great pleasure” His smile grinned and shined his pearly white teeth, his bold lips, and arch on his nose completing his looks. “It’s my pleasure” Your gaze drifted back to the red hair ahead. Jude caught the shift “Heard Mel and you recruited him, how’d you do it?”

“It was mostly Mel actually.”

“Mel said the same thing but instead you did most of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing full well it was exactly the kind of thing Mel would say. Before you could respond, the shoot wrapped up, and Sae stepped out of the spotlight.

It wasn’t the sight of him leaving that caught your attention—it was the fact that he was walking straight toward you. Your breath hitched as he got closer. The faint yet rich scent of his cologne reached you first: a blend of woody tones with something warm, almost soothing, like the ocean at sunset. It overpowered your thoughts, lingering more than the presence of Jude standing right next to you. Sae stopped just short of you, his voice calm and unhurried. “I’m heading to Maria’s. Did you want to come?” The question floored you. Of all the things Sae Itoshi could say, this was not one you—or anyone else in their right mind—would have expected. “Oh…well I promised I was going to hang out with Mel. I’ve been really busy lately and she just got back in town.” His expression remains the same, but you notice maybe…a pout on his lips? Maybe you’re imagining things, yeah.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there with a strange knot of guilt and confusion in your chest.

“Well, I’m gonna get going,” you said to Jude, barely meeting his gaze before taking off. “Got a whole day ahead.”

You hurried away, only to bump straight into Mel, who grabbed your shoulders dramatically.

“What was that?” she asked, her tone laced with incredulity.

“What was what?” you replied, feigning innocence.

“That, he was basically asking you, ‘come with me baby,’ like a Jake and Rose” Mel even re-acts the scenes from the Titanic, hugging out her arms towards you

“Uh, he definitely did, in his Sae Itoshi way,” she insisted, wagging a finger at you. “Also, is Jude still trying to hit on you?”

“Hit on me?” you repeated, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah, girl. He’s into you,” Mel said with a knowing nod.

You shrugged it off with a laugh. “I’m not into anyone, so good luck to anyone out there.”

.

.

.

extra

On a Monday afternoon, Sae sat across from you, as he did every week for your usual Monday lunch. This week, however, the air carried a faint buzz of holiday cheer—it was Christmas week, a time for joy, presents, and festive cheer. None of which seemed to affect Sae’s ever-aloof expression.

In front of you sat a half-empty cup of coffee, its warmth still rising in faint wisps, while Sae quietly worked his way through a simple meal of rice and salted kelp.

Without a word, you reached into your bag and placed a small, wrapped box on the table, carefully sliding it toward him. It was neatly tied with a red bow, and the sight of it felt slightly out of place next to his no-nonsense demeanor.

“I got you a present,” you said, your tone casual but with a hint of nervousness as you tried to gauge his reaction. “You can open it right now.” You smile, and he looks at you then back at the box. His slender fingers unfolding the bow and lifting the top finding a mini plushie of himself inside and laying beside his mini version is a note. “You can read the note later” You rush before he opens it.

“It’s me” He says lifting up his plushie. “With a small star on your head” You giggle softly

“Here” Sae slides over a box and you gasp “No Way, a present from the Sae Itoshi.”

“Just open it” He looks out to the window. With a peek inside, you see a bit of fur, it’s soft and cute. A cat plushie, which you discussed with him when you were sick. “Are you Santa?”

“Only if you like stupid stuff like that” Sae remarks, watching as you gleam at the present he brought.

With a wave of goodbye, you two separate away into the snow and Sae heads off to his black gleaming car. Sitting inside on his passenger sit was your present. He gently opens your note card, being greeted with an tongue out :p emoji, “Merry Christmas Sae, I hope you like the present and for next year that you smile more often rather than being a grumpy grinch. You have nice dimples.” love, y/n

[royaltea000]

I’ve never felt so conflicted about a franchise in my life but at least this dude was hot

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Kinda obsessed with charles and lilandra dating across the galaxy like i fear lilandra really is His Girlfriend From Canada yk what i mean

[beellabee3]

I went to comic con as N and won a cosplay contest :3 [2/2]

<<< PREVIOUS PAGE

[zellkabellk]

I finally beat Shadow of the Erdtree's final boss.... it was hard but going slowly day by day helped learn most of the patterns (and survive the ones I still didn't get completely) ;;;;;;;; TIS DONE

[afniel]

Realizing that I went and wrote a bunch of intentionally aro relationships and my partner was like, "Idk, it seemed like normal relationships to me," and I was like, "I mean yeah it's not that different from ours, I guess, I was kind of going for 45° off from 'normal' romance," and they're like, "Okay, but ours is also pretty much like that," and I'm like, "Yeah, true," and now I'm like, damn hold up, are we both some kinda arospec and THIS is how we figure it out? Because I wrote a long-ass fic about intentionally queer-coded (among other things) robots? Life is weird, man.

Like I've been prone to extreme long-term crushes on a very few (mostly unattainable) people over the years, but I wouldn't have known what to do with them even if they worked out, and cough my ex was not even one of them. I just kind of assumed I was failing to feel a thing I was totally supposed to feel, there, and quite a lot of that relationship emotionally was me going, "Okay, I care like This, but I think I'm supposed to care like That? I'm pretty sure he cares That way. I'm not sure I do, but I mean, there's really only one way*, so maybe I'm just misreading this and actually I do care like That, I'm just bad at it."

*This was me being very incorrect, it turns out. There's all kinds of ways to love someone. It's a very inadequate and nonspecific word.

When I confessed my feelings (which I'd been sitting on for a year) to my partner, their reaction wasn't to be particularly romantic about it. In fact they told me they'd help me move to California if I wanted to. And after I got over my initial confusion of being kissed on the forehead (which is also not super romantic as a gesture and I couldn't decide how to even read that so I kinda skipped over even trying for a while), I was thinking, Awesome, that is a yes. They have promised to assist me with difficult stuff, and said nothing at all about emotions, because that's not a big deal anyway. The important thing is that I can rely on them and vice versa. Cool. We are basically together forever now. Which ended up being true. I just never moved out and now it's like 13 years later, go figure. But that's not what I think actually passes for reciprocating feelings for most people? Worked great for me though.

Anyway I feel like I have accidentally learned something about myself, lol. I guess romance is okay I guess, like it's not repulsive, but seriously, it's WAY more satisfying to me to guess someone else's Quiplash answer because you know they know you would think it's fucking funny, and you do, and because you think it's funny and you're well aware they know your type of humor and you know theirs and that you wouldn't expect them to use "cum" as an answer because that's not usually how they roll, so of course that is the only answer they can possibly give, which is instantly evident to both of you with no conversation whatsoever on the topic. When you got just one brain cell and it's quantum entangled with their just one brain cell so you have a lot of null discussions where nobody has to say anything but it's fully understood anyway, that's The Dream, if you ask me. And like I don't really think that's romantic by the usual definition. You can have that with friends and family, too. But that is what it turns out I prioritize in relationships, which I'm starting to feel like isn't what the majority of people are here for?

TFW it's hard to tell because I've been assuming I'm totally alloromantic so everything I experience must be typical totally alloromantic stuff too, but I'm starting to think it isn't maybe? But how do I even tell, this is like being colorblind, lmao.

[loveydive]

okay. finished veilguard. um. it sure was definitely a game.

[linagram]

[ 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝-𝚝𝟸 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊 #𝟶𝟸] 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕

THE SECOND TRIAL IS OFFICIALLY OVER. YIPPEEEEEEEEE 🎉🎉🎉 i was about to type "are we ready to see them suffer even more" but ykw. ykw. some characters actually are going to get better :) and some relationship dynamics are going to become a bit more wholesome. some other ones though...

Hinode: So, Miki-san, are you ready to start?

Miki: ...

Hinode: If you want, I can do the talking instead.

Miki: .. N-no, I'm fine. I don't want you to waste your energy on this, so..

Hinode: Haha, you're too kind. 

Miki: I just.. I don't get it. Why did they choose you as a guard? It's too hard for you to even walk and they're making you go through all of this..

Miki: A-ah, it's not like I'm saying you're weak or a burden or anything like that-

Hinode: Well, Eiji-san's arms and legs are covered in bandages and he's in a constant pain, but he still was forced to become a guard, so..

Hinode: It looks like they don't really care about things like that.

Hinode: I'm fine, Miki-san, trust me. Please don't worry about me, okay?

Miki: .. O-okay.

Miki: S-so, the second trial has ended and all prisoners know what verdicts they got this time.

Hinode: I imagine not all of them were satisfied with the result.

Miki: .. Yeah. Definitely. 

Miki: So, um, let's start with the first prisoner, I guess.

Miki: Prisoner 001, Miyagawa Akio. 

Miki: If we voted him guilty, even though Eiji-san is not able to do the punishing himself right now, we'd still have to do something to him and..

Miki: Considering his condition, that would simply kill him. 

Hinode: Also, from what I've heard, his accomplice really was responsible for most of the work. 

Hinode: I agree, it does sound like him just trying to shift the blame, but also.. 

Hinode: For some reason, I believe him. 

Miki: *nods* S-so, he was voted innocent this time.

Miki: Um, Hinode-san, if it's okay.. Remember those questions you made everyone answer?

Hinode: Right. You want to know everyone's answers?

Miki: Y-yes, please. If you don't mind, of course.

Hinode: I have all of the papers with me. Let's see..

Hinode: I can tell by Akio-san's handwriting just how hard it was for him to write. He really was in pain.

Hinode: He talks a lot about his accomplice here. He really misses him a lot, haha..

Hinode: Sorry, that was a bad joke.

Miki: No, no, I.. think he really does miss him.

Hinode: According to Akio-san's answers, his accomplice was responsible for most of the "dirty work" related to their murder. He was the one who did the "physical" aspect of it, but Akio-san was the one who came up with everything.

Miki: H-he admitted it himself?..

Hinode: Yes. I guess this is what happens when someone's in so much pain: they start telling the truth without even noticing it.

Miki: So.. For some reason, Milgram saw Miyagawa-san as the actual murderer?

Hinode: I think it's because, again, he was the one who planned everything. Also, it was his wish to see Chise-san dead that motivated him to murder the boy. If it wasn't for that, it's possible that Chise-san would still be alive.

Hinode: .. I have my doubts though.

Miki: Hm? About what exactly?

Hinode: About Chise-san still being alive. I think it's possible that someone else would've still killed him even if it wasn't for Akio-san.

Miki: .. You're talking about Miyagawa-san's accomplice, aren't you?

Hinode: Yes. I think he would've still tried to kill him even if Akio-san refused to do it himself or join him. 

Miki: May I ask why you think so?

Hinode: You can read Akio-san's answers later, if you want. 

Hinode: I wonder how he reacted to hearing about his verdict.

Miki: He looked shocked at first, but then he sighed loudly and actually looked relieved for a moment. Before I told him that he was forgiven, he was.. shaking. It's like..

Miki: It's like he thought that we're going to punish him again.

Hinode: Haha, well, it's good to hear that he's happy about his verdict. 

Hinode: I hope his condition gets better too. I hate seeing people in pain.

Miki: "Hinode-san sounds like a very nice person.. Maybe he will go easy on the guilty prisoners?"

Miki: "Actually.. I'm still not sure who exactly should punish the guilty prisoners this time."

Miki: "It used to be Eiji-san's job, but.."

Miki: "Never mind."

Miki: N-now.. Prisoner 002, Hanasaki Aimi.

Miki: Even though Eiji-san and some prisoners found her relationship with Miyagawa-san suspicious..

Miki: And her second video was darker and scarier than the first one..

Miki: We still voted her innocent.

Hinode: She had to go through so much, I can't imagine how she would react to getting voted guilty right after she found people that she thought she can trust.

Hinode: I can't help but feel sorry for her. Her problems just feel so.. 

Hinode: .. I just know a person who had to go through a similar thing, haha.

Miki: ".. Is he talking about his brother?"

Miki: Also, even though we still don't know some details of her murder, now we can say for certain that the murder took place at the amusement park that Hanasaki-san's family owned and Hanasaki-san had an accomplice.

Hinode: And her accomplice was..

Miki: .. I think it was her older brother.

Miki: It wouldn't make sense for a classmate or someone else to help her. It also took place at her family's amusement park and of course, a family member would know at least something about how it works. I doubt it would be a parent or a grandparent, so..

Hinode: Also remember what she said during that one interrogation?

Hinode: "Oh well, he's dead anyway".

Hinode: So, her accomplice is definitely a man and.. he's also dead.

Hinode: And her video even shows her killing her accomplice in the end.

Miki: .. So, Hanasaki-san is at least partially responsible for killing her classmates and she also killed her accomplice with her own hands..

Miki: And that accomplice was her own older brother..

Miki: S-she has a reason for doing that, right, Hinode-san? I mean, she has to!..

Miki: If she doesn't-

Hinode: That means you won't be able to forgive her?

Miki: .. I don't know. I-I don't want to think about it.

Miki: It's just.. I can understand why she would want to kill her classmates. I really do feel sorry for her. But her own brother?..

Hinode: Actually, judging from what she wrote here, her relationship with her brother was.. a bit strange.

Miki: Really? But I thought they were close..

Hinode: Oh, Miki-san, being close with someone doesn't always mean you have a perfect and healthy relationship with that person.

Hinode: A-anyway, how did she react to her verdict?

Miki: .. She smiled and ran to give me a hug and said that she knew I will forgive her this time as well. 

Miki: "Because we're friends, after all"..

Miki: .. Prisoner 003, Ishizu Shun.

Miki: He looked like he really wanted to attack Eiji-san and even enjoyed seeing him terrified. And his video showed him killing his victim..

Miki: W-well, victims. 

Hinode: Even someone like you couldn't forgive him this time, huh?

Miki: .. I don't want him to try to attack Eiji-san when he comes back. 

Miki: And.. I just thought that my forgiveness won't save him this time.

Hinode: So, let's see..

Hinode: He claimed that he only killed his ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend, correct? 

Hinode: But his video clearly showed him killing both his ex and her boyfriend. 

Hinode: Do you think he knows she's dead as well and he's just in denial or lying or he genuinely doesn't remember killing her?

Miki: .. I feel like he doesn't remember killing her and whenever he does remember it, he just tries to deny it.

Miki: When Eiji-san asked him if she's still alive, he refused to answer and just stared blankly at us and asked which girlfriend he's talking about.

Hinode: Speaking of Shun-san having multiple girlfriends.. What can you say about that?

Miki: Um, I don't know much about that topic..

Miki: But I guess they weren't real?

Miki: Judging from his video, it looked like Ishizu-san used video games and other things as something that could help him escape from his real life problems.

Miki: And because of his mental health issues, he wasn't able to tell which one is fiction and which one is reality and started to believe the connections and relationships he formed in those games were real.

Hinode: .. *laughs*

Hinode: Oh, sorry, sorry. It's just..

Hinode: You know, there could've been some kind of twist, like, imagine him actually having so many girlfriends and not remembering him killing them..

Hinode: But no, he was just being delusional.

Hinode: I guess we expected too much from him.

Hinode: But I wonder just how he met that girl. To be honest, I feel like they weren't in any kind of relationship and he just made that all up and started to think that his fantasies are actually real.

Miki: .. You're saying he started to stalk a random girl and believed that she's actually his ex-girlfriend?

Hinode: It's possible.

Miki: ...

Miki: "W-why do I feel so disgusted whenever I think about Ishizu-san?"

Miki: So, when I told him about his verdict..

Miki: H-he didn't take it well.

Miki: He started panicking and mumbling something about it not making any sense and..

Miki: He tried to attack me, haha..

Miki: But he still wasn't able to touch me, so.. I'm okay.

Miki: "I still don't understand why the prisoners can touch Eiji-san, but they can't touch me.."

Hinode: Hmm..

Hinode: It looks like we've made the right decision, but this guy will definitely cause us a lot of trouble.

Miki: Right..

Miki: Prisoner 004, Chiba Naomi.

Hinode: She was a hard one.

Miki: May I ask why you voted her guilty, Hinode-san? I thought you'd sympathize with her..

Hinode: Well, you see..

Hinode: I hate seeing people in pain, I really do. And I don't want Naomi-san to end up in even more pain. However..

Hinode: First of all, her victim was a child. A ten year old. Who knows how long his life could've been if it wasn't for her.

Hinode: And second of all, her motive. Didn't she reveal that her killing that child was her "fighting for independence"?

Hinode:*laughs* God, this sounds so weird. 

Hinode: She just got tired of that kid and got mad at him for calling her out. 

Hinode: Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that kids can't be.. "evil", but so far I haven't seen any serious threats in her videos. It was just him laughing at her and "bullying" her in a way.

Hinode: But isn't she 30 years old? She's a teacher. She should be able to handle this. It's almost like she got so used to all of her students being so nice and polite, she completely forgot that kids can be annoying.

Hinode: And.. I think adults like that deserve to be punished.

Miki: .. Maybe you're right.

Hinode: Also, I read her answers and she seems to really dislike Asahi-san. Just what is her deal with kids..

Miki: .. C-can I also read that later?

Hinode: Sure. 

Miki: "Why do I feel happy that I agreed to vote her guilty now?"

Hinode: By the way, how did she react to her verdict?

Miki: .. She wasn't happy about it.

Miki: It took her a moment to realize what happened and then she just started laughing uncontrollably. And then she sighed, looked at me and said..

Miki: "Well, you're the guard. Who am I to say that your decisions don't make any sense?"

Hinode: Doesn't sound like something a prisoner who truly wanted to be voted guilty would say.

Hinode: Who knows, maybe she was pretending to be nicer than she really is.

Miki: I feel like it's more complicated than that.. 

Miki: "It's like Chiba-san really does think she's guilty, but deep inside she wants someone to say that they forgive her.."

Miki: Prisoner 005, Sanada Kei.

Miki: .. Watching his video was.. hard.

Hinode: And painful.

Hinode: Just what did those women do to him?

Miki: .. I think it's related to those scars Eiji-san had mentioned.

Hinode: .. But why would they do that to him?

Miki: There was this moment in the video, when one of the women found some of the photographs made by Kei-san and she looked.. disgusted.

Miki: Maybe you already know about.. uh.. Kei-san's job.

Hinode: I do. You think she found those particular photos?

Miki: .. I think so.

Hinode: I find it interesting that Kei-san got so scared. I thought a person with a job like that would be more careful and would have a plan in case something like that happens.

Hinode: Maybe he believed that he would never get caught?

Miki: I'm just trying to understand..

Miki: Did those women try to.. 

Miki: Attack him, maybe? Did they think that he was going to do the same to them and that's why he invited them?

Hinode: But hey, why else would he invite them? 

Miki: W-well..

Miki: ...

Miki: Actually, you're right. Why did he invite them to his house?

Miki: He had so many photographs of those women and it looked like he had some kind of plan..

Hinode: .. Perhaps he was already thinking of murdering them?

Miki: B-but why would he do that?! What did those women even do to him? I mean, before attacking him and all..

Hinode: From what I remember, those women also appeared in his first video and if I'm not wrong, they were dating his friends.

Hinode: Maybe.. something happened between him and his friends? 

Miki: .. I feel like I might have an idea.

Hinode: Really? Please share.

Miki: I-I'm not so sure right now and I need more time to figure this out, but..

Miki: Kei-san's.. "partner" played a big part in his second video. And he also appeared in the first one too.

Miki: I have a feeling that it's not just because he's important to Kei-san, but it's also because he played an important role in Kei-san's crime as well.

Miki: Some lyrics of his song were also.. strange..

Miki: "Do I wanna be seen as strong? Do I wanna be seen as weak? I don't know, but just hug me already".

Miki: Or "Maybe I should accept that this world won't accept me".

Miki: Just what could those lyrics possibly mean?..

Miki: Oh, and when I told him about his verdict, he got really surprised and when I confirmed that it's true and he was forgiven, he laughed and asked..

Miki: "Just how does the guards' thought process work?"

Miki: H-he probably asked that because of us voting him guilty that last time. He looked happy, though he asked me about Eiji-san's condition.. 

Miki: And I couldn't give him an answer.

Miki: Prisoner 006, Yoshioka Eiko.

Miki: .. Both of us agreed that she should be voted guilty. 

Miki: She's a bad influence for both Ishizu-san and Kei-san and she also doesn't feel any remorse for what she did.

Miki: I feel a bit.. sorry for her though. 

Miki: I mean.. What if her victim really wasn't a good boyfriend-

Hinode: Does that mean he deserved to die?

Miki: N-no! No, of course not!

Miki: But.. I don't know. I can't say that Yoshioka-san is a bad person, but she clearly treats some of her fellow prisoners horribly.

Miki: And she doesn't feel any regret and thinks it's completely okay to do those things.

Miki: And also.. Her reaction to Kei-san hurting Eiji-san worries me.

Miki: She said that if anything happens, Eiji-san should tell her.

Hinode: .. Hey, wasn't it Yurika-san who broke Eiji-san's arm?

Miki: *nods*

Miki: .. Oh no.

Hinode: I think we should keep an eye on both of them, just in case.

Miki: When I told her about her verdict, she just rolled her eyes and said:

Miki: "Don't know what you saw in that video, but I guess it's understandable". 

Hinode: .. At least she's chill when it comes to that.

Miki: She did ask me about Eiji-san and her eyes looked a little bit darker than usual, so.. 

Miki: M-maybe restraining her a bit wouldn't hurt.

Miki: Prisoner 007, Yano Asahi.

Miki: We decided to vote him innocent.

Miki: He.. he didn't look so well when me and Eiji-san interrogated him last time.

Miki: I don't know if he would be able to calm down if it wasn't for me. 

Miki: Ah, it's not like I'm bragging or anything-

Hinode: No, no, you should be proud of yourself. You've calmed him down and comforted him when he needed it. You did a good job.

Miki: .. Ehehe~

Miki: His video was.. one of the hardest ones to watch.

Hinode: It clearly showed him as not the best person and he was more than okay with taking advantage of his adoptive mother's money. 

Hinode: However, we should also remember that these videos are not only showing us the prisoners' extracted memories, but also their thoughts and we can see everything in the way the prisoners themselves saw their crimes.

Hinode: Do you think it's possible that Asahi-san feels guilty for his murder and the way he treated his adoptive mother?

Miki: .. I think it is. I doubt he would have reacted in the same way if he didn't feel anything. He was panicking, he refused to talk about it and he clearly looked traumatized. If he didn't feel bad about his murder, he wouldn't show any of those emotions.

Hinode: It's almost like you're speaking from experience, Miki-san. 

Miki: .. W-what do you mean by-

Hinode: Or maybe you just understand children really well, haha.

Miki: .. Ahem.

Miki: And also.. he tries really hard to forget about what happened.

Miki: He never calls her his mother, only "that woman", not only because he doesn't see her as his mother, but also because it's almost like he's trying to push those memories away. 

Miki: She's not his victim or anything, she's just.. "that woman".

Miki: "And also.."

Miki: ".. I can't believe I had to see him again while I was watching Marito's video."

Miki: "I almost broke the screen when I saw him, haha.."

Hinode: Miki-san, is everything alright? You look.. pale.

Miki: I-I'm fine, I'm fine.

Miki: .. Hm, come to think of it..

Miki: I'm not sure if you know about it, Hinode-san, but Asahi-san used to have..

Miki: Um.. An "imaginary friend" based on his mother. Or maybe his "idea" of a perfect mother.

Miki: And I've just realized that he kinda.. stopped talking to her or about her.

Miki: Maybe something happened-

Hinode: Maybe it's because he has you now?

Miki: .. Huh?

Hinode: O-oh, don't get me wrong! I don't mean it in a "he sees you as a mother figure" way.

Hinode: I mean it in more of a "he's not alone anymore" way.

Miki: .. Oh.

Miki: .. When I told him about his verdict, he looked really happy.

Miki: He even ran to hug me and thanked me, haha.

Miki: ".. I wonder if he will remember who I am one day. But I don't want to tell him yet, I'm afraid I will make him remember we had to go through.."

Miki: Prisoner 008, Maruyama Yurika.

Miki: .. Guilty. She's guilty.

Hinode: She broke Eiji-san's arm, threatened to start hurting the other prisoners, is definitely capable of doing that, considering that she had attacked Asahi-san in the past and almost attacked Kei-san and her video was.. 

Hinode: Even worse than Kei-san and Asahi-san's videos combined.

Miki: But I still don't understand anything. I still don't know how her crime went and we're supposed to judge them based on their crimes!..

Hinode: Not necessarily. We can judge them based on anything. 

Hinode: And her being dangerous for us and other prisoners is most certainly a valid reason to vote her guilty.

Hinode: As for her video..

Hinode: I wonder just what kind of job she did while working at a maid cafe.

Hinode: It definitely doesn't seem legal.

Miki: If she has experience with torturing people and kidnapping them..

Miki: .. Huh.

Miki: T-there's this scene in her video where Maruyama-san and her.. manager, I assume, are filling everyone's buckets with some kind of liquid. And she says that "Everyone has their own needs and it's our job to satisfy them".

Miki: I think we should think about that scene more to understand what kind of job she had.

Miki: And I feel like her crime is related to her job too..

Miki: Ah, but that's just my opinion though-

Hinode: You know you sound like a real detective right now? *laughs*

Hinode: Seriously, Miki-san, you're really smart. Sorry for just sitting and listening to you like this, but I really am impressed.

Miki: .. Haha..

Hinode: W-why is your face becoming so red-

Miki: A-anyway, just as I've expected, she got mad at me when I told her about her verdict.

Hinode: Did she try to-

Miki: Yes, she tried to attack me just like Ishizu-san, but I just knocked her out. It's fine.

Hinode: .. Knocked her out?..

Hinode: Miki-san, you're stronger than I thought..

Hinode: .. We will definitely have to restrain her, huh..

Miki: Prisoner 009, Kuroki Riku.

Miki: .. Hinode-san-

Hinode: Yes, this is my brother. Yes.

Miki: .. I'm sorry. 

Hinode: It's fine. I voted him guilty myself.

Miki: B-but why?! Why would you vote your own brother guilty? Do you want to see him in pain?!

Hinode: It's because I know everything about his crime, Miki-san.

Miki: !

Hinode: When everyone started talking about Yue-kun's death, I knew that Riku had something to do with it.

Hinode: Riku told everyone just how much he loved Yue-kun, but he was honest with me and even when he didn't say anything, I could see in his eyes just how much he hated that guy.

Hinode: He wanted him dead, Miki-san. And he would do anything to achieve his goal. 

Miki: .. But why didn't you stop him?

Hinode: .. When even waking up is too physically painful for you, you don't have enough time and energy to talk your brother out of murdering his best friend.

Miki: .. May I ask what was your first thought after you found out about Shiozaki-san's death?

Hinode: I just turned to Riku, who was watching TV with me and quietly asked him if it was him.

Miki: And what did he do?

Hinode: He smiled and left the room.

Hinode: Listen, I don't want to see him in pain. I don't want to hurt him. But I want Riku to understand that even though he really was a victim in a way.. 

Hinode: Murder isn't an answer.At least it definitely wasn't the right answer for him.

Hinode: He really could've just talked to Yue-kun. Maybe Yue-kun wouldn't like it, but at least Riku could say that he tried.

Hinode: But instead he decided to abuse his popularity and turn all of his classmates into loyal dogs that followed his every move and listened to his every command. 

Miki: So what you're saying is..

Hinode: Yes, Miki-san. Riku made his entire class and possibly other students bully Yue-kun into committing suicide.

Miki: .. B-but do you think his death really was-

Hinode: I doubt it. Especially considering the way Riku's first video ends.

Miki: .. When I told him about his verdict..

Miki: .. He just asked me to bring him some hair dye later.

Miki: He said he wants to dye his hair black before he gets punished, haha..

Hinode: Are you planning on doing that?

Miki: O-of course! Even if we voted him guilty, I still want to fulfill his request before..

Miki: Well.. you know.

Miki: And finally.. 

Miki: Prisoner 010, Himura Reina. 

Miki: .. We voted her innocent. Again. 

Hinode: She didn't like that, did she?

Miki: She has to accept that it's the only way she can be saved. I don't think Himura-san deserves to be punished. 

Miki: If Himura-san can accept that she deserves to be forgiven.. I think everything will get better for her after that. 

Hinode: We never see her killing someone directly. It's always her witnessing a murder or hiding the body.. 

Hinode: No matter how much she tries to portray herself as guilty, her videos can't lie. 

Miki: And.. Now we know that her "victim" was her little brother. 

Miki: But I still don't understand what happened to him. If Himura-san is somehow responsible for his death, but she's not the murderer, then.. 

Miki: Who is? 

Hinode: Maybe his death was an accident, but it could've been prevented if Himura-san was there? 

Miki: If that's the case.. 

Miki: ... 

Miki: "I wanted to say that she doesn't deserve to be here, but also.."

Miki: "Marito running away was an accident too. I didn't mean for that to happen."

Miki: "So if we're guilty of doing almost the same thing.."

Hinode: Hey, Miki-san.

Hinode: When you say that she doesn't deserve to be punished, does that mean you think that somebody else in this prison deserves to be punished?

Miki:... 

Miki: I-it's okay. 

Miki: When Eiji-san was punishing them, he was.. I have to say that he was really cruel for no reason. 

Miki: I really do respect Eiji-san, but he punished them not to save them, but to torture them. 

Miki: But when I punish them.. I do it because I love everyone here. 

Miki: Uh, even Maruyama-san. 

Miki: I really do want to save them. I want them to get better. 

Miki: So if punishing them will help them understand that they've done something wrong and they will try to change for the better..

Miki: I don't see any problem with it.

Hinode: .. Heh. I see. 

Hinode: It's actually a good thing though because I was worried that you might not like the new punishment method.

Miki: .. The new punishment method?

Hinode: Well, since it used to be Eiji-san's job, now we're the ones who have to punish the guilty prisoners, right?

Miki: B-but what about you not wanting to-

Hinode: I hate seeing people in pain, Miki-san.

Hinode: I hate seeing them in physical pain.

Hinode: I feel like punishing everyone physically is just so.. tasteless. Everyone can cry and suffer if you hurt them too badly, what's so special about it?

Hinode: I've spent my whole life in pain like that. I know what it's like and I hate it when it's used as a punishment.

Hinode: But this method isn't about the physical pain. It's more about..

Hinode: Here. Do you see this little thing?

Miki: It looks like some kind of.. remote, maybe? It's pretty small though..

Hinode: Yes, you're supposed to keep it in your pocket actually. Make sure to always have it on you. 

Miki: But what does it do?

Hinode: Well, you need everyone's memories to see their videos, right? Otherwise their videos simply can't be created.

Hinode: And this thing.. 

Hinode: This thing extracts everyone's memories, but doesn't turn them into videos or whatever. It simply keeps them inside.

Hinode: You can also give those memories back if you so desire.

Miki: ...

Hinode: I know, this might sound strange, Miki-san, but considering that we have a whole music video machine, this shouldn't be surprising.

Miki: .. And.. Why exactly do we need this machine? What are we going to use it for?

Hinode: I have one with me as well. There's two of them. 

Hinode: So, uh.. You see, Miki-san.. *laughs*

Hinode: I was planning to kind of.. play with the guilty prisoners' memories a little bit.

Miki: !

Hinode: For example, maybe we can take the memories of their childhood and see what kind of people they would become without them. Maybe we can take the memories of their murder and see how they would act. 

Hinode: We can't actually watch the memories we've taken from them though, which is a shame.

Miki: .. And.. How will they-

Hinode: Ah, the physical side effects may be.. 

Hinode: *takes a breath* Dissociation, dizziness, headache, anxiety, depression, nausea, mood swings, even bigger memory loss in the process..

Hinode: But at least it's not cutting their fingers off or beating them up, right?

Miki: .. Can't we come up with a better punishment?

Hinode: But I thought you wanted to save everyone, Miki-san.

Hinode: It's not going to hurt. They're not going to feel any pain. They're just gonna forget some things, actually, it might make them happier.

Hinode: And if anything goes wrong, we can just give those memories back to them.

Miki: .. A weird question, but where did you get this machine?

Hinode: Oh, uh..

Hinode: The rabbit thing from earlier gave it to me.

Miki: ...

Miki: I have a bad feeling about this.

Hinode: Come on, Miki-san, you know we have to do something to the guilty prisoners. 

Miki: Can't we just restrain them?! Can't we just lock them up or something?!

Hinode: You will be in control, Miki-san. 

Hinode: You can always adjust the settings. You can even choose how many memories you wish to extract. 

Hinode: You can go for a small memory loss or a big one. 

Hinode: It's your choice. They don't have to lose all of their memories and they don't have to lose them forever.

Hinode: It's not like they're going to turn into mindless zombies and their brains are going to melt.

Miki: ...

Hinode: .. Are you ready to give it a try?

Miki: .. I-I'll go pay a visit to Ishizu-san. 

***

???: It seems like the third trial is going to start soon. Are you excited?

???: Hm?.. I don't know, should I?

???: It's like.. I want to know how all of this ends, but at the same time..

???: These guards are way too slow. They're not even trying to uncover this place's secrets.

???: But.. Isn't that actually good for us? I mean, that would be a pain to deal with.

???: True, but it also would be more entertaining.

???: These guys just feel like lab rats to me. They're so obsessed with their morals, they don't feel like real people to me, haha.

???: "Everyone is guilty!" "No, everyone is innocent!" A bunch of clowns, that's who they are.

???: *sighs* Well, at least the future guards should be more fun.

???: Ah, have you already made your choice?

???: Yeah. Here, take a look.

???: ...

???: .. O-oh. U-understood.

???: Sorry about this. I know it sounds like I don't care, but..

???: No, no, I.. I understand. 

???: I will-

???: Woah, this tea tastes really good!

???: Oh, sorry for interrupting you. Anyway, can you tell Jackalope to bring this to, uh.. you know, that girl?

???: S-sure, but.. Sorry if this sounds rude, but why can't you do it yourself? 

???: He's taking a nap right now. Getting enough sleep is very important. 

???: S-so you're just telling me to sit there and wait until he wakes up? 

???: Yep.

???: ...

???: Y-you really love him, huh..

???: Okay. Well, if you'll excuse me. 

(sounds of footsteps that become more and more quiet)

???: He's a good guy. 

???: But sadly, good guys like him either don't live long here or just get taken advantage of.

???: I'll prefer it to be the second option-

???: Huh?

???: What's that noise..

???: .. The third prisoner.

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The second trial is over. Thank you for participating!