#and of course there's also something to be said for the difference classical training in Britain makes vs acting in America | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abyssalwavezz · 5 months ago

Note

zayne smut and i need it neowwwwwww do whatever you want with the plot

Impulse Control

Author's note: I know who you are anon, and this one is for you <3 that's all I've got to say LOL also if you like kpop, check out my kpop page @ta3mint bc I am trying to revive it after such a long break lol also fun fact...I think this is one of if not the longest fic I have ever written. So yeah...send in your LADS requests. It's good to be back, ya filthy animals.

Contains: Zayne x MC/YN, consent king Zayne, jealous/down bad Zayne, explicit sexual scenes with unprotected P in V (use protection irl pls), fingering (fem receiving), MC briefly on top, relatively vanilla missionary (but it’s a classic okay?) and somewhat vague hints at Zayne and MC lore if you squint

Warnings: Minors for the love of God, pls do not interact!! Sexually explicit content, adult themes, cursing, etc. and as always...no proofreading <3

Word Count: 7,872

It was no surprise that Akso Hospital was winning an award for their exemplary service to Linkon City. What was a bit of a surprise though, was Zayne taking the initiative to ask you to come to the banquet with him. He could be so hard to read sometimes, and though of course he could be thoughtful, this seemed to be a direct request, even for him.

You couldn't help but reread the texts from earlier, your heart and your mind racing in tandem.

Zayne☃️: How has your day been so far? Have you been staying hydrated? You often forget to drink enough water when you are busy.

Me: Dr. Zayne, do you text all your patients and remind them of their hydration levels?

Zayne☃️: Only the most forgetful ones.

Me: You mean there's more than one? And here I thought I was special :(

Zayne☃️: Don't fret. You are, in fact, the only patient who I perform this service for.

Me: Well in that case...I should probably go drink some water in between training sessions.

Zayne☃️: Before you go, I wanted to ask you something.

Me: Oh? I am listening (and hydrating as we speak)

Zayne☃️: The hospital is receiving a service award tonight. There will be a banquet. I was hoping you might want to come with me. After all, you have served Linkon as much as I or any of the other medical staff has. It is only fair that you are my plus one. If you want to be, of course.

Me: I would love to, Dr. Zayne. One question though...

Zayne☃️: Yes?

Me : Will there be dessert? 🧁

You had hoped the little joke about dessert would take your mind off of...everything. But it hadn't worked. You were still sitting in your desk chair, knees pulled tightly against your chest.

What did this invitation mean? Did Zayne...no. No way. There was no way he was inviting you because he saw you as something other than a friend and a patient. He said it himself, that it was only fair to invite you due to your service as a hunter.

How about you, though? What did you see Zayne as? You definitely would like to be more than friends. You couldn't help but fall for him after seeing him so often nowadays. He was everything you could have ever dreamed of in a man. But did he know about your feelings? Did he notice the amount of time you spent watching him work or study instead of focusing on your own work or training material in front of you? Did he notice you watching him even more closely during your workout sessions?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

Anyway. It was time to get ready now, and the part you dreaded most was here... Choosing what to wear.

You didn't really have many formal outfits to choose from, and you felt like the ones you did have were worn too many times. Right about now, you were wishing that Zayne had asked you earlier than the day of so you could've had more time to prepare. But honestly, would it have made a difference? Procrastinating was one of your favorite sports.

Eventually, you settled on your favorite dress.

Putting it on turned into somewhat of a chore, though. It didn't fit quite the same way as you remembered... but it had been a while since you last wore it.

Thankfully, it went on without any damage to the dress, but you couldn't help but pull at the fabric at the bottom of the dress. It was also a bit shorter than you remembered, it seemed.

And was this slit in the side always there?

Never mind that, it would have to do. There was no more time, and you still had to do your hair and makeup, as well as put on accessories to go with the dress. To be honest, you were a bit out of your comfort zone at the moment.

"Tonight better go well," you muttered to yourself.

The sudden noise from your phone caused you to stop what you were doing with your hair.

Grabbing it with a gloved hand, you immediately saw the text from Zayne letting you know he was waiting outside to pick you up.

You placed the last bobby pin in your hair and gently pushed your earrings in, then grabbed your phone and clutch before heading out the door.

As you passed by the mirror on your wall, you checked your makeup one last time, too.

Was it too much? It was a formal event, so you assumed you were to look the part. Ultimately you decided you looked fine, and part of you wished that Zayne would like it, too.

Oh, who were you kidding. You really hoped that Zayne would like it.

The sounds of your heels meeting the hard floor echoed throughout your apartment building until you got into the elevator. Once you were inside, you sent Zayne a quick text letting him know you were on the way.

Ding!

The elevator alerted you to let you know that it had arrived on the first floor. Quickly, you stepped out and into the parking lot, not wanting to be the cause of potentially being late.

After a quick scan of the nearby parking spaces, you saw his car a short distance away. You made your way over, cursing yourself for choosing these particular heels that were already causing foot pain.

As he saw you approach, he stepped out of his car and walked around to the passenger side, placing his hand on the door handle. He was wearing a traditional suit, accompanied by his glasses that he seemed to save for special occasions or work.

"Wowww, Dr. Zayne. No lab coat today? And doesn't your car have a button to open the doors, even when you're inside?"

"Would it still count as chivalry if I were to only press a button?"

He gave a small smile and pulled the door handle, stepping aside to let you in the car.

You smiled back, gently sitting down so as not to disturb your hair and dress.

As you moved past him, Zayne took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly before forcing them back open.

"You okay, Zayne? Am I wearing too much perfume? Or even worse...do I stink?"

Zayne shook his head and smiled once more.

"No and no, of course not. I like what you are wearing."

You nodded, satisfied with his prompt answer which caused your cheeks to burn.

Zayne closed your door and walked back around to his. He sat down and buckled himself in, motioning for you to do the same.

"The banquet is in an event hall not far from here. There will be some speeches that may bore you, by the way. This is your last chance to back out."

It was your turn to shake your head.

"Not a chance. It took me so long to get ready, I have to see this through. Besides, I was glad you thought to invite me."

Zayne turned the steering wheel to back out of his parking space, carefully eyeing his backup camera.

"Well, I am glad you accepted my invitation."

Zayne was telling the truth about it not being far. You made it there in only a few minutes. Frustratingly though, it had started to drizzle.

"Aw man, my hair and makeup will be ruined. Then everyone will think you brought a drowned rat as your plus one."

Zayne chuckled, pressing the button to turn his car off.

"Nonsense. Chivalry is still alive and well in Linkon."

Once again, he came around to the passenger side of the car rather than pressing the button to let you out. Seemingly out of nowhere, he had produced a large umbrella that was big enough to cover both of you, and especially big enough to protect your hair and makeup.

"Zayne, you are really outdoing yourself already. How could I ever repay you?"

"Don't worry, you already are."

Zayne walked slowly with you, making sure to keep the umbrella placed perfectly over your heads. Thanks to him, you both made it to the doorway of the event hall dry and in one piece.

There were lots of people, which was to be expected. Nevertheless, you instinctively clung to Zayne's arm, wrapping a hand around it tightly.

He was caught off guard, but only for a moment, before placing his large hand over the top of the silky fabric of your glove.

"You hunt Wanderers for a living and you're scared of a little crowd?"

You glared at him playfully, the amusement obvious in his usually soft voice.

"Hush, you meanie."

If you thought there were a lot of people in the foyer, it was nothing compared to the amount of people in the actual hall.

Numerous circular tables littered the hall as far as the eye could see. Pretty much all of the seats were already full, causing you to wonder where the two of you could possibly sit down. In the center against the back wall was the stage, presumably where the speeches Zayne mentioned were going to take place. Flower displays were plentiful, several of the biggest ones taking up the front of the stage, and the smaller ones sitting in between tables. Tiny vases with smaller versions of the displays sat on top of the tables, surrounded by expensive looking crystal dinnerware. It was definitely not something you see every day.

"Where would you like to sit?" Zayne asked.

You scanned the nearest tables, squeezing Zayne's arm when you saw an empty one.

"Let's sit there," you said quietly, pointing with your index finger so he could see what you were talking about.

Zayne nodded once he saw your choice, leading the way through the people that were still standing around.

There were five seats at the table in total, and by the time you got there, one of them was already filled by a young man that hadn't been there before. Oh well, you couldn't have expected to sit at a table with only Zayne at an event like this. But a girl could dream.

After you and Zayne sat down, the young man turned his attention to you. Nothing in particular stood out about him, and you couldn't say you recognized him from anywhere.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," he said in a voice that didn't quite match his plain-looking features.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you, too," you replied politely.

"And you as well," the man added as he looked towards Zayne.

Zayne nodded, but didn't say anything. It seemed his mind was elsewhere at the moment.

"I'm (Y/N), and this is Dr. Zayne from Akso Hospital."

The man gasped quietly and looked back over to Zayne.

"Ohhh, I've heard a lot about you. You're definitely a big part of the reason the hospital is receiving the award tonight, I'm sure!"

The man seemed genuine in his comment, as far as you could tell.

"I am only doing my job. I have no desire for awards or accolades. Besides, there are many competent doctors and nurses that work at Akso. That is the reason for our award." Zayne said harshly.

You were a bit taken aback by Zayne's choice of words, but you chalked it up to potential nerves about tonight. The man didn't seem too fazed, which relieved you.

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Richard."

You nodded and smiled at him, just before a sharp noise echoed throughout the event hall. Your eyes searched the surrounding area, and you realized the banquet must be underway. There was a very important looking man near the edge of the stage, clinking a metal spoon against his wine glass.

"As you all know, we are here tonight to recognize the achievements and outstanding service of Akso Hospital...but we are also here to eat!"

This earned a few laughs from the crowd of people, and even one from you. You couldn't deny you were starting to get pretty hungry.

You looked at Zayne and noticed that he did not laugh, nor did he even smile. Instead, he seemed to be set in stone, staring straight ahead at the man speaking by the stage. It almost seemed as if he was looking through him, like his mind was still somewhere else entirely.

"It isn't like Zayne to be nervous...but what else could it be? Does he regret bringing me here? I probably look so silly, like a little girl all dressed up for her secret crush", you thought to yourself.

Ignoring the sudden pain in your chest, you turned your focus back to the man up front.

"...once again, I thank you all for coming. But for now, let us eat and we'll get to the rest of the award ceremony later!"

The hall gradually began to get louder as people began to talk amongst themselves again. This seemed like a good opportunity to get Zayne to talk and settle the nerves that were boiling under the surface of your skin.

"Zayne, aren't you starving? We didn't eat before we came!"

"Mmm," Zayne hummed quietly in agreement.

"Oh! I didn't realize you two came together. Are you...?

Richard didn't finish his implied question and your ears began to burn instantly.

"Oh, no no! Nothing like that," you quickly replied, waving your hands back and forth in front of you.

You didn't dare glance at Zayne, so you weren't sure of his reaction to the conversation. But thankfully you didn't have to worry for long, since Richard started talking again.

"I see! Well, (Y/N), what do you do for a living?"

Grateful for the change in topic, you jumped at the chance.

"Well, I'm a Hunter!"

"She's very good at what she does. I have seen her at work. We often assist each other," Zayne said suddenly from the side.

Both you and Richard glanced at each other before looking at Zayne, who was as stoic as ever, but this time looking directly at you.

Your ears, still not recovered from a few moments ago, grew uncomfortably hot.

"I think the line for food has gotten a bit shorter," Richard pointed out. "Should we go ahead and head over?"

"Yes, I-."

Zayne cut you off, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

"Why don't you save us a spot, Richard? I need to ask (Y/N) something about a confidential matter at work. It cannot wait."

Richard stood, giving a small nod and a quick smile in your direction before walking towards the food serving line.

Once he was out of earshot, you hastily gathered yourself before facing Zayne.

"Is something wrong? You've been acting strangely since we sat down."

Zayne pushed up his glasses, keeping his eye on Richard's back as he stood at the end of the line on the other side of the hall.

"There is something odd about him. We should find somewhere else to sit for the night."

You scoffed, unsure of what he could be talking about.

"I'm not sure I understand, Zayne. He seems perfectly normal and nice to me."

He shook his head.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Well, of course I do, but..." you trailed off before continuing, "It just seems like something has gotten into you. Am I not allowed to make friends?"

"Of course you are. You can have as many friends as you like. Just not him. There is something wrong."

For some reason, Zayne's words frustrated you.

"I don't need permission, Zayne. Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to get some food because I am starving. If you'd care to join me, I'll be over there."

Without waiting for a response, you left the table and walked with determination over to Richard, where he was still waiting in line. You truly had no idea what had gotten into your usually very kind and understanding friend, Zayne. You had never seen him act this way, so far as you could remember. Even so, as you got farther away from him, your resolve faltered. Had you been too harsh? No. Zayne was being...weird. You wanted to get to the bottom of it before the night was up.

"Hey!" Richard smiled and waved you over.

You gladly stepped beside him where he had saved you a spot.

"Thanks for holding a place for me, Richard. I'm sorry it took so long for me to get over here."

"It's no problem! I know you and Dr. Zayne must have a lot of secret work you need to do for Linkon. Speaking of, is he coming? There's more than enough room for him!"

You sighed, shaking your head.

"I'm not sure. He seems a bit...stressed at the moment. I may just bring him something to eat to help out a little bit."

Richard nodded.

"That's very kind of you. Dr. Zayne is very lucky to have a friend like you."

"Yeah," you couldn't help but sigh as the staff behind the table handed you a serving of the first dish. "A friend."

As you progressed down the line, Richard told you more about himself. You returned the favor, sparing some of the more private details of your life. But it truly was nice talking with him. He was very easy to get along with, and that further fueled your confusion towards Zayne's behavior.

After the two of you finished getting your food, you made your way back over to the table. As you got closer, you realized Zayne was no longer in his chair.

"Where did Zayne go?"

Richard looked around, nearly spinning in a circle.

"I'm not sure. He must have gotten tied up in an important conversation somewhere."

Just then you felt a buzz in your clutch, your phone alerting you to a text.

You set your plate down and reached into your clutch, grabbing your phone easily thanks to the small size of the bag.

On your phone's screen was a brief text from Zayne, asking you to meet him outside.

"Is everything okay?" Richard asked.

You snapped your attention away from your phone and smiled nervously at Richard.

"Of course! I just need to use the restroom before we start eating. Will you finish telling me your story that you mentioned in line when I get back?"

Richard nodded enthusiastically.

"I would love to!"

"Great, I'll be right back, I promise."

The air outside had gotten significantly cooler after the sun finished setting. Thankfully, it wasn't raining anymore. But you didn't see Zayne anywhere. He wasn't in the foyer and not immediately outside of the building. Almost in a panic, you turned around to search the entire parking lot. And that's when you caught a glimpse of a nearby streetlight reflecting off of something other than a car a few feet away.

It was Zayne's glasses, and he was leaned up against the side of his car with his arms crossed, looking off to the side.

"Zayne?"

Your voice caught his attention, and he used his weight to push himself off his car and move closer to you.

"There you are. I need you to come with me, we have to go."

As you got closer to him, you noticed he had an unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was one you had never seen in them before, and it instinctively made you nervous.

"Zayne, what's going on? You've been so weird tonight and now you're kind of scaring me."

Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Forgive me, I..."

You remained silent, waiting for him to finish, the rapid beating of your heart pounding in your eardrums.

"I seem to be acting on my impulses tonight. Something I thought I had been teaching myself not to do."

His actions were still not understandable to you, and he instantly read the confusion on your face.

"It's...it's his fault," Zayne murmured. "It's this dress."

Suddenly, he bent down to your level and ran his finger up the sleek fabric of your dress resting against your thigh. It caused you to tense up and shiver, whether from his actions or the night air, you weren't quite sure.

What you were sure of though, was how badly you wanted him to touch you again.

"Forgive me," he repeated. "I can call you a taxi to take home. I shouldn't have done that."

"Zayne," you said abruptly, causing him to stop from getting his phone out.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me," you repeated, this time a little less confident.

Zayne didn't say anything else before closing the rest of the gap between you in one step. Both of his large hands found space on each side of your face, and they rested there for a moment before he looked at you in the eyes, his own moving back and forth to discern the expression on your face.

"(Y/N)..." he began hesitantly.

"What?"

"If tonight has shown me anything, it's that I have not been controlling my impulses as well as I have previously. If I do this...I fear that I won't be able to stop myself."

You tried to take a deep breath, but it got caught in your throat.

"Do you want to kiss me, Zayne?"

"Yes," he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his frenzied eyes. "I cannot tell you what it has been like, seeing you almost every day now and falling in love with you all over, again and again. I have waited as patiently as I could have."

Shakily, you reached a hand up and loosely gripped one of Zayne's hands still on your cheek.

"Again? You've fallen in love with me before?"

Zayne hummed quietly, almost imperceptibly shaking his head against yours.

"Never mind that. Just know that I need you...I always have."

"Zayne, I..."

Something about what he was saying felt eerily familiar, and it felt like an invisible force was pulling you somehow even more closer to him in that moment.

"Please," Zayne whispered. "Tell me what you want."

"I...I want..."

Zayne rubbed his nose against yours, inching closer and closer to your parted lips. His labored breaths mixed with your shallow ones, causing the cool night air to visibly swirl around you. Your heart continued to pound, so loud and hard you were sure Zayne could hear it.

"I need to hear you say it...one more time."

Lighter than a feather, his lips brushed against yours as he spoke to you. And finally, finally, you were able to get your words out.

"I want you to kiss me...and I don't want you to stop."

Zayne tightened his grip on your face, his hands slipping slightly due to the thin layer of sweat that was between your skin and his. And then he pressed his lips firmly against yours.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss Zayne before. You had always assumed it would be magical, meaningful, and passionate.

And it turns out, you were right.

His lips tasted slightly sweet as he moved them against yours in perfect harmony. The sounds of your breathing echoed around you, muffled slightly by the sheer lack of distance between his face and yours. Your hands moved to hold onto his shoulders, and his moved from your cheeks to your waist, leaving a feeling of bitter cold behind. Somehow, in the contrasting heat of it all, he turned you around so you were now pressed between him and his car.

As soon as he did this, the kisses became more sloppy, more intense. You could feel his energy shift and it nearly caused your knees to buckle as he moaned quietly into your mouth. It occurred to you that your nails might be digging into his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice.

Suddenly unable to breathe, you were the first to pull away. Zayne froze, looking down at you with a scared look in his eyes now.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I should have restrained myself properly."

"Zayne...again. Please, I only needed to catch my breath. You aren't the only one who has been waiting for this, you know."

This time, you didn't even wait for him to initiate the kiss. You moved in first, catching him slightly off guard. But he recovered quickly, matching your intensity in a flash.

The tip of his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, causing you to shiver for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. You weren't sure if he did it on purpose or if just happened, but you decided to open your lips slightly, providing an opening for him to push into deeper than before.

Zayne quickly obliged, a significant portion of his tongue meeting yours. This time it was your turn to moan, though yours was a little less controlled, and a little more loud.

He audibly groaned, the gnashing of your lips, tongue, and teeth causing a drop of saliva to run down your chin. You were pressed up against his car so tightly that it cause your shoulder blades to burn where they met the hard exterior of it. Zayne had a vice grip on your hips, and his hands were so large that you were sure it would leave marks.

The slit in your dress that you were shocked by earlier became Zayne's next target. He used one finger to trail up your thigh and hook under the edge of the slit as he kissed you, the fabric being pulled taught against your tingling skin.

Once again, you pulled away, letting your head roll back so that it rested against the top of his car. Your chest heaved, stretching the dress where it rested against your breasts with every breath in.

Zayne nestled his head into the crook of your neck, leaving small, wet kisses there. His finger that had been hooked into the slit of your dress continued its way up your body until his hand came to rest against your ribcage.

"Zayne, we should...get back before people start noticing we're gone."

"Hmm," he hummed against your collarbone.

"I mean it. What about the speeches?"

"Easy..." he murmured before placing an open-mouthed kiss, this time against your jawline. "Forget them."

"Zayne! You can't be serious."

"I assure you, I'm very serious. As serious as a heart attack."

You weakly raised your head back up to meet his gaze. There was a deep hunger in his expression, one that you could tell had not been fully satisfied.

"I did warn you," Zayne murmured before kissing you on the lips again briefly. "I have waited so long for you, it will be nearly impossible for me to let you go now that I have you."

You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he had in mind. But your thoughts and your body seemed to be communicating together, the undeniable warmth from your core spreading outwards fast. You knew you wanted to taste him again, to feel him against you again.

"Take me home, Zayne."

The drive back to your apartment seemed longer than it did when you left earlier. Inside Zayne's car, the air was thick with tension and desire. Neither of you spoke, too hesitant to mess anything up.

Once you were at your door, you prayed Zayne didn't see your hands shake slightly when getting your keys out to unlock it.

As you made it inside, Zayne closed the door behind the two of you and then slowly crouched down in front of you.

"Zayne, what are you..."

"Shh. Let me help you."

He motioned for you to lift one foot up, and you did so. He then undid your heel's strings and slid it off your foot carefully, before repeating the same steps on the other foot.

This time though, he placed his hand against your calf and let it trail up your bare leg until he stood up all the way. He took a deep breath as he did so, causing you to shake in anticipation.

"(Y/N). I know what I said, but if at any point anything becomes too much for you...or you simply change your mind, I want you to tell me. I will never do anything you don't want to do. Does that make sense?"

You nodded, overwhelmed with all the feelings coursing through you at the moment.

Zayne seemed satisfied, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it by the door. You couldn't help but notice how nicely his white button-up shirt sat against his toned arms.

He chuckled.

"If you don't like this," he said softly, pulling at the fabric of his sleeve, "I can remove it, too."

Involuntarily, you shuddered, realizing what he meant. But you had a better idea.

"Can I?"

Though your question was short, he understood what it meant.

Without a word, he stopped closer to you, looking down at you with a glint in his eye.

"If that's what you'd like."

You didn't mean to necessarily, but you held your breath as you let your clutch fall to the floor and instead placed your hands at his collar. As carefully as you could, you undid the first button of his shirt. Zayne watched you intently, his breathing picking up again like it had earlier in the parking lot.

One of your knuckles accidentally brushed against his collarbone while you undid another button, and it was his turn to shiver, even at such a slight touch. Honestly, it made you feel good, knowing that he must be feeling the same things you are feeling.

You continued down the shirt, each button coming undone with an almost inaudible pop sound. The farther you made it down, the more of his chest you started to see. It was unsurprisingly perfect, chiseled in all the right places, so much better than you could have ever imagined.

By the time you made it to the last button, you needed to pull the fabric out from where it was tucked into the hem of his pants. It was here that you hesitated.

"Are you alright?" Zayne asked, sensing your mind reeling. He placed a hand over top of yours where it still held onto the last button of his shirt.

"Yes, I'm alright. I just...don't want to mess anything up."

"Don't worry. You are perfect. Whatever happens will be perfect. Let me help again, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, nearly silent.

Zayne gently removed your hand from the last button, and tugged his shirt out from his pants to remove it completely.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight before you.

Then without thinking properly, you let your hands reach out for him, flattening against his bare chest. Your fingers traced the lines carved into his skin, and you realized you really shouldn't be surprised at this since you know he works out regularly.

“Would you let me take you somewhere more comfortable?” Zayne asked, nodding his head towards your bedroom.

“That definitely isn’t a bad idea.”

Zayne chuckled at you again before grabbing one of your hands to lead you away, making sure to carefully step over your forgotten bag and his white shirt on the floor.

He sat on the edge of your bed, waiting for you to enter into the room completely.

You were still mesmerized by him, by the situation. And then you realized that you had on remarkably more clothing than him. You decided to enlist his help one more time.

You turned in a circle, so that your back was now facing him. Though you could do it yourself, you thought this would be more fun.

“Help me again, Dr. Zayne”

From behind you, you could hear him stand up and make his way over to you. You moved your hair out of the way so that the zipper on the back of your dress was now visible.

“If that is what you wish.”

Even through the material of your dress, you could feel his cold fingers against your back as they slid the zipper down to your waist.

Once he made it to your waist, you took a step forward and chanced a look over your shoulder.

Zayne stood behind you, watching you with another unknown emotion behind his darkened green eyes.

You shrugged off the top of your dress, causing it to instantly gather around your waist. Your bare back was now directly in front of Zayne, as the dress didn’t require you to wear a bra. The air in your room made you tense up.

Braving any lingering fears, you pulled the dress past your hips so that it fell to the floor, and you stepped out of it. Now you stood only in your underwear.

A few seconds passed and you could then hear Zayne take another step forward. A few seconds more, and you hissed as Zayne’s cold hands made contact with your exposed hips.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, planting a kiss against your shoulder.

You no longer felt the metal of his glasses bump into your skin, so you assumed he must’ve tossed them aside.

“Let me show you what you do to me. What seeing you with someone else does to me. How it makes me feel…”

Before you could respond, one of Zayne’s hands snaked around the front of your waist and began teasing the waistband of your underwear. You instantly knew what he was planning to do.

“And more importantly, let me make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but gasp sharply at how bold Zayne was being as he gently slid the tips of his fingers past the edge of your underwear. His other hand was laid flat against your stomach from behind you, and the pressure against you only intensified once his pointer finger made contact with the edge of your aching core.

Zayne placed his chin on your shoulder, looking down with an almost gleeful smirk on his lips while he watched the rest of his hand disappear past your last piece of clothing.

“Mmmm,” you hummed as the pad of his pointer finger circled around your center.

“Such a pretty sound,” Zayne stated as if it was a well known fact.

He took this time to softly dip the one finger inside of you, pumping it a few times before adding his middle finger. You could tell he was instantly covered in the wetness coming from deep within you, the slick feeling of his fingers inside already driving you wild.

A fire began burning inside your mind and body as he continued drawing his two fingers in and out of you, curving them slightly to find the spot that would inevitably cause you to unravel around him.

Your knees buckled and his grip around your waist with his other hand tightened.

“I’ve got you. I always will,” Zayne spoke against the thin skin of your neck, nuzzling deeper into the space between it and your shoulder.

The faster he went, the less you felt like you were physically there. The only feeling you had right now was the feeling of his touch, as if that feeling which wasn't even your own doing was the only thing that tied your existence to this room, to this place. You weren't even sure if you were standing properly anymore or if he was holding you up with his other arm. You didn't really care.

Never in your wildest dreams had you expected to end up in this situation. But now that you were, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else or with anyone else. You knew from this point on, he was the only one allowed to witness you like this. There was no going back from this. He had drawn you in and made you his, and this was where you belonged.

It was when you realized this that you came undone.

Somehow, you remained conscious of your neighbors and stifled the strangled whines that threatened to escape your gaping mouth. You eyes screwed shut in pure concentration, causing a single tear to escape the corner of your right eye.

"Shh," came Zayne's quiet voice from behind you.

He rubbed his nose against your cheek where the tear had fallen, ultimately wiping it away. The contrast of his cool nose against the sizzling skin of your cheek was very noticeable.

"Would you like to lay down?"

"Mhmm." This was the only sound you could get out now, but Zayne understood.

He kept a stable grip on you because he had, in fact, been holding you up for the past several minutes. You would have to thank him later.

Zayne guided you towards the bed and helped you first to sit down, and then to lay your head against the pillows. He gingerly grabbed your ankles and readjusted your legs so that they would be laying more comfortably on the end of the bed.

You couldn't help but cringe at the feeling of your now freezing, wet underwear that was sloppily pulled back into its proper position.

From the left side, you could hear Zayne lay down next to you, and his wide hand rubbed the clammy skin of your stomach.

You laid in silence for a few moments, waiting for your breathing to calm down before speaking.

"That was, ummm..."

You briefly glanced over at the man next to you and couldn't think of what to say next, your mind a tangled mess. Really, you had assumed he would say something to fill the silence where you were lacking. But when he didn't, you decided to take a better look at him.

Though his hand had come to a rest on your stomach, he was not looking at you. Instead he was looking at the ceiling, his jaw set harshly as if he was concentrating on something.

"Zayne, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You rolled over onto your side, wrapping an arm around him and trying to ignore the feeling of your bare nipples against his cool exterior.

"No," he said shortly, but softly. "You were perfect, just as I said you would be. I just find myself...struggling to restrain my actions further when I should already be satisfied. And I am...satisfied. However, it would seem that you allowing me this pleasure has turned me into not only an impulsive version of myself, but a greedy one as well."

"Zayne...?"

You began to sit up on your elbow to look at his face, but your other hand brushed up against a lower part of him you weren't expecting to. The sensation immediately elicited a sharp hiss from Zayne.

"Oh!" you exclaimed in surprise, "I'm sorry."

Zayne shook his head roughly.

"Don't be. And don't feel obligated. Promise me, (Y/N). We don't have to go any further."

For a minute, you thought about what you would like to happen next. You took Zayne's words to heart, and you knew he meant them.

But perhaps you had become a bit impulsive as well.

Wordlessly, you finished sitting up enough to look down at Zayne who was now making eye contact with you rather than looking at the ceiling. Your hand had come to rest on his lower stomach now, right below his belly button. If you moved down any further...

You noticed how tight the fabric of his pants was around his bulge. You swallowed thickly, the embers of the fire you felt a little while ago becoming reignited.

"(Y/N)..."

Zayne watched as you looked between him and his painfully restricted erection.

"What do you want, Zayne?"

He was visibly surprised at your sudden confidence, but remained composed.

"That is not as important as what you want. I will always place your needs and wants above my own, no matter how tempting it may be otherwise."

Zayne sounded almost hoarse from timid anticipation and it only further fueled your own desires.

"Let me show you what I want."

He didn't say anything else, he could only watch as your now steady hands touched the belt keeping his pants up.

"(Y/N)," he repeated, this time urgently.

"I want..."

You let your sentence trail off and began undoing his belt as sensually as you could manage. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Zayne's chest begin to heave as he studied you like a hawk.

"You."

The belt was now completely undone, and you pulled it from its loops to toss it carelessly aside on the floor. You then undid the zipper of his pants, the sound of it clashing with Zayne's distorted breaths. Once you had the zipper down all the way, you did the best you could to pull his pants down while he was laying down. It didn't take much before his throbbing length was now restrained by one less layer of clothing.

He shook at the air hitting him down there, and you struggled to keep your eyes from widening noticeably at how large he seemed to be. At the center of his white underwear, you could see several small dark spots from his increasing arousal.

Before he could try to talk you out of it, you lifted one of your legs to straddle him. Both of you moaned simultaneously as your tingling core came into contact with his rock-hard bulge.

Using the last bit of your newfound confidence, you bent down and captured his lips in a wet kiss.

"I have always wanted you."

Zayne watched your lips in awe as you spoke, the corner of his own lifting in a small smile.

And then he collided into you.

It was like the kisses you shared in the parking lot, only...it wasn't at the same time. This felt more primal, more passionate. As if your souls had begun threading together like they were somehow meant to.

You held onto his face tightly as he kissed you, the wet sounds of your mouths echoing in your small bedroom. His deft hands came to rest on your ass, and they dug into the softness there as he thrusted upwards against your throbbing genitals. This caused your back to arch slightly, making your lips leave his, the only thing now connecting them a string of your mixed saliva.

Zayne took this opportunity to roll you under him so that he was now hovering over your exposed body.

One hand held his own body up, and the other tenderly traced around the edge of your breasts.

"You are too good to me," Zayne sighed under his breath.

"And while I do not normally condone this..."

Zayne stood up suddenly and fully removed his pants and underwear in what seemed like one swift motion before climbing back over top of you.

"I have no control left within my body."

His hands gripped your underwear tightly, his knuckles turning white and his veins popping as he completely ripped the flimsy material off of you.

"Zayne!"

He gripped the headboard, leaning over you to whisper in your ear.

"I'll buy you more."

You shuddered at both his words and the proximity of his naked body to yours.

"Do you trust me?" he continued.

"Yes. I trust you Zayne."

"Then hold on," he growled, his hot breath fanning over your ear.

Using his other hand to grip himself, he steered his length to your entrance, teasing it slightly with the head.

"Oh, shit," you gasped loudly.

With no further hesitation, Zayne fully inserted himself inside of you, making the both of you moan noisily. He remained there for a moment, his sweaty chest rubbing against your own. The hand that was on the headboard now came down against the mattress to hold the rest of his body up. His other hand grabbed one of yours, and he weaved his fingers in-between your own.

Your clasped hands gripped each other stiffly as he started to thrust in and out of you. As he did so, your other hand clawed at his back.

Where it had been silent before, your room now seemed like a concert of lewd noises. Zayne's grunts, your mewls, the wet sound of your bodies slamming together repeatedly...it was all so disgustingly beautiful.

Though your eyes were shut, you could feel Zayne's sticky forehead against your temple. The grip he had on your hand intensified, and the rapid, hot breaths from his mouth collided with your neck. Shamefully fast, you felt the familiar feeling of your impending climax, and you couldn't help but wonder if Zayne could, too.

"You..." Zayne panted, pulling himself out of you before slamming back in, all the way up to the base of his cock. "Already?"

You scoffed, opening your eyes to look at him, chastising yourself for thinking he was anything other than observant.

"You do things...to me too, you know?"

Zayne groaned, almost animalistic in the way that it sounded.

You licked your swollen lips, the moisture temporarily aiding in the chapped sensation you had been feeling.

"I want to feel it...I want you to look at me."

Zayne withdrew his hand from yours and instead grabbed your chin roughly. He then turned it, so that you were facing him completely.

"You are doing so well..."

For some reason, you fixated on the sweat that was flowing down the side of Zayne's face, dripping from his soaking wet hair. A few drops of it landed on your cheeks, but Zayne's increasingly harsh thrusts made them run down to your neck.

He kept a grip on your chin and began sucking on the skin where his sweat had pooled against a divot in your neck. It was with such force, you knew there would be a purple bruise there the next morning. The thought of others being able to see the evidence of the filthy night you had with Zayne was enough to send you over the edge for the second time.

Zayne felt you begin to tense up, and knowing what was coming and that he would not be able to stop himself from climaxing inside of you if he remained there, he begrudgingly removed himself just in time.

His warm cum splattered harshly against your pulsing core, and he couldn't help but watch as it did. The sight of you so utterly spent and covered in his seed was enough to make him collapse next to you.

This time, the silence in the room seemed ridiculously loud. It smelled completely of sex, and you knew you would have to wash your bedding tomorrow.

But you also couldn't help but feel completely at ease. That was the closest you could have ever hoped to be to the man you loved.

Love...what a word, right?

Part of you wanted to proclaim it right then and there. Though the other part of you was content with the silence, laying next to the second half of your somewhat broken soul.

It felt complete. You felt complete. And you hoped he did too.

You'd have to thank Richard if you ever saw him again.

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #zayne #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #lads zayne #zayne smut #zayne fic #reader insert #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #love and deepspace zayne

137 notes · View notes

magnagaruzenmon · 6 months ago

Text

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.

#kpop fanfic #twice fanfic #qwer chodan #twice dahyun #qwer fanfic #zombie au

84 notes · View notes

wandixx · 1 year ago

Text

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 2 224

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: First meeting and training discussions Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

Duke was running out of fumes to run on. Last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it of during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they need to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two ours left.

Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too...

Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.

It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.

When loud screech of timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.

"Oh, you're awake," white haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross legged just few feets away from him. She wore something that could only be described as an unholy mix of lab safety hazmat and skintight workout jumpsuit, white and black. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante? "Good, I just returned from snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.

"What?"

Girl shrugged, take out from BatBurger in her hand.

"You look like you have a bad day if not few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries," as she spoke, second take out bag, 1 quart bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of same size and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.

"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. Noone else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.

"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to speed of sound," So, clearly a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has bad few days he often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."

Duke was not going to look gift horse in teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.

"Thank you..." he trailed off, hoping that girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.

"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has different purpose," she explained instead, slightly muffled because of fries in her mouth, "This" she gestured towards fast food meal "is to sooth your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to sooth your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised bottle of juice, "is to sooth your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to sooth your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that," she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?

"No, I'm not," he confessed bewildered.

"Good"

For a long moment they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.

He was finishing his part of brownies when girl spoke up again.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah" he was a little surprised to realize that it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"

"Don't mention it," she shrugged with general gesture of dismissal, "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote, "she did honest to God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't only one. Anyway as he said 'As only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has celebrity crush on you," she slurped more juice, unbothered.

Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took split second to consider addressing... this whole situation and choose not to. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.

"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.

"Dani" she corrected" with an I"

"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I," She giggled, nodding her head slightly.

"It's nice to meet you too Signal"

Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.

"I have to get back to my patrol"

"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.

"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him," she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before," she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature and other waves she excluded but for regular people she would be no different than surrounding air.

"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."

She popped back to visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.

"I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."

It was ten god damn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop mugging in such a short time?!

Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.

"I haven't seen it-" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity energy he could muster "-so I don't know how you fight or even what powers do you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare faced lie, Bat training made sure of that but he knew for fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.

Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?

Oh no.

Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration she nodded with a defeated sigh.

Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.

"Wha-"

She just shushed, raising finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quietened.

"I have enhanced hearing," she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."

"Let's go then," he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.

"After this you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"

"Okay"

It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.

And afterwards he was going to lock himself in his room until sky falls down or he was well rested.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

********

"Hey kid," Signal started, dropping from fire escape to cuff weirdo in clown mask who Dani just fought. He did it deliberately slowly to show her how to do it like he always did. She choose to not be to annoyed at being called kid again and noted to herself to come up with good codename later. All her previous ideas apparently weren't cutting it and she couldn't keep going by Dani because reasons.

"Yes?"

"Who gave you a combat training?" he asked getting up from a crouch and gesturing towards roof. So it's going to be longer talk, okay.

"My cousin," well, Flashes in Central taught her some stuff but it was more rescue and reassure type of deal not punch and kick, Sam tried to get her through basics of psychological warfare in activism, Tucker sweared he would teach her some programming and hacking but never got around to it, Jazz did some emotional training and Val offered to teach her Red Huntress skills when she got back, but yeah, all in all, Danny was the one to show her how to punch people. Even though it was more of 'shit we have to fight, observe maybe, idk' most of the time. She picked some tricks from Vlad too now that she thought about it, not that she planned to give him any credit for it, like, ever. "Why?"

"I have a bone to pick with him," vigilante announced, melting with the shadows. Dani sped as much as she could to beat him to the roof. She was competitive spirit like that.

Unfortunately he was first. She made another note to herself (she was so going to forget them in next five to ten minutes) to train her speed a bit more. She got tips from the guy with the title of The Fastest Man Alive for crying out loud, she shouldn't loose with the person who technically doesn't even have superspeed!

Signal sat cross legged on the gravel and tossed her a healthy granola bar. He kept doing it for some reason.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but almost everything in your fighting technique is horrible. Your cousin did shitty job as a teacher" he started in warm slightly teasing tone. Dani felt attacked anyway.

"It's not like he has any sort of training either," she started, trying to sound nonchalant, rolling her eyes. "Cut him some slack," She bit a snack in attempt to cover her furry. It had chocolate and raspberries, was quite tasty and she was kinda hungry anyway. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how Signal knew it though "Everything he learned is from the trial and error by crashing through a few walls. Quite hard to care about 'technique'. I at least got his mistakes to learn from so don't you dare to speak about him like that!" alright, she lost it, she can admit it. But, Signal might be cool and Danny may or may not like him (she hoped he didn't, Val was much better option) but Gotham's hero had no right to say anything bad about her template. He didn't know anything. He didn't understand.

Signal looked like he was going to say something so she put her ghostly vocal cords to use and growled.

Don't-harm-family/will-fight/ protect-mine/don't-you-dare

She didn't stop to consider how unlikely it was for him to understand her. She crossed her hands on her chest, glaring.

Turned out, growl was enough of the warning. He carefully picked his next words.

"Sorry, it's not the way I should've phrase it," he started, his mouth doing the thing it did when people were embarrassed with themselves but in an uncomfortable, a bit angry way. He understood his mistake, good. She calmed her glare a bit. "I wasn't aware of you circumstances. If you want, I can show you some tricks, Batman is very throughout with his training"

"No, thank you, I'm good" she was still mad. So mad. And she was not pouting.

"Of course you're good but you can be better, more efficient."

"No." Whatever Signal would propose to her, she wouldn't agree. He said mean things about Danny not even a minute before. She couldn't let him have it on a principle!

"I'll give you a cookie after every training," he pleaded "The homemade, tasty one"

Well, that changed things. A lot of things.

"Yes please!"

He apologized anyway.

********************

Second part

I know democratic winner in poll for now is "publish all at once" and believe me, I respect democracy, especially now that I finally have rights to do things, but Tumblr wouldn't let me. Too long or something. So, it'll be in parts, sorry guys. I'll try to post all of the parts this weekend though (or one each day, I'll see).

Yes, I didn't have a name for this fic until five minutes ago, how did you know? It's quite alright though, I think. If you have better idea I may reconsider

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he doesn't even know it yet #not fully at least #Dani: I'm going Goth(am)#Danny: Maybe don't?#Dani: Nah #Danny: Stay safe?#Dani: Alright *imprints on the first hero she sees*#this random mugger Dani stopped: Last thing I saw was feral racoon child #police officer: what?#almost mugging victim: I was saved by said feral racoon child #police officer: What?!#Dani: Alright. Good deed for today done. They're calling my name in BatBurger to get my stuff. See ya!#Dani: I hope I can make it back before Signal wakes up #Police guy&mugger&victim: Did she kidnap our hero???#Dani: *fights*#Duke: With all due respect. How did you survive this long?! *died inside a little bit from stress*#wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

255 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 5 months ago

Text

from the interview published by chinanews network with xiao zhan ❤️

Guo Jing, ushering in the "Xiao Zhan moment"

　　The last time director Tsui Hark and writer Jin Yong collaborated was a remake of "Smiling Proud Jianghu" more than 30 years ago. At that time, actor Xiao Zhan was still very young. For the "post-90s" of that era, in the distant and plump dreams of the rivers and lakes, Jin Yong and Tsui Hark are definitely heroic.

The arrangement of fate can be called a coincidence. More than 30 years later, when Tsui Hark remade Jin Yong's work again and took up the guide of "The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Great Hero", Xiao Zhan, who was already an actor, became the hero in the story.

"Encountered" with Guo Jing, Xiao Zhan used his body and mind to portray the character arc of "The Great Man of Chivalry".

The classic Guo Jing, who belongs to several generations, is also in the spotlight again, ushering in a "Xiao Zhan moment".

The following is a conversation with Xiao Zhan:

When an actor meets a character

　　After meeting "Guo Jing", Xiao Zhan spent several months getting close to the character.

He received systematic physical and martial arts training, practiced Mongolian hard, formed muscle memory, and tried to integrate with the role. It was undoubtedly a very fulfilling process for him.

Q: How long did it take to "become" Guo Jing from the beginning of the script reading?

A: From the beginning of the training to the end of the last shot, I have been trying to get close to this role and become this role, and it took more than 7 months before and after, and more than 2 months for training.

Q: When you became, did you make any attempts that you hadn't done before?

A: Yes, for example, horseback riding skills. I used to ride horses, but I wasn't so skilled. Then there is a very systematic physical fitness, martial arts training, and most importantly, the dabbling in the Mongolian language.

For me, it's a new language indeed. I need to master it quickly and perform it in Mongolian, which can be a big challenge for me.

Q: Are there any tips for learning Mongolian?

A: There are a lot of Mongolian lines in the original script. The first time I saw the Mongolian lines, I was worried about myself because I couldn't read them. All I could do was communicate with my Mongolian teacher non-stop, just like I did when I was a kid learning English.

When the Mongolian teacher said a sentence, I read it with headphones on, first grasping the intonation and speed of the language, and then performing it in Mandarin for the script, making notes and marks.

For example, if there are emotions that I should be a little more intense or something, I mark them clearly and then convert them into Mongolian, and then apply them to the Mongolian context and add emotions to them. It's such a process, it's more complicated.

Q: What is your daily routine like during the training camp?

A: Everyday life is just like going to school. It's not so hot in the morning, so I get up early every day and rush to the horse farm for horseback riding training. The horseback riding course probably includes getting familiar with the horse, running laps, then sprinting in a straight line, jumping obstacles, riding with one hand, riding with weapons, and picking up things, which will make us familiar with the skill of riding a horse first.

I'll find out why later. When the horse arrives at the grassland, it is easy to lose control, and at this time, the actor must have the skills to control the out-of-control situation, so preliminary preparation is very important.

After riding, take advantage of lunch time to go back to the studio for martial arts training. Martial arts training will have some basic skills training, such as kicking, warm-up, punching some basic routines, and then designing different moves according to different roles.

For example, many of my moves are "palms", eighteen palms of dragon descending, and fists; Huang Rong and Hua Zheng are sticks, and then knives. After these trainings, there will be WIA training. It's a very fulfilling process.

The highest level of intelligence

　　When he was a child, Xiao Zhan watched the story of "The Legend of the Condor Heroes". At that time, his impression of Guo Jing was very intuitive: this person must not be stupid.

　　Later, he found that Guo Jing has a characteristic: he can devote himself to doing things wholeheartedly and have no distractions, which is the highest state of intelligence.

Q: How do you understand "chivalry"?

A: Before filming the movie, my understanding of "chivalry" was that martial arts are strong and chivalrous. After filming "The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Great Hero", I have a new understanding of "chivalry".

"Chivalry" is not only to have a skill, but also the stronger your ability, the greater the responsibility you need to shoulder, "chivalry" is a very important spiritual core from the inside out.

Q: Why do you feel that you are most similar to Guo Jing's spiritual traits? What are some of the places that are particularly like?

A: It's a little embarrassing to say, like boasting. I think Guo Jing is a very powerful existence, both his martial arts and his spiritual core, they are very powerful. The similarity between me and him is that I may be more serious and focused in doing things.

Sometimes when an actor plays a role, he can't grasp too many things, so I started with Guo Jing's serious energy from the beginning.

Q: In the tidbits, you have been writing notes on the set, what is the content?

A: It's Mongolian. At the shooting site, the filming of any film and television drama is changing at any time, and there will be some changes in the Mongolian language when it comes to me, maybe the Mongolian language I prepared two or three days in advance will have some changes after arriving at the scene.

Q: When did you feel that Guo Jing was not "stupid"?

A: That's what I thought from start to finish. When I watched "Shooting the Condor" for the first time when I was a child, I felt that he must not be a trait like "stupid", otherwise it would be impossible to learn a skill.

So I discussed with the director from the beginning, and the director also told me that Guo Jing is definitely not a "fool", he is a very powerful person, and he is a very smart person.

I mean the clever point is that he knows what he doesn't want. For example, when learning a skill, he will devote himself to it wholeheartedly, and there will be no distractions, which is the highest state of intelligence, rather than playing some small tricks.

Q: What were the biggest challenges during the filming of this film?

A: There are challenges on all fronts. For example, in the past, riding a horse was just a trot, but when it comes to training, you have to ride a horse and gallop. I don't know if you've ever had the experience of when you release the reins or you give the horse the first command to start, the horse will run out like an arrow, and at that moment you're a little weightless, which is the first hurdle at the beginning.

The second is martial arts training. For me, the pre-training martial arts instructor requires fists to the flesh, so we all have to be in touch with each other; And then to Weiya in the back, although I have also had the experience of filming Weiya before, but director Tsui Hark pursues a sense of realism, he repeatedly tells us about realism, he thinks that people have to have gravity, even if there is Weiya, many actions need to be your own force, including the feeling of gravity when landing, so this is also a new attempt of mine.

How to find the core of Guo Jing's body, this is the most difficult. We went directly to shoot the second half of "Shooting the Condor", in fact, he has become Guo Daxia at this time, omitting the previous processes, how can I find out what Guo Jing is thinking at the moment? What is his spiritual core? He grew up in such a complex environment, how should he face the nation and the general righteousness, and then make a choice? That's a tough one for me.

Q: At what point in the process do you feel as if you have entered this state?

A: Actually, I feel like I'm always in a cycle of self-doubt, self-recognition, and then self-doubt. It seems that the actor can constantly solve a problem and overcome it. I'm supposed to be in such a state anyway.

Guo Jing's "staying power"

Xiao Zhan handed in his answer. When the director announced the "filming was completed", his feeling was "it's finally over."

However, for actors, those roles they have interpreted with heart will always leave traces in their lives. Guo Jing's perseverance and persistence also gave Xiao Zhan support and faith invisibly.

Q: Did the role of Guo Jing leave any traces on actor Xiao Zhan?

A：Of course. Every role leaves something in me or takes something away from me. The character of Guo Jing is very powerful. His perseverance and persistence subtly gave me a lot of support and faith later on.

Q: What was the last shot when filming Guo Jing?

A: The last shot is Huang Rong and I riding horses. We are galloping on our horses and then heading towards the sunset. This is the last shot of me and Rong'er.

Q: What was your first feeling when the director shouted “Wrap Up”?

A: My first feeling is that it has finally come to an end.

Q: How do you feel about working with director Tsui Hark and Mr. Tony Leung Ka Fai?

A: Working with the director is a wonderful and unforgettable experience, and it is a rewarding experience.

Director Tsui Hark strives for perfection in every aspect, and he truly loves movies and devotes himself to them. This has given me a lot of inspiration. When I am on the set, I will always remind myself to devote myself to it and do my best to shape it well. The character of Guo Jing.

Teacher Liang is very professional. He doesn’t need to say much when he arrives at the scene. Just a glance can pull me into the situation. Teacher Liang was also very helpful to us. When he had no scenes to film, he would come to the set to give us suggestions and guidance on our performance.

Q: When filming Guo Jing, the director mentioned the grasp of "degree". What do you think are the most difficult parts?

A: I think the director knows exactly what he wants, and that “degree” may be something I have to find myself.

For example, the director told me and Zhuang Dafei at the beginning that we were the "rock musician" versions of Guo Jing and Huang Rong. He also told me later that Guo Jing was actually a "returnee" who grew up in a complicated environment. Grown in two different regions.

So I think the director always knows where his "degree" is, and this "degree" is a process that I need to find and then become one with the role.

Q: Do you still feel that the role of Guo Jing has some staying power in you?

A：Of course. As I just said, the similarity between me and Guo Jing is that we are both serious about things. Now, I often think that I should do everything well and focus on the present moment, just like Guo Jing. When you are doing something, don't have too many distractions and just do it well.

-END.

#xiao zhan #loch #legend of the condor heroes #accio victuuri translation

47 notes · View notes

etherealspacejelly · 11 months ago

Text

ok so i just watched star trek the motion picture for the third time and this time it was the directors cut with the extra scenes, and i have some Thoughts™️that may or may not be entirely coherant but i need to share them

here is my in depth literary analysis of why star trek the motion picture is the greatest queer love story ever written (/hj). buckle up because this is gonna be a long one

so our story starts (after the klingon cold open ofc) with spock on vulcan, during the final ceremony in which he is supposed to acheive kohlinar, the purging of all emotion. now, right off the bat, i want to make a comparison to conversion therapy/being closeted/repressed here. spock is trying to repress an entire side to himself, a part of him that is inherantly different to those around him, in order to be accepted in society. spock is already a very queer coded character, and i think reading this scene through that lens is a valid interpretation, especially considering everything else that happens in this movie.

the ceremony stops before its completion. because spock has Not purged all of his emotions. a consciousness calls to him from the sky. now, i think this line could be interpreted one of two ways. either this 'consciousness' is v'ger, or its jim. i think the writers intended it to be v'ger, but in the context of the scene it sounds a lot more like jim. of course jim would be the one preventing spock from purging his emotions: jim is the reason for many of spocks emotional slip-ups throughout the series. he fears for jims life when he is in danger, he feels friendship for jim but also shame about those feelings (that shame is also queercoded, but thats not the point of this post so i wont get into it here). he feels compassion for jim. he feels loyalty and a sense of duty to him. these feelings are so strong that he cannot purge them fully.

so what does spock do? he off goes in search of something that he feels will help him achieve his goal. he wants peace within himself, to find a balance between his two opposing mindsets, that of logic and that of emotion. purging all emotion was unsuccessful, so what else can he do?

he feels that v'ger is a being of pure logic, and wants to understand it, in hopes of achieving that for himself. in the process he meets up with jim again. now, you would think, that a vulcan nearing kohlinar who has been training for years to purge all of his emotions and act purely logically would not stop to change clothes and cut his hair when on his way to acheive LITERALLY HIS LIFE GOAL that is super important to him. and yet. when spock turns up on the enterprise hes wearing his nicest black robes and has his classic bangs back. why is that mr spock?? why would you take the time to do that?? especially when he then immediately changes into his uniform.

and while we're on the topic of clothes, what does jim do immediately after spock boards the enterprise? thats right folks, he changes into a shirt that shows off his arms and has a v-neck to show off his chest. any. particular reason for that jim? when you said just a moment ago that every minute counts and the earth is in danger? hmm. interesting.

and then of course we get that exchange between jim, spock, and bones. where jim 'needs' spock. just like he needed bones. theres a desparation in his eyes, he wants HIS spock back, and hes not seeing that spock in front of him. the conversation ends with jim looking dejected, since spock only seems to be there out of convenience and not because he Wants to be. wonder why that is...

of course then spock mind melds with v'ger. and to do so he has to. go through a very sphincter-like opening. and says he has 'penetrated' the next chamber. now im just saying. if anything is a metaphor for gay sex, this has to be, right?

anyway.

spock mind melds with v'ger and is flung back into jims arms. because of course he is. and what did he learn from the whole experience? that v'ger is pure logic, and therefore cannot experience beauty, imagination, and "this simple feeling". wait. hang on. what simple feeling would that be, spock? the one you're talking about while holding jim's hand (HANDS?? VULCAN HOLDING HANDS?? HELLO???) and staring into each others eyes? what feeling would that be, i wonder?

and then. SPOCK CRIES. for v'ger. he 'weeps for v'ger as he would for a brother". v'ger is 'empty', as spock was when he came aboard. "incomplete, and searching. logic and knowledge are not enough," he says. bones asks if spock has found what he needed, and v'ger hasnt. spock says that v'ger wants to know what it was meant to be, to reach out and touch its creator.

spock is crying because he empathises with v'ger. v'gers journey parallels his own. they were both empty beings of pure logic. spock found his fulfilment in... what exactly? its not explicitly clear. but if we continue the spock/v'ger parallel to its conclusion, what do we find?

v'ger has taken ilia's form, and decker decides to merge with v'ger not only to save earth, but also to reunite with the woman he loves. v'ger becomes satisfied only when this happens. so... spock found his fulfilment by reuniting with someone he loves? if we take this in context with the 'this simple feeling' scene, the queer subtext is right there.

at the end of the movie, spock is offered to return to vulcan, and he refuses, stating that his business there is finished. he has achieved his goal of finding peace within himself. not by purging all emotion, but by embracing emotion, alongside logic, and allowing himself to feel what he has repressed his entire life. he resumes his place at jims side, which, as edith keeler stated, is where he belongs.

this movie is a queer story, and i will die on this hill. all of the evidence together stacks up that way. it is a story of repression, self acceptance, and love.

ALSO THE POSTER IS A RAINBOW-

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the motion picture #spirk #the premise #k/s #star trek analysis #literary analysis

54 notes · View notes

danhumphrey · 9 months ago

Note

i love your taste in movies, do you have any recommendations for scary movies that are on streaming right now? i just moved and i'm planning to get a library card this weekend but until then i need something to tide me over :)

oh thank you!!! yes! this is just from taking a look around at some of the horror streaming guides i’ve seen online so hopefully these are accurate to which service they’re said to be on!

on netflix:

•train to busan (2016) is an all timer for me that i really think is just a masterpiece. even if you’re a little burned out on zombie media, i still say give train to busan a chance because it does zombies in a way that felt really refreshing and different. the characters in this movie are so well done and it makes me genuinely emotional every time i watch <3

•as above, so below (2014) is such a fun movie like omg….i simply was having the time of my life watching it. really leans into as many scares as it can possibly think of, doesn’t take itself or its subject matter too seriously, genuinely gives me sweaty palms sometimes with the claustrophobia of the paris catacombs. also has the rlly cute guy from cloverfield/super store who i have a big crush on

•some honorable mentions: zombieland (2009) is forever a comfort movie for me, scary stories to tell in the dark (2019) did a genuinely great job imo of adapting the book series, and pearl (2022) is just a great time

on HBO max:

•poltergeist (1982) is an underrated fav of mine <3 weirdly i think of it as like a family friendly horror movie? like i think you could sit down kids in front of poltergeist and they’d generally be okay, which i love and find so compelling in movies that genuinely are scary but also kinda work with younger viewers. feat. the iconic zelda rubinstein

•trick r treat (2007): THEEE halloween movie. its literally a movie ABOUT halloween and about the love of the holiday and the season. genuinely makes me feel so emotional about halloween and the beautiful lovely meaningful holiday it is for so many of us. just a fun campy time, everything ties together in such a clever way, and sam is a little baby. what more could you want?

•honorable mentions: of course the scream franchise (1-4) are classics and so worthy of rewatching, and i’ll recommend open water (2003) because to me it is absolutely terrifying and i find myself thinking about it very often

on hulu:

•the omen (1976) always hits for me. i love this movie and find it so effective in its horror. i LOVE a creepy kid. a bit of the omen trivia: in the final shot, damien wasn’t originally intended to be smiling. he was supposed to look dead ahead at the camera. but the actor was told to be serious and look stern, which made him giggle, so the smile at the end is genuine in that he was trying to suppress a laugh. they kept it because it came across so sinister and tonally perfect in the context of the movie :)

•sea fever (2020) listen no one EVER talks about this movie but i was blown away by it. ocean horror is one of my moms fav subgenres so if we can find a horror movie about the ocean you better believe we will be watching. i thought the concept of this movie and its monster (? if you can call it that) were so fresh and original. compared to its predecessors like leviathan or deep star six, i honestly think sea fever is more effective in its scares

•honorable mentions: hulu has so many good choices! alien (1979) and the fly (1986) are obviously beloved classics for a reason. also if you’re looking for a series, castle rock is near and dear to my heart and is very well done

on prime:

•hell house llc (2015) is another one of those classic Halloween movies to me like it truly is a love letter to the holiday…mwah. found footage is my fav subgenre and this movie does it very well. it has one of the most effective scares that truly took my breath away upon first watch and stuck with me ever since

•10 cloverfield lane (2016): ohhh the cloververse my beloved….i often speak highly of cloverfield (2008) because it’s one of my absolute favorite movies of all time, but i don’t as often talk about 10 cloverfield. not sure why tbh because i love it as well! holy FUCK john goodman is scary in this. it truly sets up a horrifying situation, does so much with a small limited environment, and again john goodman has me shakin in my boots. you don’t have to have seen cloverfield to watch this one! you can watch em out of order no problem

•honorable mentions: of course the thing (1982) is immaculate and gets me every single time. just getting reports right now that lisa frankenstein (2024) is already on prime, HIGHLY recommend, wish i could go back in time to the day i watched this in theaters alone in a new windbreaker i had just thrifted and felt so at peace

honorable streaming service mention: shudder is worth a subscription if you’re wanting to go all in on horror this halloween season. it’s got such a fun eclectic collection and amazing movies like late night with the devil (2024) and series like history of horror

#tried to do a little mix of the more classic recommendations with some that may not come up as often!#out of everything on this list i would honestly highlight sea fever and hell house llc if you’re wanting to branch out #i think watching these smaller and lower budget films is really what partaking in the genre is all about #watching how well people can scare you when you’re least expecting it!#answered #anon

22 notes · View notes

cats-journey · 4 months ago

Text

The Hospital Stay

Okay, so this is all new and I’m learning a lot. For example, I learned that the week after chemo I am particularly toxic so have to be extra careful about the cutlery and crockery I use, that they need to be set aside and cleaned with bleach, etc. (Dramatic? Pour Moi? Who would have ever seen that coming).

On Tuesday I decided to go to work. I went in to the office with the view of setting myself up for what I might be able to do, see how my energy levels go, talk to my supervisor, etc. I managed a few hours, then went home, napped and tried to recuperate.

On Wednesday I woke up with some minor muscle spasms in my lower back, but I pushed through. I went to work. I had training, it was uncomfortable, I pushed through. Look, not only was I a competitive athlete as a teen, but in my family that’s what we do. If it’s a niggle you’ll be fine, manage it but it’s not an excuse to go home.

UNLESS! You suddenly end up doubled over in pain, have a headache and blurry vision and it hurts to walk much less sit… then you calmly ring your father from your desk asking to please get a lift to be taken to the hospital. And you think you yourself ‘hmm… this might be one of those things the oncology nurses told you to ring in about - unusual symptoms or possible side effects’.

So I tried calling, I’d not saved their number in my phone (because let’s be real, I did not have the foresight when sitting in a bed for 7 hours getting pumped full of poison and exhausted from a massive first week of being sliced, diced and becoming part cyborg) so I was on hold for the entire time it took to be picked up and driven to the place. I was told my first port of call should be the GP. My mother’s facial response to that comment was… classic, and would have been funny if I wasn’t in so much pain. So we went to the Emergency Department. The way the hospitals have been changed, I could be driven closer but it was still a walk.

So we got there, they gave me a wheelchair and put us in an interview room for isolation from all the germs (because I have no immune system. Poison), and it was a game of waiting a couple of hours until they could get a bed sorted in a different isolation room. I think it was only 2, but who knows? The nurse and doctor who saw me were lovely, took bloods and of course couldn’t leave the canula in because it hurt so much, even though the nurse did a great job. I have a feeling everything is kind of inflamed inside me right now… which is also fun for both myself and them. I was moved to a room in the EMU (heh, emu) and then around 7 hours later when I said I wanted to just go home if they had my results, I learned something new.

Apparently chemo can cause micro fractures in your spine.

I also have a very active and cuddly baby, who happened to have wanted to be lifted into bed with me the night before. Oh.

So I stayed overnight so I could get a CT scan where my muscles were freaking out, to make sure it wasn’t a case of micro fractures. It turned out to be a massive blessing, because I slept quite comfortably and everyone in the house got sick. Thankfully they didn’t find anything to explain the muscle spasms, so I’m adding electrolytes to my diet twice a week to help mitigate that. They couldn’t find a root cause, so I put it down to a whole lot of trauma to my body in a short amount of time, then trying to force my body into something that used to feel normal.

I may have been discharged, gone home to shower and got changed to go back into work. In my mind, it made sense to see what I could get done but also to stay away from the germs from my sick family. I also don’t know how long I’ll be at work for, I’m already struggling with maintaining concentration and feeling like a burden more than a help. But we’ll see what happens. This might give me time to focus on some things I’ve been meaning to do anyway.

With Love, as always, Cat xx

12 notes · View notes

callofdudes · 2 years ago

Note

what about 141 with reader who's very old-school. Listens to metal and rock, dresses like a rocker from the 80s, has cassette tapes and vinyls, doesn't use technology etc. I'm like that and everyone always makes fun of me. 😭

That's cool as shit. Also I'm sorry I kind of sidetracked and I wasn't really sure how to approach this... so if it's not what you wanted anon I'm very sorry.

Price 🥃

He thinks it's very cool. He doesn't meet a lot of recruits who aren't glued to their cellphones all the time. Of course while you couldn't get around not having one, you preferred not to use it. It was something he liked about you. Something that made you you.

Now... He would be lying if he said going into your room or your office makes him feel old as shit. Like really fucking old.

He pulls a vinyl record off your shelf and whistles in surprise. "Hey I used to have this..." And then it hits him. "Oh..." He's so bloody old.

He walks out of there with trauma. Every time he sees you walking around with a walkman or sees that Nokia you have displayed on your shelf he has a mid life crisis.

He likes the old songs you listen to, and hearing how you know the words to every 80's song really does bring him back to when his father would play it. Wasn't a huge memory, but it was something familiar in a way.

For your birthday he finds an old record player, yes, he was searching forever. But he found an old record player so now you could play the vinyls how they were intended.

And oh dear Lord the cassette tapes. He got PTSD from going to blockbuster and finding out no one had rewinded the tape before he rented it. Nightmares. Nightmares!! He picks one up and relays the horrors of going to blockbuster at eight at night, getting out near ten for your movie night and finding out you had to spend half an hour rewinding the bloody tape.

He had a lot to say about cassette tapes.

As far as your clothes go he doesn't really think about it much. He thinks some of them are impractical for training and such, along with questioning their durability. But whatever you want to wear he doesn't much care.

Sometimes Price hears the other recruits making fun of you. And he doesn't really understand it. It's nothing different from an older generation saying kids are stuck to their phones. What mattered was you liked it, and you were happy. Simple as that.

A good slap on the wrist from Captain Price gets them to shut up for a while.

He likes that you live how you want to despite the mean people around you.

Ghost 💀

Ghost never really had any technology even when it did start to come out late 80's early 90's. He does remember his brother eventually getting a phone and the old Gameboy he had at one point.

Yes. He is old enough. He had a walkman. The childhood memories he got from seeing that thing was horrendous. He remembered how after a while of trying to block out any noise with them, (which they weren't good for) his ears would start to hurt.

But it wasn't bad. He liked seeing the old vinyls and you seemed to know more than he did. Which wasn't a surprise really.

Your office reminded him of his father's in a way. The back shelf behind your chair stacked neatly with the rows of vinyls and their covers all so well taken care of. The record player from Price off in the corner whenever you wanted some music on just to relax.

They never watched many movies when he was younger, but he remembered when his brother would take his hand and guide him down the rows of shelves in the local blockbuster before their shared curfew so they could get some movies, and Tommy would usually try to sneak a more adult film in between the children's classics and things of that nature.

Your room also gives him PTSD. But only in the way of remember how awful it was. How the static on the tv would make the inside of his brain itch or how uncomfortable those walkman headphones were. Or remembering that space invaders game his brother would play when he was little. A lot of memories he didn't expect to have triggered.

But he thinks it's really cool. He recognizes bands that were really popular. Maybe you were a Rolling Stones kinda kid, maybe you were more into Metallica and such. Hell even Nirvana though it's more early 2000's.

(he might even steal one of your posters) shhh, you saw nothing!

You two jam out a lot. As a rock fan it would be only fair that the two of you were to listen to music together.

Loves your clothes. If they would ever fit him he'd steal them from you. But I don't think he'd so easily slip into them. Something he's sad about.

But if he ever hears anyone talking bad about you he's ready to give someone a good talk with the sharp end of his knuckles. Seriously, if they have the balls to talk shit about his sergeant, his friend, he's coming for them.

He won't let them tell you you're weird or other things because you're being who you want to be. Their just cowards.

Gaz 🧢

Now I think this one is tricky. Kyle was born roughly around when Walkmans started to become less popular so he never had any of the things Price or Simon did. However he did have an old cassette receiver where he used to watch old movies his grandma had bought or played some of the old games.

But your room. He loves your room. All the posters of old bands and records. The cassette player for your movies and stuff.

You also had a guitar that you occasionally played, he really liked that.

All the retro stuff like game figurines and what have you. All the cool clothes you have. If that really comfy AC/DC sweater you have goes missing. It's not a gremlin, just Gaz.

Also willing to just come to your room and jam out with your music. Also brings over some of his old games and convinces you to play them with him.

He thinks it is cool. You carry around a walkman and an old radio player for music and he enjoys them.

He is mostly interested in the bands you're into. He doesn't open up a whole lot but when he sees you playing these old songs he feels happy coming to you with CDs of jazz songs and older songs he likes to listen to. And it helps you two bond.

Let's be honest, he steals more of your old retro stuff from you than everyone else. Which is a surprise. He'll always leave you a little note telling you which tape set he stole or which thing he took from the dark reaches of your closet and how long he plans to have it be stolen for.

But you guys are besties like that. He wouldn't do it if he knew you wouldn't be even a little comfortable.

He's a property stealer just as much as Johnny is. That's the point. It just takes certain stuff for him to want to borrow it.

If he hears people bullying you, he's either squaring up right there. His gun does all the talking. He doesn't have to say anything, a good barrel in the face usually has them quieting down.

His second option is to cyber bully them to hell and back. So you're in good hands. Don't let those things get to your head or Gaz is gonna do some insane shit.

Soap 🧼

Doesn't know what half the shit in your room is. He's a baby, born just when that stuff started to fade from mainstream media and his pea sized brain couldn't register any of it.

A walkman? What the fuck is that?

Cassette tape?? Blockbuster?? What the actually fuck are you telling him. He's a smart little cookie but he's lost on this one. Like couldn't you just get a CD??

He isn't arrogant about it. But growing up in a traditional Scottish household he didn't have technology. He didn't have his first phone until 15, so he doesn't know what half these things are.

Hanging around Simon he knows the bands like AC/DC and Metallica, more 90's groups but he knows. He's seen a vinyl in his dad's room before but that's about it.

Loves your clothes. Absolutely loves them! He is dying to wear them, if they'll fit him that is... Maybe he'll buy something similar.

Is the guy who will buy a Nirvana shirt and know none of the songs just so he can match with you.

Again, a little property stealer. Snags a poster or two thinking you won't notice. A sweater or two during the fall. And if they don't fit him he's buying the exact same one off Amazon for 30$ don't test him.

He likes to learn about all the music you like. As the kid who was also raised in the outdoors. Sacrificing his life for little league football and Scouting in Scotland. He totally understands you not having the biggest hook over technology.

He doesn't really either.

The technology people of your group are surprisingly (not really) Ghost and Gaz. Give Johnny a few bombs and an open field and he's a happy camper. No technology required.

So he thinks it's awesome too. He definitely likes your style and always wants to know more. He wants to get into your hobbies and know all the knowledge he possibly can.

Tell. Him. Everything.

He's feral. If he hears any nonsense they better get ready to square up right there and then. He's tired of hearing people discredit others so a good punch without warning and those idiots are knocked out.

But he's also the prankster, so you give him a name and he will torture that recruit and their friends for a month with the insane stuff he can pull.

Price knows it's Soap, but without the recruits having concrete proof there is nothing to be done. And he thinks it's hilarious this time around.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x y/n #john soap mactavish x reader

149 notes · View notes

luna-andra · 1 year ago

Text

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 8: Compromise

Summary: Andra wants answers, and Ghost has to choose

Word Count: 6.5k

If this is the first time you're seeing this, Chapter 1 is here. You can find the rest on my masterlist!

Content: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+, fluff, mentions of mental health, mild violence

The clouds on the way home were overcast across the afternoon sky. Johnny left Andra with several things to think over, bringing her back to a familiar train of thought from five years ago.

He gave her the same look that stirred shame in her belly. She didn’t like being on a different level of rationality – or lack thereof – with the people once close to her.

It was declared by the officer that showed up there was no indication of foul play. The possibility of an incompetent and inconvenienced officer being sent to her call was in the forefront of her mind, and also the possibility of any traces of someone’s presence could have been washed away from the thunderstorm by the time they came out to investigate. The whole process of filing the report gave her no peace of mind, but she took the advice of setting up surveillance seriously.

A precautionary that she should have done ages ago.

The quiet, quaint life out on the farm had soothed her troubled worries all of these years, making her forget for a moment what it was like to live looking over her shoulder every moment. She wasn’t naïve, no, she knew how to take care of herself when the seldom case of harassment arose. Andra should have never gotten so comfortable the way she did.

Her foot pressed down heavily on the brake pedal as she waited at a stop light to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. She was just a few more turns from home, she reminded herself. The caffeine she had ingested all throughout the morning was threatening a big crash.

Andra drove slowly down Middleton Lane as she spotted the first right turn to the private dirt road of Ghost’s property. Then her truck came to a full stop. You know what-

Her hand turned the wheel right as her tires skid around the corner.

Andra didn’t know what she was doing, or what she would exactly say to him, but she needed to know what was going through his head.

Andra parked behind his truck and turned the key out of the ignition. She paused for a few seconds to take a breath and gather at least the first sentence that would come out of her mouth.

Her phone vibrated.

I’m in the garage.

Of course Ghost knew Andra had arrived, another sign that she definitely needed to do the same thing to her property. Cameras and motion sensors.

She shut the door behind her as she made her way to the garage off to the right of his house. One of the metal double doors was left cracked open, and she could hear the metal clink of a tool being put down.

The garage was Ghost’s own personal auto shop, with an incomplete classic-looking car taking up majority of the left. The wall was lined with tool boxes, yard tools, and almost a pallet’s worth of army green ammo cans. To the right, a rudimentary gym setup took up another portion of space, with a bench press, a high pull-up bar, seemingly crafted and welded together amateurly, and a rack of assorting dumbbells and plates to complete it all.

Ghost was hunched over the open hood of the car, one hand on the lip of the hood as he kept his attention on whatever he had been working on before Andra’s unannounced arrival.

“Is this your way of letting me know that you’re pushing me away again?” Andra sharply said to the backside of Ghost.

Ghost tossed a tool onto the toolbox on his left side and retrieved a rag, wiping grease from his stained hands. His muscles tensed in his back as he turned to Andra’s direction. “Today has been a really tense day. I wanted to give you some space to come down from last night.”

Andra clenched her jaw. “I don’t need space, I need answers. I feel like I’ve been kept in the dark about something I have no control over.”

“That’s because you don’t.”

She could feel her blood simmering already. Not how she wanted this to go. “I don’t because you never gave me the choice to take control.” Andra couldn’t recognize the person she was talking to. His stare was cold and dark. If his goal was to anger her into cutting her losses with him, it wasn’t going to work. “You didn’t tell me anything because we lost touch the first time, fine, I get it. But you went ahead and told Johnny? That’s what I can’t get passed.”

Ghost trudged out of the garage with Andra following behind him. “He and I had an eye on things. We had it under our thumbs.”

Andra tossed her hands up. “Had what exactly?” Her voice echoed all around them. “What the hell is going on with you?”

He turned back to her, stopping her in her tracks before bumping right into him. Ghost peered down to her, his eyes burning the same heat. “What do you want from me? You want me to take back what I did?”

Her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to dig into her palm. “No, I just want you to stop being such a hard ass and talk to me.” Her carotid artery strained against the muscles in her neck. “Tell me what you think is going on and we’ll deal with it together.”

He flinched as if her hand flew across his face.

“You keep acting like you’re looking for an excuse to push me away, for an excuse to leave.” Andra’s chest rose and fell with a heavy rhythm. “You act as if one morning I’ll wake up and you won’t be here, and you’ll just be a memory for me.”

His eyes squeezed shut as his own breath left him.

“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Leaving without another word, taking your shadows with you.” There was a shiver in her voice.

“I have.” Ghost finally answered. “I could leave in a moment’s notice. I’ve done it before.”

Andra didn’t doubt him. She had done it herself, she knew how easy it was to pack a couple of bags and leave. “What’s stopping you this time?”

Ghost opened his eyes to meet hers.

She scoffed and turned away from his silent response. The wind picked up and wisps of her hair flew around her face. She had to squint her eyes at the unbearable overcast sunlight. “I was able to forgive you for cutting me off the first time. I shook it off because there was no expectation for you to keep in contact after fixing my truck. Then you came back, and I thought you wanted me in your life, and maybe we even had something. Cool. Great, even.

“But when you brought up the transpiring events, the person driving up our street and telling me there have been people on my property?” She shook her head. “You think you’re handling this on your own but you’re not. I won’t let you. Either you let me know what’s going on, or you’ve lost my trust.”

His eyes were unreadable when she saw him once more.

Andra reached into her pocket and flipped her keys into her palm, the key ring sitting on her index finger as she clenched them tight. “I’ll see you around, Ghost. If you figure out what you want to do, you know where to find me.”

The screen door smacked the side of the house harder than it should. Andra wasn’t paying attention. Her face still felt hot with anger. Sammy darted outside for her chance to do what she does, leaving her alone in the house.

The air felt thick, charged with energy that wasn’t there when she woke up the morning before. Or maybe it was her mind messing with her. Either way, her house felt compromised.

The tears collected in her eyes out of nowhere, and she quickly wiped them away. This is stupid. She felt ridiculous for letting it get to her. For letting a shattered window re-surface the fear that drove her away to another country.

This was all going to blow over. The tracks in the woods were a random coincidence, the car meant nothing. And the rock flying into her window was just a freakish feat of nature. She’s witnessed some heavy storms in the countryside in her years of living here. It wouldn’t be the first time something has sustained damage on her property, and it was bound to happen again.

“Be kind to yourself.” Andra whispered to herself as she kicked her shoes off, remembering what she was taught in therapy and from self-help reading. However, being kind to herself was proving difficult with the lingering anger from talking to Ghost.

The nerve of him.

But also, the nerve of her. She felt the weight of her corrosive past. An affliction, threatening to dismantle the life she had built. It had to be irrational, she was no one. She wasn’t worth being tracked down, right? That’s the rhetoric she kept force feeding herself. They had succeeded in getting rid of her, she made sure of it. At this point, if anyone wanted to pursue in finishing the job, she would end up burning a hole in their dirty wallets.

And if Ghost was going to play the need-to-know card, two can play that game.

She stopped in her tracks as she walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the black trash bag covering her window. It crinkled and swayed inward and outward with the passing wind. The ever-growing chasm in her chest was making itself comfortable, and she couldn’t stand it.

-----

Ghost knew Johnny would stop calling after the second time he reached his voicemail. The third call in a row told him that he better answer the phone. His heavy hand reached out to the nightstand for his phone, swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed it against his ear, eyes closed. “Yes, sir.”

“You broken, Simon?”

Price’s gravelly voice came through the speaker on his phone, and it was like a splash of cold water on him. It was a question he was familiar with Price asking, except he’s no longer checking for missing limbs or hemorrhaging blood loss. Ghost sat up on the edge of his mattress and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “M’solid.”

“When’s the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?” Price asked.

Ghost took a quick glance at the time on his phone before returning the receiver to his ear. “I was getting’ rest before you woke me up.” He was only asleep for two hours, and his pounding head reminded him that it had been a restless 72 hours.

Price doesn’t reach out very often. The captain – along with the other lads – will dedicate an amount of time out of the year to catch up with the former task force in person. It was an annual event of spending the holidays doing anything but celebrating Christmas and New Years. When he hears from Price before November, it’s because he’s been tipped off on Ghost’s concerning behavior.

“Soap tells me you’re acting barmy, you think you’re being followed, son?”

There it was.

Ghost didn’t respond for a few beats, his feet felt like lead against the cold wooden floor. “A couple of events transpired, would put you on edge, too.”

He could hear a deep sigh come from the other end of the line, and it had Ghost clench his jaw. “Get yourself to an appointment or a meeting, or I’ll bring the meeting to you.”

Price’s demand sent a wave of guilt and shame through Ghost. The memories of being pulled up off the living room floor and thrown into his tub flashed behind his heavy eyelids. Price, Johnny and Gaz showed up. Ghost reeked of alcohol and piss. They had him hauling bags of sand back and forth from his backyard to the range on his property for several hours, making him sweat and puke the remains of alcohol in his system.

“I’m still sober.” Ghost gritted his teeth. He made Ghost sound like an addict.

Price clipped his words, “See your doctor, and get out of bed for a sweat.”

Ghost opened his eyes to the void of his darkened room and sighed. “I’ll set up an appointment today.”

“Good lad.” Beep-beep-beep went the line as Price disconnected the call.

Sleep had eluded Ghost once more. He sat there at the edge of his bed and rolled his neck, failing to relax the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. His eyes burned, and his headache pressed down on every surface of his skull. He felt an irritation for Price waking him up, but rationality told him it wasn’t his fault.

Since sleep was out of the question, Ghost stood up and peered out the bedroom window. The sun wasn’t due to come up for another couple of hours, but he insisted to listen to Price’s advice. Get a workout in, then when the office opened, call doc to get that appointment.

His feet were heavy as he shuffled to the bathroom. Ghost always looked down to the basin of the sink before turning on the lights, avoiding the reflection staring back at him. He watched as his hands gripped the edge of the counter. Scars littered his knuckles, the skin over bone splitting open too many times for him to count.

It was when he was sick of looking at the reminders of his violence when he slipped and the person he hated stared back with cold, dead eyes.

You’ve tried killing me so many times, but fail every single time. You need me. You need the mask. You need it to hide so there’s never a chance to hurt again. You don’t deserve her. You try and pretend to be someone worthy of a teaspoon of affection, but you’re not what she needs. You’re filthy. You’re-

The glass shattered against his fist as he struck as quick as an asp. He hissed between clenched teeth, cursing as the reached for a towel and covered his bleeding knuckles.

If one thing was for certain, his reflection was right.

He didn’t deserve her.

-----

Andra flipped closed the back end of the book and placed it on her blanket covered lap to rub her tired eyes. Every night she would read The Operators when it was evident she wouldn’t be getting peaceful rest, or when something had her jolting awake. She had no clue how many hours she had slept in the past couple of days; definitely not enough to keep her from loading up on caffeine and making her debate breaking her years of being nicotine-free.

She could hear the roosting of her birds out in the coop. Andra leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. There wouldn’t be time to try and fall asleep. Her day had to start.

After the morning chores, Andra headed inside for another cup of coffee. She stared out of her newly replaced window, out into the distance. It was hard not to; it was as if something – or someone – was going to come storming out from the brush and trees. All remained quiescent in those groves, as logic would have it.

The rattling sound of her plastic phone case vibrating against the countertop broke her focus. She swiped her finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button. “What’s up, Johnny?”

“I need to ask a favor.”

His voice was hushed and the words were muddled like he had the phone pressed against his mouth, and she could hear the workings of the auto shop in the background.

“I need you to go check on Ghost for me, he called out of work this morning.”

Andra felt her chest and throat tighten all at the same time. Johnny wasn’t aware of the fallout between her and Ghost from the sound of it. Or if he did, he must be extremely concerned for Ghost’s silence. I figured he would be used to it by now… she thought bitterly. “You need me to go immediately?”

“Take yer time, a mate of ours reached him this mornin’. Just pop over there when you get a chance. Gotta go, text me.”

The line went dead before Andra could say bye. She released a heavy sigh after taking her first sip, her fingers tapped against the countertop as apprehension churned in her gut.

Maybe Ghost took their last conversation as motivation for him to actually leave.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her thumb and index finger, pushing her fingers together to pinch the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want their relationship – friendship – whatever they had, to end on that note. Fuck, I messed up.

She took a deep breath to regain composure. You don’t know if he’s gone. Andra decided she would go by after her run to the post office to pick up her package. With a quick rinse of her empty coffee mug, she headed to the front door to collect her keys and purse.

The sound of gravel crunching and a vehicle engine made her pause in her tracks. Her heart raced, she could feel her adrenaline dump. Her shaky hand moved aside the curtain to look out the window beside the door, and the sight of Ghost’s truck had her releasing a heavy breath.

It took everything in her not to throw the door open and run to him. She took another grounding breath and unlocked the door, opening it to Ghost preparing to knock.

Andra swore her heart was going to burst. The look in his eyes mirrored the same surprise she displayed. The discernible presence of a bandage wrapped around Ghost’s hand caught her attention in the corner of her eye.

He noticed where her eyes fell to, and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. “You got a minute to speak?”

His voice sounded like sandpaper. He looked just as sleep deprived as she felt. Andra couldn’t say anything, so she just nodded. She closed the door behind her and opted to sit on the wooden bench, leaving a space for Ghost to sit beside her. He never did, instead he decided to lean against the railing, his ankle crossed over the other.

Seconds passed before anything was said. “I’m not good with words, you’ll have to bear with me.”

Andra folded her legs beneath her and clasped her hands together. Her eyes remained on him as she waited to hear him out.

His head tilted down. “I gave a lot of thought to what you said, about losing your trust.” He rolled his neck, rolling the nerves and giving him a chance to think. “And I realized, taking a bullet is far less painful than that.”

Andra could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat underneath the fabric of his mask as he tilted his head back with closed eyes. She felt her throat tightening, and had to swallow to relieve the ache.

“So, I’ve come to terms with if I want to mend what I had with you, I’m going to have to find a way to tell you what you need to know.” Ghost’s eyes found hers, searching for a response.

She gave him a subtle nod, letting the words sink in. “How are you going to do that?”

Ghost uncrossed his ankles and took the two steps to sit beside her. It was a struggling few seconds for him to begin speaking. “Did you ever pick that book back up?”

Andra was confused by the approach he was taking, but went with it. “Yeah, I finished it actually.”

"Did the author talk about some of his assignments?" Ghost asked patiently.

She recalled what the author was able to talk about and reveal. "Not specifics, but he went in detail with Selection, and then the training thereafter and some events that happened in the 80s in Northern Ireland."

He nodded as he listened. "What did the training entail?"

"Physical training, a lot of sleep deprivation, weapons and vehicle tactics, photography, interrogation..." Andra's words drifted as she continued her recollection. She wouldn't say this out loud, but it was a dry read.

Ghost cut in at the mention of the last topic. "Interrogation, okay." His shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath, and his hands flexed over and over. "I've been on both ends of being interrogated. Not just in training, but out on the field." His red-rimmed eyes aged several decades, and her chest grew heavy. "And there were times the bars and stars – officers that outranked me and my team – had ordered us to let go of the person we had just roughed up.

"They were dangerous people, Andra, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Andra was piecing together why Ghost had given her that book to read. It was more than just what was on the surface. The selection process, the training, the assignments, the images in the book illustrating the teams with black lines redacting their eyes. It occurred to her then when she was reading it all, Ghost was another one of the SAS operatives that had an alias, he had paperwork with his name on it that contained redacted information on what he and his team had accomplished, but now discussing it all solidified it for her.

Not only him, but Johnny as well, and Johnny had brought up a few other names. People that were also special forces.

It was sobering. She never took the time to sit with all of this information and come to terms that these men had enemies that went deeper than just being from differing nations. Enemies that may or may not still be alive out there, preying on the downfall of the men she had come to know.

“Has anyone ever found you or Johnny?” Andra asked with a tremble in her throat.

“No.” He answered definitively. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

Andra nodded, as she fully agreed with him.

Ghost leaned back against the bench. “I truly never intended to alarm you and bring you to endless conclusions. I wish I could take it back, my foolishness, everything.”

“You can’t help that, though.” Andra defended. “It was a really messed up chain of events.”

There was a pregnant pause. “I have moments like these when there are too many coincidences happening at once. I’ve been working on how I handle it.”

Andra turned to him. “Do you… talk to someone about it?” She felt hesitant to ask.

Ghost’s eyes slid back to her. “Does that bother you?”

She shook her head swiftly. “No, oh Gods, no I didn’t mean it that way.” Her hands covered her face for a moment. “That was wrong of me to ask.”

Ghost reached for one of her hands. “You have every right to know, doll.” The calloused pad of his thumb brushed the top of her hand. She could feel a tremor in his touch.

It would have warmed her heart had it not been for the churning contrite souring her stomach. He had every right to know, too, but how would she even begin to tell him?

His injured hand was holding hers. She took this opportunity to distract herself from the guilt eating at her. “What happened to your hand?”

“Ridiculous accident with some glass.” He answered too quickly. Andra could feel him wanting to recoil, but he continued to let her hold his hand. Her peripheral vision gave her a peak of Ghost studying her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted.”

Andra let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. “I really haven’t been sleeping. Every little noise wakes me up, and I lay there for hours.”

Ghost’s eyes turned serious. “What can I do to remedy that?” Andra started to shake her head. “No, I’m responsible for this. Name it, I’ll do what I can.”

“I was actually on my way to go pick up a security system I ordered from the post office.” Andra raised her hand with her set of keys jingling.

Ghost stood from the bench, Andra followed in suit. “That I can do.”

Her smile returned. If it was one thing Andra was certain about Ghost, acts of service was how he communicated his apologies. It was easier to demonstrate with his hands than words.

After picking up the hefty box of camera and motion sensor equipment, Andra worked around the farm after her and Ghost discussed where the best places to set up the cameras would be. He got it done in less than a few hours, giving them time to pick up food together.

As they traveled, she remembered Johnny was waiting for an update from her.

Ghost is fine, we’re picking up food.

“So, you read the book in the past three days?” Ghost asked to start up chatter. Look who’s talking more now.

She hummed. “I read when I can’t sleep, and found it sitting there on the table before I locked up for bed.” Andra glanced at him. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” Her phone vibrated with a response.

Thank you.

Ghost shrugged. “I lay there hoping I fall asleep.”

“I would get so bored.” Andra confessed, tapping her hands on her thighs. “You don’t even scroll through Netflix or something to try and turn your brain off?”

“I don’t have Netflix.” He responded.

Andra shook her head and blinked. “Remind me to give you my login.”

“I don’t watch TV or movies.”

Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do watch movies, but they’re all old war movies or westerns on DVD.”

Andra narrowed her eyes. “What are you, fifty?”

Ghost chortled. “I have a while before I hit fifty, thank you for that.”

“How long is a while?” Andra smirked. “Five years or six months?” His mouth opened, but she kept going. “Wait, I bet you have M.A.S.H. all on DVD, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with M.A.S.H.” Ghost defended.

“Yeah, when you’re as old as my dad and watching it on your days off as you doze on the living room couch at eleven in the morning.”

“You’re pushing your luck, doll.” Ghost warned with a grin in his voice. “Let me put it this way, I joined the Royal Air Force after the events of 9/11.”

Andra’s face went slack and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She turned to the passenger window with a hand pretending to scratch the side of her head and wondered if he would be weirded out if she told him she was in grade school during 9/11.

Her silence was loud in the cabin. “We’re not that far apart in age if you know M.A.S.H.” Ghost resumed.

Andra raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I look old?”

“No.” His accent thickened as his voice dropped. “I didn’t say that.”

She was having too much fun busting his chops. “We have a tad bit of an age gap,” she demonstrated with her thumb and index finger with a small gap, “I’m a ninety’s baby.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Three years is a tad of an age gap, not a whole decade.”

Andra rolled her eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to in my thirties?” She laughed at the flash of astonishment as he panned a look at her. “I’m kidding! Well, kind of, but I’ll be thirty next summer.”

Ghost smoothed his hand over his covered mouth. “You’re killing me, woman.”

“Best stay on top of those heart meds then – ooh!” Andra shot forward and was caught by her seatbelt from Ghost slamming the breaks harder than normal. “You’re gonna cause an accident, sir.”

After a few beats of silence, Ghost changed the subject. “I hope the camera system will give you some peace of mind.”

“I’m sure it will.” She nodded with a hopeful smile.

Ghost ran inside the chip shop they ordered from while Andra sat in the truck to keep it running. Her head tilted back onto the head rest as she stared up at the roof of the truck. The lack of sleep was catching up to her, and now that there was less of a problem with surveillance around the farm, she felt the muscles in her shoulders relaxing.

The sudden sound of the driver door opening had her jerking back awake. She attempted to cover up the fact that she had dozed off in his truck with a little stretch of her legs.

Ghost handed her the bag of food without noticing her brief second of sleep and drove back to her house.

-----

“I get why you go to this place.” Andra spoke in between eating in the living room with him. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s also because Johnny has been getting us discounts from his little girlfriend.” Ghost wiped his mouth with a crumpled napkin.

Andra looked over the app on her phone that connected her to all of the cameras on her property. The feed looked really good, giving her confidence that she could point out important details if she ever had to. She switched to the camera that aimed at the dirt driveway with both trucks sitting outside. Her thumb and index finger spread across the screen to utilize the zoom feature; she was able to read off the license plate numbers from each truck.

“Thank you again for setting up the cameras.” Andra locked her phone and placed it down on the coffee table.

Ghost covered the lower half of his face back up with the balaclava as he finished his own meal. “Thank you for letting me.”

Her heart fluttered at the sudden drop in his voice. His eyes were set on her when she turned to look at him. Despite not being able to see his expression, she could feel a softness in his brown eyes.

“Let me get these out of the way.” Ghost insisted as he began to collect the takeout containers. Andra sucked down the last of her drink in her Styrofoam cup and tossed it into the bag Ghost was using.

Andra slipped a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “You staying for a little while?”

“I can.”

She felt some relief for having to spend less time by herself for the evening.

While Ghost did his thing, Andra browsed her bookshelf in search of a new read.

“Anything interesting?” Ghost asked as he returned.

Andra chose Dune from the shelf. “Maybe.” She returned to her designated reading lounge chair and curled her legs up. “How far did you get with The Outsiders?”

Ghost scratched the back of his head. “Maybe the first fifty pages.” Then, he tilted his head. “How did you know I had it?”

Andra smirked. “It was gone the following morning after you left.”

Did she have him flustered? The indecisive glance to the couch and back to the front door then back to the kitchen was amusing enough to have her grinning.

“I have it in the truck, actually. Be right back.” Ghost made his way outside, letting in a kissing, chilly breeze.

It must have been the book she chose, or the way she receded back into the cushions, but she felt the wave of sleepiness return back. Or maybe it was Ghost’s presence, knowing he was only a few feet away on the couch with Sammy next to him. He emitted an aura that Andra could only classify as comfort. Safety.

She knew he was safe to fall asleep around, she knew he would keep her safe.

Andra flinched out of the sleep she was slipping into and let out a disappointed sigh. Her book was still in her hand, but the pages were damp from the warmth of her fingers holding them in place. She closed the book, not worried about where she left off because she wasn’t paying attention anyway and softened her movements as she looked to her right.

Ghost’s head lulled to one side from the upright position he fell asleep in, his arms crossed over his chest and his own book sitting on the table with Sammy resting in her own bed by the window. The heavy breath he suck in and released told her he was deeper in that sleep than she was.

How is he sleeping with the mask on? Andra wondered.

With light movement, Andra rose from her chair and padded quietly to the hallway closet to retrieve a blanket. He looked as tired as she felt halfway through the day, and she wasn’t about to wake him up and send him home. She unraveled the blanket and moved to lay it over Ghost just above his arms and below his collarbone.

But his awareness was more keen than Andra had anticipated. Ghost reached out, throwing the blanket off and swiped her wrists single-handed. The room went spinning, and she let out a small yelp as her back met the bottom cushions of the couch, his grasp securing her wrists above her head.

Ghost’s eyes were wild with alert, then widened as he realized who he just wrestled down. It startled her at first, but out of nervousness a chortle escaped. Then a chuckle, and confusion wrinkled Ghost’s eyebrows.

She probably looked insane to him. She was supposed to be frightened, but all she was was dizzy. And too aware of how his body hovered over her. The grip on her wrists eased up but remained there. Her giggles dissipated, along with whatever she was about to say. She was too absorbed by Ghost’s eyes darting all over her face, and she wasn’t too sure, but she was almost certain he kept looking to her mouth.

Before Andra could register what she was doing, she pressed her lips against the teeth of the skull pattern on his mask, hitting her mark as she felt his lips beneath. Ghost pulled away like she had put his hand in an open flame, his eyes widened. Oh shit, what have I done –

His empty hand shoved up the fabric of his balaclava and he smashed his mouth against hers. Heat blazed through her face, molten liquid flooding her core as she took in every sensation overwhelming her. The fierce hunger of his kiss. The friction of their bodies pressed against each other. The solid grip Ghost had on her wrists.

She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her leg attempted to hook around his waist, but only succeeded in wrapping around a thigh that nestled its way between her legs.

He couldn’t pull himself away, and instead fed the part telling him to nudge his knee where she wanted it. Ghost freed her hands to grip the thigh pulling him in, giving her free reign to cradle his stubbled jaw. His fingertips worked divots into the fabric of her jeans, earning a small sound from her tightening throat.

Andra hoped there would be marks later left where he was squeezing.

Her tongue slipped out between her lips and playfully swiped across his mouth. Oh fuck, the sound that just came from him… Andra had never heard arousal so delicious before.

All of Ghost was crashing through her like a freight train. His taste, his heat, his sounds. Her head felt like it’s been shoved underwater, and she has no intentions surfacing for air. Not when drowning in all of him felt this good.

Ghost reciprocated her invitation and found his tongue pushing through the slit of her lips. She felt her own arousal winding tightly in her warmth. Anything more was likely going to set her off. There’s no way I’m coming just from this, she cursed herself.

Ghost pulled away, hit hot breath fanning over her face. He moved his free hand to his mask, but it remained there. One second, two seconds. His mouth slackened into a frown, lips parted with labored breathing. The trance had been broken between the two. He retreated from where he had Andra pressed into the couch, his hands ran down his face and stayed there as he battled with himself.

Andra adjusted her shirt as she sat up and gave him a nudge of space. “Hey,” she softly said as she brought his hands down, cradling them in her own. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” He rasped, breathless from their kiss. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” She took his hand away from his face and stroked his knuckles with her thumb.

Ghost blinked a few times like he was waking up from a dream. “I shoved my tongue in your mouth.” He stated, a little too forward. His words had heat rushing to her face. “The least I can do I show you who is beneath this.” He gestured to the mask covering half of his face, a bitterness in his words directed to his disguise.

Andra slowly raised her hands to the bottom half of his revealed face. He flinched away from the contact, but settled as she let her thumbs brush against the stubble on his jaw. She made no subtle movements; just exploring the craters and slits across his skin.

Ghost watched her silently, attentively, his eyes flickering back and forth. She can feel the intensity, a man questioning the intentions of the woman touching him, holding the privacy and secrecy he clings to. He sucked in a breath as she took hold of the balaclava and didn’t exhale until Andra had pulled it back down over his face.

“If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.” She affirmed.

His bandaged hand brushed Andra’s disheveled hair behind her ear. Ghost leaned in and pressed his covered mouth against her forehead. Andra gave him a meek grin as he pulled away.

Andra felt this moment building up to a goodbye, but she took his hand again. “You can stay here for the night. I don’t want you driving back even if it’s just down the street.”

He reached down on the floor and picked up the blanket. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll take up the couch-”

“Sleep on a bed, for gods’ sake.” Andra nodded her head to the stairs. “I have an extra room upstairs.”

Thankfully, Ghost didn’t argue. Heavy feet dragged themselves up the stairs, Sammy following them both. They took pause as both turned to each other from across the hall. There was so much she wanted to say, but the brief, drowsy goodnight that was exchanged had them retreating into their respective rooms. Andra leaned against the closed door, clouds in her head and lips swollen with the phantom sensation of their catalyst.

I've started up a taglist! comment if you want to get tagged for this story 🖤 likes & reblogs are wholeheartedly appreciated, your engagement helps new readers find me ✨

36 notes · View notes