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mreowsu · 2 days ago

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“green light!”

the game had barely started, and everyone had immediately resorted to the most basic survival tactic: hide behind someone bigger than you.

naturally, you found yourself positioned behind kunigami, the ginger stood like a brick wall between you and the robot’s unnerving gaze. you weren’t ashamed to admit it—your survival instincts were on point.

“red light!”

everyone stopped dead in their tracks, muscles stiff as statues. the faint sound of wind was the only thing accompanying the dubious silence.

your gaze glanced sideways, spotting gagamaru’s towering figure a few metres to your left, slightly ahead. behind him were otoya and karasu, then isagi. their line positioned in a staggered one. isagi was right beside you, his presence close enough that you could hear his unsteady breathing over the tense silence.

you locked eyes with him for a moment. his jaw was tight, his hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides. despite the tension radiating off him, he managed to force a shaky smile in your direction. “w-we’ve got this.” he whispered.

you nodded, the corners of your mouth tugged up in an encouraging gesture even as your heart pounded in your chest, “yeah. just.. keep moving when it's green.”

turning your attention back to the front, your gaze landed on kunigami’s broad back. the solid presence of his frame shielded you from the robot’s watchful eyes, giving you a moment to let your gaze wander again.

a little to the side, you spotted rin a few feet ahead. his posture was unnaturally rigid, every muscle in his body tense as a bowstring. his sharp gaze was fixed on the towering, unsettling figure of the robot girl, his expression carved from pure focus.

you couldn’t help but snicker, finding it almost funny—almost—that the the stoic perfectionist who always seemed unshakable, was showing cracks in his armor. maybe life-and-death situations were enough to rattle even him. though for some reason, seeing him fazed like that made your stomach churn uneasily.

“rin,” you called quietly, your voice laced with amusement as you kept your gaze fixed forward. “you okay up there? you look like you just saw someone miss an open goal.”

there was a beat of silence before shuffling feet sounded as the robot called out green light! giving rin a go to have at you in return. his voice was low and sharp, cutting through the air. “focus on yourself.”

“oh, i am,” you replied casually, jogging. “just can’t help but notice you’re looking a little... tense.”

kunigami coughed lightly in front of you, clearly suppressing a laugh, while bachira’s voice floated from behind rin. “aww, rin-chan, are you nervous? want me to hold your hand?”

“shut up,” rin snapped, his tone betraying just a hint of exasperation.

“guys,” isagi hissed. “this is life or death! can you stop?”

“rin started it.”

“keep my name out of your mouth,” rin bit out, his voice still low but tinged with a noticeable edge.

“you’re so touchy today,” you teased, your grin widening. “don’t tell me you’re actually scared, rin.”

“you talk a lot for someone hiding behind a ginger,” rin muttered.

“hey, nothing’s wrong, though,” someone from behind chimed in. “you do look a little pale, rin.”

“i’m surrounded by idiots,” rin muttered under his breath, his gaze never wavering from the finish line ahead.

the tension of the situation should’ve been suffocating, but somehow, the banter made it almost bearable. even so, you couldn’t shake the smug satisfaction of seeing rin so out of sorts.

“don’t worry, rin,” you called softly. “i’ll make sure to win this game for you.”

“if you don’t shut up,” rin growled, his voice dripping with irritation, “i’ll make sure the robot gets you first.”

you stifled a laugh, already planning to milk his reaction for all it was worth. itoshi rin, flustered? you’d live off this moment for weeks.

“red light!”

everyone froze mid-step, not daring to breathe as the robot’s glowing eyes swept across the group. you could feel the tension in kunigami’s broad shoulders as he stood perfectly still.

“green light!”

the voice was loud and jarringly normal. everyone froze—not because the robot girl had said it, but because you all realized it wasn’t her.

“bachira meguru,” you hissed from behind kunigami. “what the hell are you doing?!”

bachira’s voice rang out again, playful and completely unbothered. “i figured it might work! y’know, confuse everyone into running so they’d get caught! more prize money for us!”

everyone collectively groaned.

“you really thought someone was gonna fall for that?” isagi exclaimed toward bachira, laughing.

you heard a yawn from your right—nagi caught up, surprisingly, despite being half-asleep on his feet up until this point. “that’s way too much effort, man.”

your head whipped towards his voice, muffled because of his bent arm, spotting reo with chigiri behind him and a few others trailing behind nagi’s six foot three ass.

you couldn't help but snort at nagi's lazy comment. "you're still half asleep, aren't you?" you teased, trying to keep your voice light despite the rising tension.

nagi, not even trying to hide the yawn that followed. "yeah, but i mean, why run when you can just stand and look pretty, right?" his eyes were half-closed, clearly still not fully awake. reo rolled his eyes, but you could see the faint twitch at the corners of his mouth—he was trying not to laugh.

"just don’t trip on your own feet, nagi," reo warned, “and for god’s sake, stay alert. this could actually kill us.”

"yeah, yeah," nagi mumbled, barely registering the seriousness of the situation. it seemed like nagi was the only one who didn’t take the life-or-death nature of the game seriously, much to everyone else’s growing concern.

reo, leaning slightly toward chigiri, couldn’t help but smirk, his lips curling at the absurdity of bachira's antics earlier.. “i mean, give him points for creativity?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“no, don’t give him points,” chigiri shot back instantly, brushing his hair out of his face. “he’s just… stupid.”

“hey!” bachira’s voice floated somewhere from the front, “it was worth a try!”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to whisper. "worth a try? you almost got us all killed, stupid."

isagi, who had been eerily quiet up until that point, muttered under his breath, “i swear, if he gets us killed, i’m never speaking to him again.”

“yeah, obviously because you’d be dead.”

kunigami, from behind the bend of his arm, similar to nagi’s, sighed deeply. “bachira, focus. this isn’t the time for jokes. you’ll get us all killed.”

“pfft,” you snorted. “honestly, i think the robot girl’s gonna get fed up with him first and self-destruct.”

“you guys are so boring!” bachira complained, though the grin in his voice was unmistakable. “c’mon, loosen up a little! it’s just a game!”

“a game that could literally kill us,” chigiri muttered.

“honestly, you’re gonna be the first one out,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“bold of you to assume,” bachira replied, clearly enjoying the banter.

“green light!”

you all moved forward and fortunately this time, it wasn't from bachira. everyone did their best to stifle their laughs, well, everyone except bachira, who naturally didn’t stay silent.

“i bet if i were the robot, i’d be way cooler,” he whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “like, imagine me with glowing yellow eyes—”

“imagine you shut up,” rin interjected.

bachira gasped dramatically. “rin! you wound me!”

“you deserve it,” chigiri added dryly, though you could see his lips twitching as if he was trying not to laugh.

“focus, people!” kunigami said from the front.

“yeah, megs,” you teased. “or you’ll get caught and end up being the first eliminated. won’t that be embarrassing?”

bachira’s grin widened. “if i go down, i’m taking rin with me.”.

“red light!”

“try it,” rin’s lips twitched, teal eyes narrowing, “you’ll look like an idiot.”

the robot’s head snapped in his direction, and everyone held their breath.

your heart thundered in your chest, and you felt isagi tense beside you, his trembling fists tightening. the air felt suffocating as the robot scanned the area, its glowing eyes eerily sweeping over the frozen group.

rin, despite his insult, remained as still as a statue. his sharp gaze stayed forward, jaw set as if daring the robot to pick him out.

“idiot,” you whispered under your breath, barely audible but enough to feel the weight of your own nerves.

the robot’s glowing eyes lingered for what felt like an eternity before its head snapped forward again with a loud mechanical click.

“green light!”

the announcement jolted you back to the present. you tailed behind kunigami as usual, feet kicking up along with the other's heavy pitter-pattering across the barren, dusty hellhole of a playground you could call this place.

“close one,” isagi whispered.

“are you trying to die?” you hissed at rin once you reached him, your eyes narrowing at his back as you started moving forward again, your steps cautious but steady.

“calm down,” rin muttered, not even bothering to look at you. “it wasn’t me it was looking at.”

you raised an eyebrow, your steps matching his pace as you jogged side by side. “sure, because you’re not the only one dumb enough to move their mouth while it’s watching, huh?”

“shut up,” rin snapped, his shoulders stiffening as if he were bracing for another round of the robot’s red light.

“is that your secret? being too cool to be scared?” you teased, trying to break the tension, though you were just as unnerved as the rest of them.

he didn’t answer, but you could feel his frustration rolling off him in waves.

“you’d be surprised,” nagi chimed in lazily from behind, his voice low and unimpressed. “all this stopping and starting is too much effort.”

otoya, a few paces to your left, let out a quiet snort. “then drop out and save us all the trouble.”

“guys, focus!” isagi’s voice cut through the banter, sharp but still shaky.

you glanced sideways at him. he was staring straight ahead, his jaw still tight, but his expression was filled with sheer determination. “just… let’s just make it through this round, okay?”

“you heard captain sweat,” karasu muttered, though his tone was more amused than mocking.

you bit back a laugh as you kept your focus on kunigami’s broad back in front of you.

as you moved with the rest of the group, you spared a glance at rin’s line and ultimately to bachira, who’s grin was alarmingly wide and mischievous.

“bachira, for the love of god, don’t—” you began, but it was too late.

“red light!” his voice rang out loud and clear, way too chipper for the situation.

immediately, the entire group froze, you colliding into kunigami’s back.

“bachira, you absolute idiot,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you found yourself awkwardly pressed against kunigami’s back. watching as everyone stayed perfectly still, except for a few suppressed giggles that began to bubble up around you.

the tension that had been building in the air snapped like a taut wire, and you could practically feel the collective irritation coming from a few as they fell for bachira's stupid antics.

kunigami, who had barely flinched at the sudden contact, turned his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. "you okay?" he whispered, his tone low but firm.

"yeah, just—" you were about to say something when you heard the robot’s actual whirring cut in again, too loud for comfort.

“red light!”

everyone froze again, some of the more nervous players holding their breath. you almost couldn’t help yourself, your gaze flicking over to bachira’s still figure, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing. he was the kind of guy to turn even a life-or-death situation into a game, and for better or worse, it seemed to be working.

you turned your attention back to the front, scanning the robot’s movements. its gaze swept over the group once more. you couldn’t risk moving even a fraction, not with the way its glowing eyes were trained on you all.

"that idiot’s gonna get us caught," you muttered, barely loud enough for isagi to hear beside you.

he nodded, lips pressed tightly together as his gaze remained straight ahead. "tell me about it," he whispered back, his hand flexing into a fist at his side.

a few seconds passed—an agonizing eternity. then, finally, the robot’s gaze moved forward again, its head tilting slightly to the side. the oppressive silence felt like it would stretch on forever. then the mechanical voice crackled again.

“green light!”

no one moved, but you could feel the relief flood through the group like a wave. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, and slowly, the tension eased just a little.

"are you all trying to die?" kunigami muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated but still in control. he kept his gaze forward, eyes scanning the robot’s position and the timer lessening by the second.

"not if meguru has anything to say about it," you quipped, glancing over toward the culprit who was grinning ear to ear.

“hey, i’m just having fun!” bachira grinned, jogging like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“yeah, well, save the fun for later, alright?” you retorted, shaking your head with an exasperated sigh.

isagi couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “hey, i thought it’d work! i was just trying to throw off the competition!” bachira replied with a shrug, completely unbothered.

“idiot,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

“seriously, though,” isagi murmured as he caught up to your left, both of you jogging. “how is it that we’re about to die and it’s still chaos with these guys?”

“it’s called team spirit, yoichi,” you said with a grin.

“more like team stupidity,” rin muttered.

“admit it, though. you’re all having fun!” bachira said, though his voice sounded a little too distant for your comfort.

the finish line loomed ahead, a distant promise just beyond reach, teasing everyone with its nearness yet still just out of grasp. you all managed a good feet ahead before—

“red light!”

everyone immediately shut up, your bodies locking into position. your eyes quickly darted forward, and there he was. bachira had broken away from rin’s group entirely, he had been mid-gesture, stood frozen in what looked like an interpretive dance pose.

“what the hell is he doing?” you muttered under your breath, incredulous.

“he’s free-for-alling it,” isagi hissed from his spot nearby, his tone somewhere between disbelief and frustration. “why does that idiot always have to make things harder for himself?”

“probably thinks it’s more fun this way,” you replied, shaking your head.

from his spot up front, rin turned his head slightly, catching sight of bachira out of the corner of his eye. his expression darkened instantly. “get back in line, you moron,” he barked, though his voice was muffled from his bent arm, he sure still sounded seething with irritation.

bachira only stood a bit farther ahead, ignoring rin’s increasingly panicked orders. “relax, rin-chan! i’ve got this.” he exclaimed through the muffle of his sleeve. his carefree attitude was getting under everyone’s skin, especially rin’s.

a faint shuffle broke through and your heart dropped to your ass.

“no, you don’t, you absolute idiot!” rin snapped, his voice growing louder.

“who moved?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked around, eyes wide in concern.

"not me," nagi muttered from behind you, his voice barely above a whisper. he, too, was clearly on edge, his usual laid-back demeanor nowhere to be found.

but before anyone could respond, rin snapped again, louder than before, filled with a desperate edge. “seriously , bachira, get back in line!”

“rin, keep it down!” you hissed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “you’ll get the both of you killed!”

your gaze flicking between rin and bachira. you shot a glare at both of them, silently cursing bachira’s stupidity and rin’s inability to keep his temper in check.

"shut it, both of you!" kunigami’s voice rang out low but firm from ahead, his back stiff. he had clearly had enough of the bickering, just as everyone else did. "focus! or we’ll all be screwed."

your breath caught in your throat as a strangled yelp echoed throughout the field. silently praying it was none of your stupid-ass friends tripping on their own feet. you turned your head just in time to see a fellow contestant—a stranger, someone you didn’t know—take a hesitant, trembling step forward, his fear betraying him.

you immediately felt your shoulders sag in relief.

though before you could relish at the thought of your friends safe, the robot’s eyes locked onto him.

bang.

the sound of the gunshot echoed across the field, loud and final.

then, you heard it—a loud thud, followed by a sickening splat.

the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

the air around you turned ice cold. all traces of humor evaporated as everyone stared at the lifeless body, the reality of the game sinking in.

“holy shit,” isagi muttered under his breath, his voice shaking.

“fuck!” someone near you swore, eyes wide with panic. you couldn’t be too bothered to turn in their direction, your gaze lingered on the pool of blood, slowly soaking into the sand, the dark stain spreading like a cruel reminder of this stupid game. barely discernible in the midst of it all, a faint twitch stirred the lifeless form, a ghost of motion in a world that had already moved on.

your heart pounded in your chest as the blood drained from your face. you could still hear the echo of that shot in your ears, the chilling sound that meant someone was just gone. just like that.

the air was thick with tension, and you could almost taste the fear in the silence that followed.

“oh my god..” chigiri muttered from beside you, shaking with disbelief. his head snapped to where the gunshot previously rang. though from where he was situated, you assumed he could barely manage to see the lifeless leg of the man.

you swallowed hard, trying to push the knot in your throat down. this wasn’t a game anymore. it wasn’t fun. the faces around you were tense, their eyes wide with fear, their bodies rigid with dread. seeing the terror etched into the faces of those you held dear—your friends, your companions—pierced you deeper than any of the gunshots could. eyes darting back and forth, calculating, terrified. no one said a word, but everyone’s thoughts were screaming the same thing: am i next?

“green light!”

a strangled breath escaped your lips, and you forced yourself to focus—on the finish line, on your team, on the ones still moving, on the fragile thread of hope you were clinging to. your eyes locked with rin’s for a split second, and in the teal of his gaze, you saw it: fear, raw and unmasked, mirroring the terror clawing at your insides.

but there was something else too—something more, a flicker of resolve, burning steady like a candle in the wind. a silent promise. we’re getting out of here.

it was so unlike him, this vulnerability paired with defiance, and it stirred something deep and unsettling in you. the realization that even someone as unshakable as rin was rattled left you breathless.

you were scared shitless.

still, you nodded at him, a small movement, just enough to let him know you were all in this together. no matter what happened, you’d keep moving forward. but deep down, a part of you couldn’t shake the horror of what you’d just witnessed. another part whispered that this wasn’t just about winning anymore.

you slowly took another step forward, you could hear the others around you moving too, their footsteps muffled by the growing unease in the air. the moment was still fragile, tense, but somehow you all pushed ahead.

the faint shuffle of someone else’s footstep caught your attention, and you tensed, your eyes snapping to the figure just a few steps ahead of you. you saw bachira’s familiar smile, though this time softer, like a comforting reminder that your friends we’re still here. eyes gleaming despite the dark circumstances. he gave you a wink. cheer up.

but when you looked back toward the robot, the weight of what just happened made the air feel thicker, suffocating. you clenched your fists, forcing your mind to focus.

focus. keep moving. don’t stop.

with a deep breath, you steadied your legs, pushing forward. you had to keep moving. for your friends. for your survival.

* * * * *

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lonesilverw0lf · 3 days ago

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I had this other idea right after I posted the first Mom Friend idea, only to find several more posts already made! It’s all amazing work too, I’m kinda jealous. Either I’m slow as hell, or y’all write too damned fast! Either way, didn’t wanna throw this away so here it is. Please enjoy!

Mom friend(now shortened to Mama) and Tomboy are sharing a cup of tea when Tomboy gets sleepy all of a sudden. Mama leads her to a room where MC has been knocked unconscious and dropped into a bed. Quickly putting Tomboy into the bed with MC, she covers them with a blanket and closes the room.

Goth, standing right by the door: Do you have to do that? And how did you snag MC in the first place? I didn’t even know he was here.

Mom: Oh MC was actually because of Bully and Track Girl bringing him in. It was Bully’s idea apparently. I was surprised too. Almost made my eyes open. I just wish MC wasn’t literally dragged in with all those lumps on his head. I’m sure Bully thought it was necessary, and he’s probably right, but still…

Goth: That still doesn’t explain why you essentially drugged Tomboy and locked them in a room together. Trying to play matchmaker?

Mama: What? Can you blame me? Those two are cute. Oh I sure underestimated the strength of the sleeping herbs in the tea, that’s on me. Not like I could tell how strong they were with MC being half unconscious when I gave some to him in the first place. They’ll both be out for the rest of the day at least. They both need their rest and if anyone can help MC with his anxiety it’s- wait. Are you jealous?

Goth: Jealous? What? Now you’re being dumb.

Mama: You’re jealous that they’re cuddling like we used to! You’re feeling lonely!

Goth: Now you’re delusional.

Mama, squishing Goths face: If you wanted some attention you just have to ask! It’s not like I can deny my precious twin sister anything in the whole world!

Goth, swatting Mamas hands away: No! Go away! We haven’t done that since we were like seven!

Mama, wrapping Goth up in a hug: It’s perfectly normal to want some loving! Studies show that a healthy mind and body needs a minimum of four hugs a day for just surviving, eight for maintenance, and twelve for growth. When was the last time you got hugged since we were summoned here? You must be deep in hugging withdrawal!

Goth, groaning into her hands: What did I do in a past life to get cursed with you as a sister?

Mama: Oh don’t be a Grumpy Joe! You know you love me!

Goth: He was such a good kitty. Had the stupidest face.

Mama: We’ll I’m sure it wasn’t his fault he had a medical condition that made his face scrunch like that. Cmon, let’s go take a bath! I’ll wash your back~!

Goth, squirming out of Mama’s hug: No. Get away from me you perv.

Mama, smirking and in a dramatically flowery story voice: “‘Oh please Edward, not there! Not now!’ Shania moaned, ‘We can’t be doing this!’ But Edwards hands refused to stop, as if they had a mind of their own. Her breath hitched as he-“

Goth, now mortified: You read that?!

Mama: You’re the one who posted it on wattpad ya goob! And those two other websites! You also should do a better job looking after your creative journal. The amount of places I’ve found it out in the open, oh dear~. I must say, for someone who claims to be ‘one of the darkness’ you are pretty innocent in love and even your perverse fantasies are mild! Oh wait, you did write that one about that modern Duke and his ‘fun room’. Although that was pretty mellow too. Where did you get the inspiration? I know you haven’t read 50 Shades, so where did you- did you sneak into mom’s stash again?

Goth, trying to pull her hair out: Argh! You and dad both! That’s it! You just volunteered yourself to be my first cursed subject! Where’s that rat?! I need a sacrifice!

Mama, grabbing Goth by the shoulders and pushing her down the hall: You’re so tense! It’s not like I told them! Cmon, after a nice hot bath I’ll treat you to a nice massage~! Oh? And perhaps an adjustment, your cervical vertebrae don’t feel right. What have you been using for a pillow?

Skater Boy, seated at a table with Queen Bee and Flower Girl, his eyes following them and locked onto Mama’s dump truck of an ass: Now I’m jealous.

Queen bee grabs him by the ear: Now you knock it off! It’s disgusting to see men lusting after Mama! Especially a slacker like yourself!

Skater grabs her nose: Don’t gimme that crap! I see you girls ogling her just as much as any guy! Probably even more so since you all share a locker room! And don’t act like you don’t drool whenever us guys have to train without shirts on!

Flower girl: He’s not wrong Bee, on both counts. And it’s not like any of us would turn down one of Mama’s massages either. Still boggles my mind that those two are twins. They look nothing alike and I get mistaken for any three of my sisters all the time! My younger brother a few times too.

Skater, rubbing his ear: Eh wait til he hits puberty and then that’ll stop. Genetics are weird sometimes. I still get told that I look like my great uncle when he was my age. It’s more shocking to see Goth make those kinda faces. Only Mama can pull anything out of her. She’s so cooly collected with anyone else.

Bee, rubbing her nose: Me and my cousin are often mistaken for sisters too. It might help that our moms are sisters in the first place. Oh Skater, what were you doing out so late last night for?

Skater: Hm? Oh right! Thanks for reminding me. Here Flower, I was checking out the area for those weird plants that you were talking about.

Flower: What weird plants? I’m don’t- *le gasp* a whole bag of knucklebrom weed?! With the seeds and the flowers and roots and everything?!

Skater: MC helped me figure out where to even get some. He was just as lost as to why you wanted them in the first place.

Flower, smiling manically: Oh all the potions I can make with you~! Mix in some iodine, some powdered crows beak, maybe if I- *continues rambling on*

Skater, deadpan to Bee: She is such a Maomao when it comes to her plants and alchemy it’s not even funny.

Bee, equally deadpan: How has she not seen Apothecary Diaries? That would be right up her alley. Kinda looks like her too.

Skater: Throw a kimono on her, give her a haircut, get rid of her glasses, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Bee: If Netflix ever wants to do a live action of that show, and part of me prays that they won’t, but if they do they better cast her as Maomao.

Skater: You’re kidding? We talking the same Netflix?

Bee: Nah, you’re right. They’ll completely fuck it up.

Some minor backstory to the new characters

Skater boy is a slacker without a real direction in life, stays out of trouble but isn’t very dependable. Chill and easygoing, largely nonthreatening, puts in the bare minimum of work to have a good time or just vibe, got that 90s ‘yo dudes’ surfer vibe. This trip has been giving him the kick in the ass he needs.

Flower Girl runs her family’s flower shop and greenhouse with her siblings. Busy as a bee type, but only among plants and on a schedule who follows the rules to a tee. She’s becoming more confident and now is trying new things, even bending some rules. Having an alchemy instructor that’s half mad due to a few too many screwed up recipes blowing up in his face will do that to someone. Just hope she doesn’t absorb too much of his insanity.

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

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rindreamery · 2 days ago

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hiiiiii. congrats on 300follwrs 🫶🫶🫶 about your event can i request karasu tabito, sweet, kiss on the lips, rivals to lovers if not taken^.^ xo

ORDER 9: READY TO GO !

karasu + sweet + kiss on the lips + rivals to lovers w.c. 1k+

note. this took forever and is lowk booty cheeks 😭 literally right when i gained motivation to write this, got hit with a fever and couldn't write for a few days, and then forgot the plot that i initially thought of for this fic. so here we are... many days later... but i tried my best !!

interested in more? check out the lounge !

group projects are, admittedly, the bane of your existence.

but your professor loved to dish them out every chance they had, much to your dismay, under the pretense of “helping you form bonds with your peers.” though, it was always the same cycle; agree to work on the project on your own, piece together a slideshow or document using your individual work, turn it in, and hope for the best. in the end, your relationships with your peers remain the same, sometimes worse than before. not friends, simply classmates trying to survive the class, together or not.

finding yourself stuck in, yet another, project, it takes everything in you to bite back a loud sigh. mentally, you’re throwing darts at a board with your professor standing in front of it. physically, you’re stuck in the library, late into the hours of the afternoon (when you could be taking a nap), endlessly researching about some topic that you, honestly, could care less about.

but that, itself, isn’t the root of the issue.

writing a project about the effects of dopamine on love should not be complicated. well, at least, not more complicated than just pulling up research articles and getting a few quotes to meet your citation quotas. your issue, more or less, was with your assigned partner. him— karasu.

not that he was a bad person— no, quite the opposite, actually. he was perfect in a way that was so infuriating to you. anything you could do? he could do faster, more efficiently, and produce better results. he could put in half the effort and still come out with something that rivaled, or even topped, your work. that bothered you, and his nonchalance about it all only added to your growing frustrations.

group projects were the bane of your existence, and he was a close second.

even now, as he sits in front of you, doing nothing— he is frustrating. though, you can't explain why.

“if ya stop staring...” his voice slices right through your thoughts. he says it so casually, flipping through his notebook, ignoring the way your glare digs deep into his skin. “dopamine’s what makes people feel good, right?”

“yes,” comes your initial, curt, response. you can’t help the way your eye twitches at his tone, tracking his every move as he actively avoids looking back at you. his eyes are locked onto his notes in front of him, but you know better— he’s not actually reading them. “but it’s also a lot more complicated than that. dopamine affects a lot of things, like our reward systems and motivation. but if we’re talking strictly in the context of love, it’s what makes us feel that rush of excitement when we’re around someone we like.”

he hums at that, pretending to mull over your words. “got any personal experience?”

his question catches you off-guard, and for a second, you find yourself tripping over your words. “what— why do you care? you don’t need to know that.”

“no need to get all defensive.” he responds, once again in that casual tone of his, but mildly amused at the way you react to him. like he’s getting a kick out of making you flustered over his words. "i’m just thinking, to understand how dopamine affects how we see someone, we need to get some real-world data. like, experience it first-hand."

karasu finally looks up from his notes, and he raises a brow at you, anticipating your response.

you see right through him— a lie. this type of research project didn’t require personal understanding, rather, understanding gained from reading other sources. yet, oddly enough, you find yourself entertaining the idea. intrigued. “experience it first-hand? you want me to act as your lab rat or something?”

“well, ya are pretty much the perfect lab rat.” and your mouth opens to retort, but he flashes you a half-smile, that shuts you right up. though, teetering closer to that signature smirk of his. “because ya hate my guts. we can test to see if dopamine can make ya hate me less.”

you blink at him, blankly.

you're gauging for any sign that he’s messing with you, but he doesn’t backpedal on his words. rather, he sits there, chin propped in the palm of his hands as he waits for you to respond. (but it’s hard to, not when your mind is drawn to the way your heart stutters at his insinuation. an unexpected, and unwelcome, reaction from you.) "so, what? you’re suggesting we kiss or something?”

“ya said it, not me.” karasu shrugs, finally straightening his posture out and getting up from his chair. “purely for research purposes, of course.”

there’s another beat of silence as you wait for him to crack— to tell you that he’s simply messing with you. then, the two of you could go back to doing this cursed project, potentially finish it in one go, and never have to meet up ever again. but he doesn’t, and the silence draws into something more uncomfortable the longer it goes on.

“wait, are you... are you being serious right now?” you asked, your eyes widening as you look at him in disbelief.

“science is science,” is all he offers to you.

you could feel your face heat up, the warmth crawling from the base of your neck and up, and you’re sure your cheeks are sporting a bright shade of red. it takes a few seconds for you to gather yourself, not willing to back down, but in the end, all you can muster is, “fine— for science.”

his grin widens at that, and before you could second-guess your choice, he’s planting his hands on the table and leaning in.

yet, despite his rough approach, the kiss is soft— tentative, almost. his lips are barely brushing against yours, and you could still feel his shallow breaths as he refuses to make that last push to connect the two of you. he's simply hovering over you, almost urging you to make that decision, giving you that choice to back out of it if you wanted to.

all you can focus on is the rapid beat of your heart in your ears, the warmth emanating off of his lips that are so close, yet so far from yours. the logical, karasu-hating part of you is yelling at you to pull away, to get it together. but you don’t.

you close the distance between the two of you, locking your lips in a shallow, but sweet, kiss. full of nerves, from the way your lips freeze up against one another, not knowing where to go from there. the confidence he held washes away in that fraction of a second; his elbows buckle underneath him, caught off-guard by the feeling of your lips, pulling the two of you apart.

it’s brief, barely considered a kiss, but your reaction to him is undeniable. the way your heart pumps just a little harder, the tiny, electric sparks coursing through your veins, or the way you found yourself chasing after his lips as he pulled away.

the two of you stay silent, but you find that he's grinning at you— differently, this time. in a way you can't quite explain.

"hate me any less now?"

#ᯓ★ nishi's dessert lounge .ᐟ #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #karasu tabito #karasu tabito x reader #tabito karasu #karasu x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff

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cosmiclily · 2 days ago

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.ᐟ track one: can you see me using everything to hold back?

wc: 1k

cw: talk about death of parents (literally one sentence)

the first time we met, the first thing I noticed about vi was her ridiculous haircut and how she had the most beautiful blue eyes i had ever seen (which wasn’t saying much, considering I was only 10). i instantly wanted to be her friend. but my mom had told me that she and powder were still adjusting and their situation was a little delicate since they had just lost their parents. so, i held myself back as much as I could.

three weeks later, when the adoption papers were signed by vander and they officially became his daughters, i was given the mission of helping the girls feel at home. they were very shy at first, but ekko and i helped them, and in no time, vander’s house had become their home. from then on, vi and I became the best of friends. i covered for her when she got into fights at school, we studied together, played together, we were basically inseparable.

i remember one afternoon not long after the adoption. vi was sitting on the roof, kicking her legs idly and staring at the stars. she looked lost in thought. I hesitated for a moment, not sure if i should bother her, but eventually, i walked over and sat beside her.

“what’re you doing out here all by yourself?” i asked, trying to sound casual.

“just thinking,” she said, her voice quiet. she didn’t look at me, but her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “it’s weird, you know? having a new home.”

i didn’t know what to say to that, so i just nodded. “yeah, I guess it would be.”

she finally looked at me, her gaze piercing but soft “do you think it’ll get easier?”

i smiled, trying to reassure her even though I wasn’t sure myself. “yeah, i think so. you’ve got vander now. and powder. and… me.”

she smiled for the first time that day. “you’re not too bad, I guess.”

i laughed. “not too bad? wow, thanks for the compliment.”

──────────────────────

life couldn’t have been better—until we got to high school and vi had a growth spurt and became insufferable. not only did she get taller and figure out how to manage her hair, but she also developed a sense of style and made it her mission to break every heart in zaun. Suddenly, every hallway we walked down was filled with girls trying to catch her attention, and she seemed to enjoy it.

one day, as we walked home together, i couldn’t help but tease her about it.

“you know, you’ve got a fan club now,” i said, smirking.

vi raised an eyebrow. “a fan club? what are you talking about?”

i gestured back towards the school. “those girls who basically tripped over themselves trying to say hi to you. pretty sure one of them nearly fainted when you smiled at her.”

she laughed, a confident sound that only made her more infuriating. “can i help it if people think i’m charming?”

i rolled my eyes. “charming, not so sure. annoying? definitely.”

she bumped her shoulder against mine, her grin widening. “admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around.”

i looked away, trying to hide the flush on my cheeks. “yeah, right. you’re just my backup for when ekko’s busy.”

“liar,” she said, laughing again.

i shouldn’t have cared about any of that, but my brain decided it would be a fantastic idea to fall in love with her. so, every time she had a girl around—whether it was someone new she was flirting with or a girlfriend she brought home—i had to pretend life was great and that it didn’t affect me at all.

it got harder as time went on. every stolen glance at her became more unbearable, every casual touch felt like torture, and every time i saw her with someone else, it felt like a reminder that she’d never look at me the way I wanted her to. but i couldn’t show it, couldn’t let her or anyone else know how I felt. i was scared our friendship would suffer the consequences of my feelings, so i buried it deep, pretending that everything was fine.

which it was, it actually became second nature by the time we moved in together for college.

our apartment was small but comfortable, and vi's personality seemed to fill every corner. she had insisted on hanging a crooked poster of a rock band that jinx had gifted her—a band she loved—in the living room, despite all my protests.

“it’s not crooked,” she argued, stepping back and tilting her head. “it’s artistic.”

“it’s crooked,” i said, crossing my arms. “fix it or i’m taking it out.”

vi grinned at me. “if i fix it, where’s the fun in watching you suffer?”

“you’re impossible.”

“you love me,” she said casually, turning to grab her drink from the counter. my heart stuttered, and I quickly looked away before she could see my face.

“unfortunately” i said, but it came out without the bite intended.

──────────────────────

late one night, we were sitting on the balcony, watching the city lights. vi leaned back in her chair, her legs propped up on the railing, as she stared up at the sky.

“do you ever think about what’s next?” she asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“what do you mean?” i asked, sipping my coffee.

“like… after college. what we’re gonna do. where we’ll end up.” she looked at me then, her expression softer than usual. “do you think we’ll still be close?”

the question caught me off guard, and I had to force myself to answer without hesitating. “of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

she shrugged, her gaze drifting back to the stars. “i don’t know. life happens. people drift apart.”

“not us,” i said firmly, surprising even myself. “we’ve been through too much. you’re stuck with me, violet.”

she smiled, her eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “good. i like having you around.”

my chest tightened, and I looked away before she could see the way her words affected me. “someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

“hey, I’m a model citizen,” she teased, laughing. “you’re the bad influence here.”

i laughed too, even though the ache in my heart lingered. she had no idea the effect she had on me.

──────────────────────

album - track 2

notes: chapter one heehee, english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry for any mistakes!! this is basically just an introduction for the characters not much plot going on but i hope you guys enjoyed either way !!

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader #lily writes

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 3 days ago

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A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 17

You can read previous chapters here.

Summary: Y/n and Nesta’s presence is required at the River House, where two important announcements are made. This time, Y/n decides to not interfere with the dangerous choices her sisters are making. Later, a sparring session between Azriel and Cassian sparks an idea in Y/n.

WC: 2.8K.

There were two kinds of people after a fight. Those who let everything out before exhaustion took over and those who resorted to… other ways. After Elain’s visit, Y/n and Nesta were clearly upset. While Azriel stayed and listened to Y/n pour her heart out, unmoving as she tried to make him leave, Nesta and Cassian chose to resolve their feelings through other, more physical means, further complicating their relationship instead of resolving it.

At breakfast, Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta were seated at the dining table when Y/n entered. Today, she had no energy at all. She didn’t care that Nesta was in the room and just took a seat silently. Azriel was mid-question when she sat down. “Did something happen that I, as your chaperone, should know about?”

Y/n glanced between her sister and Cassian, and then it hit her. Cassian’s scent still carried traces of arousal. It was no secret that he was pinning after Nesta, but today something had shifted.

Azriel informed them that the three of them were to head to the River House. He hadn’t told Y/n that night before- granted, it hadn’t been the right moment, but still, this sudden summons felt overwhelming. She was not ready to face her family again, especially not after yesterday.

“Is it necessary?” Y/n asked, trying not to think about how vulnerable she’d been in front of Azriel less than a day ago.

“Yes. Rhys requires everyone there.”

When they arrived, everyone was already gathered, except for Elain and Mor. Cassian went to kiss Feyre’s cheek, but a shield encased her.

Azriel updated them on what he’d discovered. The mortal queen, Briallyn- the one who’d emerged old and cruel after leaping into the Cauldron, the one who wanted Y/n and Nesta dead, was after the Dread Trove: the three powerful, dark objects capable of granting their wielder unparalleled power. Y/n had never bothered to learn her name until today.

Briallyn’s pursuit of the Trove signaled that the threat of war was once again looming. Ever since Feyre had been turned Fae, it felt as though war and ruin constantly lurked on the horizon. Y/n was sick of it- all of it.

Y/n remained silent throughout the meeting, while Nesta asked questions about these objects.

When they discussed warning the other Courts, they decided against it. Despite claiming to want peace, they never acted like it. Y/n wondered how they’d feel if another court came across this information and withheld it from them.

Their plan was to track the three objects now and then Elain appeared, peering in from the doorway. “Use me,” she said.

Nesta shot to her feet, instantly protesting. Y/n remained silent. If Elain wanted to risk herself, then so be it. She wasn’t going to meddle in their lives anymore.

The two sisters argued until Amren suggested Nesta search for it instead. Y/n wondered if that was all a trap to get her or Nesta to do their dirty work, sparing Elain in the process. The two sisters exchanged some hurtful words and Y/n remained standing like a stone, even when Nesta glanced at her multiple times, a silent plea for help.

“It wasn’t an easy choice for me to ask Elain to endanger herself like that,” Feyre admitted.

And there it was, she might not have said it directly, but everyone would prefer if Y/n or Nesta endangered themselves instead of Elain.

“Why can’t you do it? You’re made and you have all this magic,” Nesta snapped.

Feyre exchanged a look with Rhys before answering. “I can’t risk it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m pregnant,” Feyre broke the news.

So it was true. For her new family, she’d forsake the old- or so Y/n thought.

Everyone rushed to congratulate the couple. Even Nesta muttered a quiet “Congratulations.” But Y/n was still standing there, almost forgotten as she was lost in her own thoughts. The room blurred around her as they discussed the Trove again, and Nesta finally agreed to help.

Rhys had wanted to discuss some things with Cassian and Azriel before they left, so Y/n had managed to slip off the back door quietly. Moments later, Feyre found her.

“Here you are.” Feyre’s voice was cautious as she stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. “I was looking for you. You didn’t say anything back there, I thought you’d-”

“You are always expecting things from me,” Y/n spun around to face her, eyes flashing. “Sorry to disappoint.” Her words snapped through the air like a whip.

Feyre flinched slightly but didn’t back down. “Y/n- that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what is it?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw tight. “What do you want?”

“I want us to be a family again.” Feyre’s voice softened, a raw plea in her tone.

Y/n let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and cutting. “A bit too late for that, don’t you think?”

Feyre’s brows knit together, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Is that what you really believe?”

Y/n’s eyes met hers again, hard as stone. “It doesn’t matter what I believe- it is what it is.”

Feyre’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped closer, trying to bridge the emotional chasm between them. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can,” Y/n replied sharply.

Feyre took in a slow breath, steadying herself. “Is that what you want? To push me and everyone else who cares about you away?”

“If I said yes, what are you going to do about it? Will you finally leave me alone?”

Feyre’s throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly. “I see training hasn’t helped.”

Y/n’s bitter laugh returned, sharper this time. “You can’t have everything your way, Feyre. You can’t help those who don’t want to be helped.”

“Father wouldn’t want you to-”

“Don’t mention him.” Y/n’s voice cracked slightly, but she straightened her spine, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Ever.”

Feyre winced as if Y/n’s words had physically struck her. “Is that what this is about?” Her voice dropped, her features softening with quiet grief. “Because there was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I said don’t.” Y/n’s voice was low, trembling with restrained power. “You are pregnant and I can barely contain my powers, so please don’t push my boundaries.”

Feyre hesitated, her mouth tightening as she tried to hold back her response.

She finally spoke again, softer this time. “I have something I want to share with you and Nesta. Can you remain civil, or is that out of your control, too?”

“I can try, but I can’t promise you anything.”

As Feyre led her inside, Nesta was waiting in the hallway. It appeared that they’d already had a conversation before Feyre went out to talk to Y/n.

“Since Elain found out I was pregnant, I wanted you both to know first- it’s a boy,” Feyre informed them.

“The baby?” Nesta asked.

The two sisters had a brief conversation. Feyre hoped Y/n would at least try- say anything but she didn’t. There had only been one time only when Y/n was extremely mad at Feyre when they were younger, but it had never been this bad. Y/n had quarreled with all her sisters over the years, but it never escalated to this point. Feyre wondered if it was because of the heightened emotions Fae-kind experienced compared to humans or if it was because of the trauma Y/n had experienced during the war.

When their mother died, Y/n became cold and distant, but never like this. Even a few years later, when Y/n came home one day and pushed everyone away for over a month, it was never this bad. It was after that month that Y/n had gone to look for her biological father and secure some work. When she came to visit a few months later, she was softer, but it never occurred to Feyre what might have happened if Y/n hadn’t left after that month. Would she still have pushed them away? Stayed cold and distant?

The sisters had asked her a couple of times what had happened that day when she’d returned, shaking, but they never got an answer. It was something Y/n carried with her to this day, something she’d tried burying deep inside. Time had dulled the pains lightly, but it never healed her. She had stayed too busy to think about anything else back then- always moving, always occupied.

But ever since becoming Fae, time felt endless. And when those feelings crept up on her, she’d thrown herself into the war, thinking it would be enough to drown everything out. And after they’d won, she numbed the pain in other ways. Now, with no distractions left, it all resurfaced, rising like waves trying to pull her under. She was slowly breaking apart.

Years of trauma were creeping to the surface. She’d never dealt with any of it- just ran from it, always running from her problems.

She hadn’t realized that one day, it would all catch up to her and there would be no more escaping them.

One of her greatest struggles wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was that she cared too much. So much that it consumed her, filling every bone, every muscle, every vein with the weight of her emotions. She didn’t know how to deal with that, let alone talk to someone about it.

Since she had always run from her problems, pushing everyone away felt easier. It was painful, yes- but in a very twisted way, it was also more comfortable.

“Ready?” Azriel’s voice broke through the haze, pulling her back to reality.

She blinked and realized they were standing at the front door with Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. Cassian had already flown off with Nesta moments ago.

“I hope you get through whatever you’re going through,” Feyre said softly.

Y/n hesitated for a moment before taking Azriel’s extended hand. As she prepared to leave, she finally muttered, “Congratulations, Feyre. I hope you’re happy.”

The next day as Y/n was heading to the dining room, she met Azriel halfway down the stairs. Ever since that night when she bared her soul to him, she had barely spoken to him. Avoiding him completely was impossible, so she opted for the second best option- minimal interaction.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Azrile greeted, his tone quiet yet warm.

“Shadowsinger.”

He opened his mouth as though to say something else, but Y/n quickened her steps, gaining a few strides on him. He got the message: she did not want to talk to him.

When she reached the dining room, Cassian was already sitting in his usual place, and Nesta had just arrived a few moments earlier. Y/n took a seat, followed by Azriel.

Cassian raised a brow at his brother, his expression suspicious. “Morning, Az. Y/n.” Then he turned to Nesta with a smirk. “Nes. How’d you sleep?”

Something was definitely going on between them. Y/n’s gaze flicked between the two of them before settling on Azriel, who only shrugged.

“Like a babe,” Nesta replied smoothly.

“I’ll be doing some training today before heading out,” Azriel informed Cassian. “I hope I won’t be interrupting anything.”

“Not at all. We’ll be starting hand-to-hand combat,” Cassian said with a grin.

Y/n perked up slightly- she had some experience in that area.

“My least favorite,” Azriel remarked as he grabbed a piece of fruit.

“Why?” Nesta asked, curious.

Azriel’s hazel eyes gleamed as he cast a brief glance at Y/n before returning to Nesta. “I like swordplay…Hand-to-hand is too close for my taste.”

Interesting. Was he hinting at something? Or teasing a certain someone?

“He doesn’t like getting a face full of someone’s armpit sweat,” Cassian joked, biting into his bread.

“Show me how you two fight,” Nesta demanded.

Azriel blinked, caught off guard.

Nesta continued. “I want to know what I’m up against.”

Y/n slurped her coffee, raising her eyes slightly to look at the two warriors.

As the three of them headed for the fighting ring, Cassian paused. “would you like to join us, Y/n?”

Good thing he asked, because if he didn’t, she was planning to watch anyway. It was a sight she didn’t want to miss.

“You want to do a little sparring? It’s been a while since I wiped the floor with you,” Cassian taunted, his grin cocky as always.

Azriel was calm as he took off his jacket and shirt, revealing his muscular chest and abdomen. Cassian did the same.

Y/n leaned against the wall near the water station, watching with mild amusement. She only glanced at Nesta once or twice without exchanging any words.

Cassian flexed his stomach muscles, earning him a disapproving look from Azriel, who muttered, “Pathetic, Cass.”

Y/n let out a soft chuckle, unable to help herself.

Noticing Azriel’s equally muscled form, Cassian asked, “Where the hell are you training these days?”

Azriel answered nonchalantly, “Here- at night.”

Cassian frowned. “Trouble sleeping?”

The Shadowsinger’s gaze flicked briefly toward Y/n before he muttered, “Something like that.”

Even that quick glance didn’t escape Cassian’s notice. His eyes trailed to where Azriel had been looking moments ago. He wondered if there was something going on between them. He hadn’t detected any scent of arousal from either of them- but then again, Azriel had his ways of hiding things.

The two Illyrians circled each other before beginning their sparring.

“Come on, show me what you’ve been practicing all night long,” Cassian taunted.

Azriel only smiled in response.

Nesta raised a brow. “Is this how you usually fight? By circling and taunting each other?”

Before she could finish her thought, the brothers began exchanging blows. Each punch was blocked and countered with precision. Some hits found their targets, but the brothers did not use their full strength- otherwise, they’d have been dragging each other to the healer with broken bones.

Y/n found herself enjoying this far more than swordplay, for the simple fact that here, blood could be shed, and punches would hurt. In swordplay, she couldn’t draw blood unless it was a real battle. Sparring with blades was just a contest to see who could disarm their opponent faster with a few precise moves. Hand to hand combat, though exhausting, demanded more. It required more- was raw, more violent- even in practice.

After a while, even though both warriors could go for hours, Cassian decided to wrap it up, seeing had an actual lesson to teach. “Whoever lands the next blow wins,” he declared.

Azriel scowled. “That’s ridiculous. We go until one of us eats dirt.”

He was competitive, and Y/n was just discovering this side of him. Unlike Cassian, who was arrogant and boastful, Azriel was always the quiet, sneaky, calculating one- always outsmarting his brothers at every turn. It’s why, over the centuries, he’d won more often than either of them in whatever games they played.

Azriel managed to trick Cassian by widening his eyes at Nesta as though something was wrong. When Cassian followed his gaze, Azriel’s fist shot out and landed a solid punch to his brother’s jaw. Cassian stumbled back, rubbing his chin.

Azriel smirked as he walked to the water station. Y/n was already there, handing him a cup of water.

“For someone who hates hand-to-hand combat, you’re pretty good at it,” she remarked, tilting her head as she studied him, still leaning against the wall.

He gave a slight nod, his lips quirking as he took the cup from her hand.

She hesitated before asking. “Will you be back tonight?”

He met her gaze. “Do you want me to be?

She rolled her eyes. “Will you, or will you not?”

“Ever so impatient, Y/n.” His eyes softened. “Yes, I will be back.”

The truth was, he wasn’t planning to. But seeing that unspoken plea in her eyes changed his mind. He knew she’d never ask outright- so he’d come.

“I want to train with you,” she admitted suddenly.

Azriel blinked. “I thought you-”

“In hand-to-hand combat,” she clarified.

He crossed his arms. “Why the sudden change?”

Her eyes flicked toward Cassian. “Let’s just say there’s a certain grin on someone’s face I’d like to erase.”

Azriel followed her gaze and gave a knowing nod. “That’s going to take more time than you think and… it won’t be easy.”

“I don’t want easy,” Y/n replied with a smirk. “And the longer it takes, the sweeter the taste of victory.”

And the longer it took, the more time she’d spend with Azriel- the more excuses for physical contact they’d have. And to touch those muscles- nope, that was definitely not why she wanted to train with him.

Tags: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @slytherintaco @aehllita @nebarious @t0uch-starved-h0e @bravo-delta-eccho @sylvermoon @going-through-shit @latinxbipride @i-am-infinite @azrielrot @fuckingsimp4azriel @theravenphoenix26 @hanatsuki-hime @fantanbietsson @rcarbo1 @weasleymagic @secretsicanthideanymore @spymaster03 @elaselat @minnieoo @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @daughterofthemoons-stuff @jojodojo02 @questionmymentality @romantasyreader28 @cassie-at-college-blog @dabiloverphoenix @hippop345 @fan-of-many-bands @freefalls06-blog @yesiamthatwierd @ms-dont-care

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daengtokki · 15 hours ago

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part nine // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.9k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: monsters, murder, pregnancy, medication mention, dissociation, hospital scenes

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

comments: just wanna say hi to my new followers and new deity readers ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST]

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Seungmin opens his eyes to a bright blue sky, the tops of the pine trees, and an ache in his neck. There's the sound of birds singing, but otherwise; perfect, natural silence. It's nice for a moment, despite his pain, until the last several hours come flooding back to him, and his world crumbles all over again. He lets the tears fall freely down his cheeks as he struggles to sit up, and he wonders what he's going to do now that he's made it through the night.

All around him are tracks. Too many to count. There are so many circling him that he can't distinguish anything except the cloven hooves of a deer, so while he slept, he was visited by something other than the thing in the woods. "Why didn't you take me?" He asks in a shaky whisper. Nothing answers except the birds, but when he tries to stand, someone screams. An ear splitting, head splitting shriek brings him to his knees. “Stop! Stop!” Plugging his ears does nothing; it’s as if the sound is coming from inside of his head. “Please!” It stops suddenly. The scream doesn’t taper off or echo…it just stops, like it never even happened. When Seungmin looks around him, and despite being on his knees, head hanging low, he’s dizzy. All he wants to do is lay in the dirt and fall back asleep. He spreads his hands out in front of him, “what is that?” he asks himself, staring at his pale, goose-bump covered arms. He takes a closer look and sees the scratches; three of them on each limb, starting at his knuckles and not stopping until he gets to his elbows. They don’t hurt, and they’re not deep enough to bleed. “Did I do that?”

Seungmin’s ears start to ring, and the dizziness returns. He hears the footsteps behind him, and he’s only surprised by it being here now, in broad daylight. It had all night to come for him. The sound it makes is more terrifying than he ever imagined. He’s heard the growls, and the whispers, but never it speaking directly to him—Seungmin didn't even imagine it having a voice. It sounds like a strange attempt at his name, but how can he answer? How can he Ppossibly turn and face it?

“Who are you?” He doesn’t bother trying to hide his fear. Seungmin’s chest tightens, and his voice shakes. The smell of dirt and decay hits his nose. He has to hold back his urge to vomit as the stench gets stronger and stronger. “Please go away.”

you called for me

It’s inside of his head. He can feel it echoing through his brain.

face me

“I wanna go home”

you have no home

“Yes I do! I do have a home”

little stray, I’m all that’s left now…we are all that’s left

“I’m not alone, I’m not!” Seungmin thinks about his aunts, who he only met once when he was two. He doesn’t remember, of course, but umma talked about them sometimes. His father’s sisters. They must be like dad, even just a little. “Someone still wants me, right?”

don’t be silly

“No, they do!”

turn and face me, and I’ll consider letting you leave

Just one look. Besides, this is why he came out here in the first place—to be found by it, and to never face another day again. Seungmin rises to his feet and takes a few deeps breaths. He has to get it over with. He turns, and somehow, the smell becomes worse. It’s here…it’s really here. He’s seeing it with his own two eyes, ten feet away from him.

good boy

To Seungmin, it looks as if a piece of the forest came to life, started to rot, and this is the outcome. The smell matches the rest of it, and the cloven hooves match the tracks surrounding where he slept. A face like a bleached skull, and black pits where its eyes should be almost distract him from the red, shedding antlers. It doesn’t move. The creature stands motionless as it speaks from its nonexistent mouth. How could this not be real? Why would Seungmin’s mind create something so horrible just for him?

I won’t leave you alone

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate, and his legs don’t either. He runs until his chest burns, and his legs nearly give out…and then the bright reflection of the greenhouse comes into view. The grass is cool and damp against his skin; it’s a relief, but it’s still there, burned into his vision, and the smell still burns his nose.

“Somebody will want me”

“Well?”

Seungmin squints at the screen, looks at you, and then back to the strangely detailed image he’s seeing. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to see…them. That’s them.”

“Yes, the 3D ultrasound still surprises parents”

“Still a little creepy,” you mumble and widen your eyes at her.

The tech looks at you and nods, “they’ll be more like the babies you will hold in a month or so. They still need more time to gain weight.”

“They’re moving!” The images are jumpy, but every few seconds, there’s a slight change in position. Seungmin can’t take his eyes off of them.

“Twenty-two, almost twenty-three weeks is early for this scan, but they look healthy. And you have boys, one hundred percent certain.”

Seungmin laughs, and then pulls out his phone. “Do we get photos?”

You think he’s going to take his own, but he stops to read something instead. It’s Heecheol, judging by the little smirk on his face and the smile in his eyes. You wonder if they decided on a time to visit, and if Seungmin remembered to mention the pregnancy to him. There’s no hiding it anymore, and the spare room won’t be a spare room when he comes to stay. The nursery is painted (a color called mint chocolate chip that Seungmin picked out himself), partially decorated—though Seungmin had trouble choosing a theme. The twin bed is still there, and it’s comfortable. Much more comfortable than the couch.

“Yes, we’ll print some images for you”

***

A few moments ago he was sound asleep, but now you can feel his stare. Your eyes stay glued to your phone for a few more seconds—your mother is texting you for the second time since you’ve moved in with Seungmin, and you still haven’t told her much. Seungmin doesn’t exist in her world, and neither do Haneul and Haesung. In her mind, you’re still alone in your little apartment, working the job that pays you just enough to live and eat. You are still trying your best to learn Korean, but you haven’t been going to formal classes as often as you’d like, and not at all since you started showing.

Before any of that information comes out, you need to mentally prepare for a long phone call. And maybe her anger, for two reasons: depriving her of what will be her first grandchildren, and worst of all, not having grandchildren that look like her. But twenty-five weeks is well over halfway there, and part of you feels guilty about keeping things a secret. Now you move your eyes away from the screen, and his are there, just like you thought—big and round and dark. “What’s wrong, Minnie?” He blinks a few times, and his gaze drops away from you. “You were almost snoring a minute ago.”

“Was I?”

“Just a little bit…you’ve had a busy week”

“Who are you talking to?”

Him noticing and wondering isn’t a surprise, because you rarely text anyone but him, and one classmate who keeps asking when you’ll come to classes. You’ve considered texting her and maybe getting out of the house, but it hasn’t happened yet. It’s so much easier to stay home and keep up with your dramas, or lose yourself for a while in a video game with Seungmin. That’s a new favorite for you. “My mom.”

“Have you spoken to her much lately?”

“Nope. I have texted back and forth to my sister, just to let her know I was still alive…but mom never bothered to respond to anything until now.”

“Did you tell her?”

You shake your head as you read the next message that pops up.

I just don’t understand why you’re still there…you don’t have to be so far away from the only family and friends you have. You can come home anytime.

there’s more here for me than you’re aware of

okay, so tell me what’s so special about it there

“Not yet. I think that should be a phone call.”

“Do you think she’ll be unsupportive?”

“She’s always unsupportive.” The message thread disappears, and you pull up what you were looking at before she surprised you. “Do you like this?”

Seungmin takes your phone in hand and brings it closer to his face, but he still squints. “Snoopy! Snoopy in a bunny suit. He looks so soft…are there any other colors?”

“Mocha…and yellow. Everything else is sold out.”

“Get one of each”

“Maybe we forget about a theme, and just fill the nursery with cute things. You add them to your cart and click on more characters. “Pochacco?”

“Pochacco? Yeah, we can do more puppies.”

“Do you like Pochacco? I wasn’t expecting you to know your Sanrio characters.” Seungmin throws off the covers and heads for his closet. “Where you going?”

“I still have things you’ve never seen, I guess.” He opens the closet door and heads for the opposite corner of his photo boxes, and after a little bit of digging around, a few things come flying toward you: a small, soft Pochacco; Snoopy, floppy and worn out like Daengmo, and a small brown dog you don’t recognize. The last one comes a few moments later, and it’s the biggest one.

“Growlithe!”

“Umma got me a different puppy every year for my birthday. Daengmo was first, Snoopy was second.”

You can’t help but wonder which one came last, but you know better than to ask. “Puppies it is.”

Seungmin’s phone buzzes, and you see the text notification appear. You can’t read it, or the name—especially not upside down and from this distance, but as soon as he dives back into bed and scoops it up, you get an answer.

“Heecheol says he has the weekend off, Friday through Monday, but he can’t stay long. He has another nurse checking in on his umma while he’s away, though.”

“That’s good. Is he coming on Friday? That gives me some time to clean and get the room ready.”

“Friday morning, yes. The apartment is clean!”

“Not guest clean”

The voice of his aunt is stern and serious, but it doesn’t bother him. As much as she tries to make Seungmin listen, and he usually does, nothing quite compares to the steady, eerily calm voice of his late-stepfather. He stares down into the pocket of his glove as she speaks.

“Are you listening?”

“I’m listening”

“I’m not trying to sound so…”

“Mean?” Eun-ji, who looks almost identical to her sister, just thinner, answers for her. “Please remember what this boy has been through.”

She huffs, but nods in understanding. Four years with their mother and father was probably difficult enough, but it’s been barely four years since losing his mother. Now, he’s moving again. “I’m sure umma took good care of you, Seungmin, but she’s getting old, and just can’t keep up anymore.”

“She did…and I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“You have to care for me now, but I’ll try to be as helpful as possible. I won’t be a burden.”

They look at each other and smile. Seungmin doesn’t understand why. He wrings his hands together as they look to him again. “We know you’re a very well-behaved boy, and you get good marks in school. And you play baseball, right?”

He nods.

“You like to read?”

“Yes”

“Well, I understand the high school has a baseball team you can try out for next year, and we have a very large library. It’s just a quick bus ride into town. Oh, what’s the matter?”

Seungmin’s legs start to shake, but he doesn’t know why. His chest tightens, and his eyes well with tears. He can’t stop himself. “Uhm…I—“

“There’s no need for tears, you’re safe here with us.” Eun-ji reaches out and takes his hand in hers. “We’ll take good care of you…Minnie? Is that what your umma called you?”

Seungmin nods and wipes his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Sometimes.”

“Come over here and sit with us”

He walks on his unsteady legs and squeezes between them on the couch. They smell nice, and Eun-ji still squeezes his hand gently. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“If it helps you feel better, you should cry. If someone told you to be ashamed of your tears, you can just forget what they said.”

Can he? Seungmin isn’t sure he can do that. Crying is a sign of weakness—that’s what his stepfather told him, even when he saw his tear-streaked, dirt-covered face when umma found him and brought him home. Crying is for babies and little girls. Is that what you are? A baby? A baby sulking around with his little stuffed dog. He’s been gone for years, and he still won’t leave him alone. Just like the monster promised. Both of them swirl endlessly in his brain, and he just wants to make it stop.

“Here, let me clean your glasses…Ji-woo will show you your new bedroom, and we’ll get you unpacked”

Friday morning comes, and you sit at the kitchen counter, wondering how you could possibly find the energy to finish…anything. Your body and your mind has run on caffeine since you were fifteen, and now you’re afraid to drink more than a few sips of coffee. It’s not just the thought of feeling nauseous, but it’s doing anything to could cause harm to them. You know in your brain that caffeine, a little bit, won’t hurt, but you still feel like you need to be perfect to keep them healthy.

“I’ll be back. His bus should be getting here soon…are you okay?”

“Bus? Oh, that must have been uncomfortable for him. I’ll finish getting his room ready.”

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

“Sad? No, Minnie, I’m not sad. I was just…thinking about coffee.”

Seungmin laughs, “coffee? You must really miss it. I can grab some decaf while I’m out. Maybe that will help the craving.” He brings you in for a kiss. “Stay off your feet. I’ll finish getting things ready when we get back.”

You listen, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you grab your pillow, and Daengmo, and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Seungmin will be an hour at the very least, so you set an alarm just in case you doze off.

***

Any other day, the traffic wouldn’t be worth the fight, but Seungmin doesn’t want Heecheol on a city bus after a long bus ride. He drives the four miles there, and a half an hour later, he’s starting to feel nervous for no reason. The busy station does make him uneasy—he’s rarely around this many people at once. And he never has a reason to be here, so he’s unfamiliar with the layout. Eventually, after asking for directions twice, he figures out where he needs to be, and he waits. No text messages come through telling him he’s almost there, or that he’s arrived, but the trains are usually on time. He should be arriving in two minutes, according to the big clock above the schedule.

“Mo!”

Seungmin jumps and turns to face his friend’s big smile. “You’re early.” Heecheol gives him no time to react before he pulls him in for a hug. It’s a strange feeling. He’s grown used to holding you, and having your arms around him as he falls asleep, but this is different. Heecheol is taller; he’s strong, and Seungmin feels small in his embrace.

“Sorry it took…two months?”

“Two and a half.” But what is that compared to fifteen years?

He pulls away, but his hands fall to Seungmin’s shoulder. “It was hard picturing you grown up, even as I looked in the mirror and saw myself getting older. I kept thinking about that when you two left.”

Seungmin isn’t sure what to say, but he returns the smile. He doesn’t know how to tell Heecheol that his mind was lost for a very long time, and he didn’t think about him nearly as much as he should have—at least not until ten weeks ago. It never occurred to him that he was still being thought about as he struggled through his school years, just from very far away.

“But we should get out of here, it’s getting even busier”

“Right, I’m parked not far from the entrance…I just,” he stops. Seungmin had more than enough chances to tell him, but he kept putting it off. “I have to stop for some coffee before we head back.”

“I haven’t been to Seoul since I flew home last year. City life is already lost on me, even after Charlotte. But that doesn’t compare to this.”

“It’s smaller there?”

“Much smaller, less people. Do you like it here?”

“It’s okay. I don’t really get out much, so I might as well live in a small town sometimes.” Except if Seungmin lived in a small town, he would have been caught a long time ago. He chose to stay in Seoul for the ease of blending in, or disappearing. And for the wide pool of potential victims. “I say that now, but when I was…single, it was different. It’s easier to be at home now, because I’m not always alone with my thoughts.” Yeah, that makes sense. Seungmin can turn off the bad noise—not always, but certainly more than before.

“That makes sense. Sounds nice. Sounds serious.”

“It is. And speaking of that, there’s something I kept meaning to mention, and I just…I haven’t.”

“What is it?”

***

He makes sure to text you on the way up the elevator, but you don’t reply by the time he slides the key in and pushes the door open. “We’re here…oh.” Seungmin shuts the door softly, and Heecheol watches as he kneels where you’re still sleeping on the couch; blanket pulled up to your chin, Daengmo shielding your eyes from the sunlight. Seungmin picks him up slowly. “Hey…”

You stir a little, and as your eyes flutter open, you remember where you are, and what’s going on. You remember where Seungmin went and that he wasn’t returning alone. “My alarm didn’t go off…or, I slept through it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you can nap. Do you wanna get into bed while I get us settled?”

It takes a moment, but you sit up carefully and wonder how puffy and groggy you look to your guest. “No, I’m awake…hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles at you just as sweetly as he did before, but his eyes fall to your stomach this time. “I can understand why you’re tired. Please don’t force yourself to lose sleep because of me.”

“I sleep all the time...maybe too much. I’m hoping my decaf will trick my brain into thinking it’s getting caffeine.”

Heecheol approaches, a little hesitantly, but then sits a few inches away on the couch. “Right, the decaf makes sense now. Did you drink a lot of coffee before you were pregnant?”

“Yes, every day”

“A little bit of caffeine here and there won’t hurt. And if it makes you happy, that’s probably better for baby than you feeling miserable without it.”

“I’m nervous about doing something wrong”

“When did you have your last appointment?”

“Two weeks ago”

“And how did it go?”

“It went well. They looked very healthy, and they just needed more time to fatten up.”

“They?” His eyes grow, but he looks to Seungmin for an answer.

***

“I should have told you before today”

“As long as she’s comfortable with me here, that’s what matters.”

Seungmin sets his iced coffee in front of him, the same as what he’s drinking. “Still. I hesitated. I told you how long we were together, and I didn’t want you to think it was because we made a mistake.”

“I don’t think that.” Heecheol slides his hand across the counter and sets it over Seungmin’s. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Mo.”

He smiles at that—his nickname. The first time Heecheol heard his mother call him Mo, it stuck. Seungmin turns his hand over and squeezes his fingers.

“I’ve never known you to do anything lightly”

They speak softly at the kitchen counter, but you still catch pieces of the conversation. You recognize some of it, to your surprise—single words, at least. You catch your name, and that’s not surprising. Heecheol didn’t seem very surprised when he saw you, so Seungmin obviously got around to telling him at some point. The babies are moving around as you stand by the door and adjust your shirt, and you have to stop and breathe until they stop…it feels like they’re arguing in there; kicking each other, fighting for more room. Breathing excercises aren't enough. The horrible swirling feeling and the smell of lunch cooking on the stove makes you sick, and you stumble out and head for the bathroom.

“Tokki, are you okay?”

You see them from the corner of your eye as you walk by, but you don’t stop, because if you do, you might not make it.

“Still getting nauseous?” Heecheol asks. He walks up behind Seungmin as he stares at the closed bathroom door.

“Sometimes. Especially if they’re very active, but active is good, right?”

“Yes, and they’re taking up a lot of space in there. I’m sure it’s very hard when they won’t rest together.”

He’s never thought about it quite like that. Just because they share a space doesn’t mean they share a schedule. One takes a nap, the other wakes up and kicks his brother until he starts to kick back. He can’t imagine how strange that feels inside of you. “Hopefully they rest together when they’re here with us.”

“They’ll keep a routine as long as you give them one, and they need that, but babies will always do what they want”

“Cheoli, you seem to know a lot about babies”

“Lots of rotations on the maternity ward, here and in the states. It’s my favorite. Oh, how did your cut heal?”

There’s a scar there, but barely. Seungmin sticks out his arm and Heecheol runs his thumb over it. “Very well, you stitched it so straight.”

A few minutes later you emerge, pale in the face, but feeling better. The two of them look at you from where they sit at the counter, and Seungmin smiles as you approach. They’re both clutching their coffees now, but you’re certain you saw them clutching each other before you interrupted.

“I can make you something easier on your stomach, if you want”

You hoist yourself onto the stool next to him, “no, I’m okay…I think they finally calmed down,” and Seungmin scoots you closer.

The silence, one long enough to start feeling uncomfortable, is finally broken by Heecheol. And he speaks to you. “Do you like living here, in Korea?”

The thought never crossed your mind, strangely enough. Living here, or living there—it’s been the same in some ways, or it used to be. You lied to Seungmin about how long you’ve been here, and he knows that, but you’ve never actually told him the truth. Two months spent by yourself, trying to adjust…trying to settle somewhere new and far away from home. “I do. Learning Korean has been hard, and I feel like I’ll never get the hang of it. I really should be immersing myself, but it’s hard when he speaks perfect English.”

He nods and smiles at Seungmin, who looks a little guilty for making things too easy for you.

“It was hard when I was alone. I almost left a few times, but finding him made everything feel right.”

“And now you two have made a sweet little family"

Seungmin’s smile is so wide, you can see it without even turning to look at him, and it gives you butterflies. Or maybe the babies are just awake again. You didn’t expect to reminisce about the way your relationship came to be, but of course his friend wants to know details—details you can’t give, but ones you’ll remember, sometimes in intense detail. The forest hasn’t been forgotten, not at all, and you still wonder what pulled him in there. If you asked, he wouldn’t know, so sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and wait for a dream to come; a nightmare that gets him talking. It does weigh on you—the eavesdropping and the hope for a vivid dream, but so does his strange behavior.

“Sometimes I would wonder if it was ever possible…being a father, and if I could even do it. It seemed out of reach for me.”

“Why? I understand the feeling, though."

“Tokki should have dropped me and ran more than once already, but…I’ve been lucky. I’m not easy to deal with.”

Heecheol smiles and lets out a tiny laugh, but only after seeing your smile. “We fit well together, just like the two of you seem to. I’ve never seen him smile at anyone else the way he smiles at you.” The happy blush already on his cheeks darkens even more, and his eyes drop to his coffee. Every time you look at him, it just reinforces your assumptions. Maybe Heecheol didn’t have feelings for Seungmin when they were kids, but he does now, and it hit him so suddenly when he laid eyes on him again. All those good feelings came back; the comfort, and the understanding.

Or maybe you’re just projecting. Maybe you’re just thinking anyone could fall in love with him so easily.

Seungmin squeezes the hand you placed in his lap, and at the same time, slides the other across the counter. Heecheol grabs it without hesitation.

“This time last year,” he starts, but you can tell he hasn’t gathered all of his thoughts yet. “Uhm, uh—“ he releases both of you and wrings his hands together as he continues to think. You can tell he’s retreating. “Nevermind.”

What was Seungmin doing last spring: what was going through his head?

“You can tell us, Mo. When it feels right.”

Both of you are gentle with him, and Heecheol doesn’t even know just how much Seungmin needs that. He also doesn’t know how rarely he opens up. Too often he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling; eyes slowly closing, but he never falls asleep before you do. Whatever is on his mind in those moments belong to him, and only him.

Tonight is one of those nights. An hour passes slowly as you watch him think. It was an unseasonably warm day, perfect for the baseball game they went to, and it’s carried into the night—a breeze just barely makes it to the bed. Seungmin is star-fished on his back, blanket covering one full leg. The rest of him, aside from what his shorts cover, is out and damp with sweat.

“I can put a fan on if you’re too warm,” you say, even though his eyes are closed now, and he might finally be asleep.

“I’m okay. Are you? Are the babies making you warm?”

“A little”

He’s up with a grunt, and he stretches his back and shoulders as he heads for the balcony. First he pulls the curtains aside as far as they’ll go, and then he slides the door open a little bit more.

“That makes me nervous”

“Hm…what does, the balcony?”

“The curtain and the door being all the way open.” You feel stupid thinking it, but not stupid enough to keep it to yourself. “I keep wondering if you were sleepwalking that night.”

“If I was,” he smiles sweetly at you, “I haven’t done it since. You haven’t caught me, at least.”

“I know”

“And we have a nice breeze coming in now…you’ll sleep better”

“Do you think Heecheol is okay? I don’t want him to be uncomfortable and not let us know.”

Seungmin stops halfway back to bed, “I’ll check.”

***

He doesn’t bother turning on a light, so he walks carefully to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. While he’s there, he wonders if alcohol is a good choice. A beer, just one on top of the three he had earlier, probably wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it’ll help him sleep. Seungmin grabs one and heads for the nursery, and before knocking, sets his ear against the door. At first it’s quiet, but a moment later, he hears what sounds like a muffled video playing on his phone. A soft knock, and a moment later, he hears him…I’m awake, you can come in.

Seungmin pokes his head in and sees him propped up on the pillows, phone in hand. “Sorry, we just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” The window is cracked, and he can feel the breeze coming in. “Or if you needed anything.”

“Yeah, I’m comfortable. I thought you’d be asleep by now, it’s late.”

“Can’t sleep”

“You can come in”

Seungmin steps in and sets the water on the side table. “Brought this anyway.”

He nods to the bottle of beer. “Who’s that for?”

Both of them had enough to drink at the game, but his enough is double that of Seungmin’s, at least. He was still a little tipsy on the bus ride home, and Heecheol quietly stared at Seungmin for the duration.

“I can get another if you want this one”

“No, I think I hit my limit today.” The bed squeaks as he moves to make more room, and Seungmin takes the invitation. “Went a little over it, maybe.”

“Are you feeling okay now?”

“Yeah, back to normal I think. So this is the future nursery?”

Seungmin looks around and smiles as he twists off the cap. The color he chose looks nice in the dim lamplight, and a small collection of plushies is already accumulating on top of the dresser. Two boxes lean against the wall; a crib for each boy, and he knows he needs to start working on assembling things. You’ve already told him they won’t be sleeping in here for a while, so in your bedroom are two more boxes, each containing the pieces for a bassinet. Seungmin never really knew how much a baby needed, but it’s a surprising amount—doubled. “Yeah, just enough room, at least while they’re small.”

“Do you need help putting those together? Or anything else…doesn’t seem like you have everything yet.”

“No, I can’t make you work while you’re—“

“What was that?” The noise is faint, but Heecheol catches it. Seungmin hears it the second time—a soft cry, like you’re trying to call for him.

They’re both on their feet, stumbling through the dark until Seungmin pushes the door open, and his stomach drops when he sees your pale, anguished face. “What… what is it, what’s wrong?” He asks as calmly as possible.

Heecheol rounds the bed and grabs your hand, and he’s quiet for a few seconds. “What’s hurting?”

“Everything”

“Have you felt pains like this yet?”

Flashbacks of the intense pains you felt while hiding out months ago come back to Seungmin. He was mostly useless then, and he feels only slightly less useless now.

He reaches for the lamp and clicks it on, giving the room some well needed light. “Have you had any false labor pains yet? Hey…look at me, I know it hurts.”

“No pains, no”

“Okay, try to breathe deep through your nose, and then let it out slowly…very slow.”

Seungmin’s grip on your hand relaxes. “I can see…is that them moving?” He almost lays his palm on your stomach, but thinks better of it. That’s probably not what you want or need right now.

“They can feel it, too,” Heecheol speaks softly, “and this is a long one. Take another big breath…it’ll pass.”

You listen, and as hard as it is to take a deep breath, you manage it twice. This is a new type of pain you’ve never experienced before, and you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with it again. Two long minutes of it, and all you can see to your left is a blur of Seungmin staring you down. You’ve never seen him look more worried than he does right now. “It’s okay, Minnie…I’m okay.” You aren’t, not really, but the pain is gradually easing up, and it becomes easier to breathe.

Heecheol squeezes your wrist again, and his other hand lands gently on your stomach. “They might be awake for a while now, but hopefully no more pains that intense.”

“I don’t think I can do that again”

“You can—you will, and you’ll be surprised by the amount of pain you can endure”

“I don’t want to,” you laugh, and wince in pain again when one of them kicks hard enough to see.

Seungmin stares, and finally places both hands on your stomach. “Is it normal to see them moving like that?”

“Yeah, especially considering how cramped it’s getting in there; you’ll see all kinds of movement. Feel anything?”

He smiles, “yeah, I’ve never felt them so active before.”

“Me neither,” you sigh and set your hands on top of his. “I wonder which one is the worst.”

“Do you need anything? Water…and something for the muscle pains you’ll be feeling would be a good idea.”

“I’ll get you something, I’ll be right back.” Seungmin bends down to kiss your hand before jumping off the bed and heading for the medicine cabinet. He wants to feel useful, and it’s tough to do with a nurse in the room.

You watch Heecheol start to rise, but he stops and feels your pulse. He’s calm, like he’s been in this situation more times than he can remember, and having him here right now, tonight, was very lucky. “Thank you. I don’t know how well he would have handled that alone. He’s doing a good job, but he worries…and overthinks.”

“So he hasn’t changed.” Heecheol laughs and looks around. He sees the dried flowers, slowly crumbling away in a brand new vase, and next to it is the still broken pieces of his music box. To new eyes, it probably looks like a mess, and nothing else.

There’s no sound coming from outside the bedroom, so you keep your ears perked while you watch him walk to the other side of the room. “Can I ask you something, before Seungmin comes back?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure…is it about…” his gaze drops to your stomach.

“No, it’s about when you two were kids.” He’s making something warm to drink—you hear the familiar clumsy sound of him making tea. Heecheol moves closer as you sit up a little more. “Did he ever wander into the woods? I mean, aside from the incident with his stepfather. Did either of you ever see anything strange in there?”

The look he gives you is loaded with questions, and you think the meds must be one of them. “The woods? The pine forest around the old house?” Now his gaze moves to Seungmin’s side table, and you see what he's spotted. Seungmin’s prescription came in a box this time, and the writing on the front is hard to miss: HALOPERIDOL 2mg. “Not that I recall. It was creepy in there…I do remember him telling me he saw something, but just once. I didn’t believe him—I thought he was trying to scare me.” He has no clue which incident you're referring to with his stepfather, but he's curious. “Why do you ask?”

There’s no time to elaborate, because Seungmin is back—mug in one hand, bottle of water tucked under his arm. You remember this. He looks exactly like he did that night; worried, a little pale, half dressed with a mug of tea in one shaking hand.

“I sweetened it for you.” He sets it on your table, along with the water and two tablets he had clutched in his fist. “Cheoli…is it too early for this, the pain?”

“Not necessarily, but if there are more tonight, more that last that long…could be uhm, could be the babies trying to move into position.”

“Position? Position to what?”

Heecheol laughs. “To be born. They have to turn, head down preferably.”

“Right. But they can’t be born yet, it’s too soon.”

As much as you want to tell him not to worry, you can’t, because you’ve been nervous since the day you found out you were pregnant. Getting this far was a surprise. All you can hope for is Heecheol to put his mind at ease.

“It is, but the pains don’t mean they’re coming yet”

Somehow, Seungmin’s face grows even more pale. Not trying to worry him further is not working, for either of you. You calmly sip your tea, but he continues to watch you like you’re going to explode at any minute.

“I’m sorry, Mo, I’m not trying to worry you.”

Seungmin swallows and nods, and he follows Heecheol as he heads for the door. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

***

Half of his bottle is drained quickly, “what?” Seungmin isn’t just feeling watched—the look Heecheol is giving him is one of concern, and curiosity. Some confusion. “I know I didn’t handle that very well. I should be stronger than that.”

He shakes his head, “no, you’re allowed to be worried and a little scared. A little clueless. The two of you will get through it. But I do have to ask something…because you said, or we said…maybe we were both a little tipsy or getting too much sun at the game…”

He remembers. How can he do it, though? Seungmin can’t tell him everything. “No secrets, just like when we were kids.”

“That means a lot of catching up.” Heecheol takes the bottle from him and finishes it. “The Haldol, I’m assuming it's yours.”

Seungmin was so worried and distracted, he didn’t think about his medication sitting out in the open on his bedside table. Keeping them within sight has helped. But now he might have to jump right in and tell him something. “Yes, they’re mine.”

“We can talk about it another time, if you want, but no more alcohol. Just promise me that.”

“Okay”

“Go get some sleep. Wake me if either of you need anything.”

***

The pain mostly subsides, but the kicking and squirming doesn’t. Both of them feel like they’re spinning inside of you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Breathing exercises only help so much, and if there’s a neural connection that lets you communicate with them, they’re ignoring every word you say tonight. But Seungmin returns, and regardless of how tired and mopey he looks, you’re relieved to see him shuffling toward the bed. “Just in time. C’mere.”

“Are you hurting again?” He climbs across the bed and curls up next to you, despite how warm he is. The alcohol and conversation made him even warmer. “More pains?”

“Nothing like before, no. Can you talk to them, or something? Anything. They’re all worked up.”

Seungmin sits up and sets a hand on you until he feels movement. “I can try.” He lies down again, this time with his head on you, ear pressed against your stomach. “It’s bedtime,” he whispers. “Time to settle down and rest. Haneul…Haesung, which of us will fall asleep first? It can’t be me. I’ll stay up until umma falls asleep, and that means you two first.”

He’s been speaking to them by name for two months now, and you’ve started to as well. There hasn’t been any more discussion about it, so it seems like a good fit. Seungmin starts to hum, and you can feel it move through your chest. You worry for a moment that they’ll start squirming again, but they don’t, and you can finally close your eyes and relax. There’s still some fear that the pain will hit again, but you’re too tired to let it keep you up, and you feel yourself slowly fading into sleep.

A dim, measured beep starts going off, just enough to be annoying. You’re still tired, and you desperately want to sleep, so you try to block it out and slip back to where you were, but it gets louder.

“Seungmin…what is that noise?” You cup your palm over your ear, but it doesn’t help. “Is that your phone?” No, his alarm doesn’t sound like that, and he never has the sound on. Maybe he’s at his computer, mixing something together…but he hasn’t done that in a while. Your hand slides downward and jumps to your stomach. Nobody is kicking now—not that you can feel, but you can’t feel anything. “Seungmin?” He isn’t next to you. Finally, you open your eyes, and it’s blinding. Wherever you are is too bright, and it’s certainly not your bedroom. Moving is almost impossible, but as soon as you force yourself onto your back, all you see as your eyes adjust is a plain, drab room. You set your hand on your stomach again; there’s nothing there; no bump, and not even the ghost of one. This is the same stomach you had six months ago. Everything below your chest is numb.

The doorknob clicks, and a nurse walks in without a word. She looks at you, clicks a pen, and still says nothing.

“Where are my babies? Where am I?”

“Babies?”

“Where are they…where is Seungmin? He wouldn’t leave me here. Seungmin!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You wake up again, and seeing him stare down at you is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. His big worried eyes, and his warm hands squeezing your shoulders bring you back immediately. "Stupid dreams," you mumble.

“Are you in pain?”

No, you think. Not at all. It was just a dream, and you’re here with him. Everything is okay. But you are in pain and it takes another few seconds to hit. It feels like you’ve been in pain for hours, and you’ve never felt anything like it before.

“Hey, it’s okay…everything is okay, I’m here”

It’s as if a vice is squeezing your back and pulling your spine from your body, inch by inch. Your chest burns when you try to breathe, and it comes back out in a cry. “It hurts.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” He turns away screams for Heecheol.

It echoes in your head, and pain shoots around your stomach, around your back, and down your thighs. “They can’t come yet.”

“You’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay, too. Just look at me, take a breath.”

Heecheol runs into the room, but you can tell he’s calm as he approaches. “Hey, another bad one?” His hand clutches yours.

“Bad…it’s bad”

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“God, my back…and,” you set your hand on the bottom of your stomach and attempt another deep breath. “My chest.”

“Chest? How far is the closest hospital?”

“Uhm, the university hospital isn’t far. Should I call an ambulance?”

Heecheol gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Can you walk? When this passes, if you can walk, we should get you there, just in case.”

“I’m not sure”

He looks at Seungmin, “if it doesn’t pass in the next few minutes, we’ll call. If it does, we can get ready and drive there.”

It does start to fade, but not nearly as quickly as before. Your head pounds from the tension in your body, and every muscles aches in its own way. You close your eyes and feel both of them move away from you, but you don’t bother to focus on what they say…

“Hospital? You think it’s time for that?” Seungmin asks. He watches you carefully as you finally start to relax.

“The pain seemed pretty intense. Is the pregnancy considered high risk?”

“I don’t think so…everything has been fine at the appointments”

His hands warm, damp are on you again; one squeezes yours, and the other runs softly across your thigh, “you okay?” He whispers.

“I dunno”

“We’re just gonna go to the hospital, to be safe,” he whispers again, trying desperately to keep you calm as he feels something falling apart inside of him. “So you can be more comfortable.”

“Will you stay with me?” A nauseous feeling starts to swirl inside of you, and you hope it’s the babies fighting again. You need them to move again. They haven’t moved since you woke up from your dream. “Please.”

***

The beeping is there again—it’s loud, and when your eyes open, everything is different, and he’s there, asleep with his head in his arms at the edge of your hospital bed. The lights are dimmed, and nobody else is around, because you assume it’s still the middle of the night. You don’t even know what time it was when you woke up in pain.

“Minnie?” Your voice cracks, and your cough is what wakes him up. “What time is it?”

“Uhm,” he grabs your arm and searches for his phone, “it’s 5:30. How do you feel?”

“Tired. What happened?”

“They gave you something to keep you from going into labor.” Heecheol closes the sliding door. There’s a coffee in each hand; one for him, and the other for Seungmin. “And something for the bleeding. And the pain.”

“Are the babies okay?”

“Yeah, babies are good. You don’t remember the ultrasound?”

Did you black out from the pain? Is labor actually that painful? “No, I don’t remember leaving the apartment.” If so, any fleeting thoughts you had of a natural birth before tonight…they’re long gone. “How long does the medicine stop me from going into labor?”

“Two days at the least, but an extra week is possible. Twenty-six is much better than twenty-five.”

You look to Seungmin, who’s looking at you the way that he tends to do; into you, and through you. He can’t hide the worry and sadness he’s carrying around with him. “Minnie, I’m sorry.”

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’ll be okay, and so will they.”

The dream keeps coming back to you, though.

***

It’s another two hours of you moving in and out of sleep before your doctor arrives, and when she walks into the room followed closely by someone else—a nurse, she looks concerned. You can tell she tries to shake it off when she gets closer.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?”

“Better than I was last night”

“Last week everything looked very good, and they were…” She stacks her arms parallel to each other against her stomach, “transverse. They both moved very quickly, and now they’re both head down.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s unusual this early, but we’ll try to keep labor at bay for as long as possible, and we can give you something to help speed up lung development. But after that, we just wait.”

“I have to stay here?”

“Just for three or four days. If everything stays calm after that, you can go home…but bed rest until the babies are born,“ She looks at Heecheol, and then to Seungmin. “I’m counting on you to keep her there, and do everything she says.”

***

Seungmin doesn’t want to, but eventually, after convincing him you’d be alright by yourself, Heecheol and him head back to the apartment. It’s a quick, silent drive, and neither of them speak much until they’re on the elevator, halfway up the building.

Heecheol wants to say something to comfort him, but he doesn’t know where to start, and he doesn’t know if anything he says will help, so he keeps quiet for now. In place of conversation, he starts making more coffee while Seungmin shuts himself in the bathroom.

He takes a long shower, and he’s still silent as he heads for the bedroom wrapped in his towel. The sounds of him changing, and then the familiar sound of a pill being pushed from the blister pack filters out through the cracked door. Heecheol wonders how long he’s been taking Haldol, and how serious his condition is. Schizophrenia? Bipolar disorder? Both, possibly. It seems to be well under control, though, and he hopes Seungmin will talk to him about it.

The door swings open. “How likely is survival if they’re born this premature?” Seungmin asks. The doctor may be going over this with you right now, but he needs to know, too. And he needs to talk about it.

“Around 75…80%. Each week increases that percentage a little more.”

“I’m sorry you have to be here for all of this, Cheoli”

“I don’t mind. I can get someone to check in on umma; she’ll be fine.” He slides a coffee closer to him. “I’d hate to think about you all by yourself here, waiting around. Besides, you’ll need help getting this apartment ready if mom’s stuck in bed for a while.”

The list of things to finish is getting longer, and he wasn’t sure he’d have enough time before they arrived. Now he might have no time, but it doesn’t matter, as long as they make it home. “It would be nice to get the nursery done, even if they won’t be sleeping in there when they come home.” He reaches for his buzzing phone and sees a text from you already.

I know you just left, and you seemed fine, but are you okay? You can call or text whenever you want to, because I’m gonna bother you just as much

I will, but I’ll feel bad if I wake you. Keep your phone on do not disturb and I’ll feel much better about it. And sleep. If you’re hungry for something I’ll bring it in for you. AND I will be there tomorrow morning.

I will, I promise. I just had breakfast, and it was okay, but maybe you can make me some soft-boiled eggs and sneak them in? They only gave me a half of one :(

I’ll bring you as many eggs as you can eat. How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?

I am, I’m feeling good, no pains or anything…lots of kicks, I think they still want out

I’ll try to visit tonight before you go to bed, and I’ll tell them they need to stay put for while. Cheoli is going to help me finish putting things together here. Everything will be ready before you come home 🤍

the list I’ve been working on is in my drawer…we still have a lot to cross off

We’ll take care of everything, promise

***

Seungmin finds your notebook right where you said it would be. Next to it is your old one…the one you were using to practice Hangul months ago; the same one you wrote his name in over and over through the first few pages. He opens it to see everything still there, and then flips further back to see how much better your handwriting eventually became. You don’t feel confident speaking Korean, even though you practice with him all the time, and he’s being honest when he says you’re doing well. But no matter how much he reassures, you still believe you just can’t get it. A few nights ago, you made yourself cry from the fear of not being able to speak to them properly. It’s the first time in a long time, aside from last night, that Seungmin can remember feeling truly helpless when it comes to you; he can’t fix it…not without time.

It just…scrambles in my head, even when you speak slowly to me. I can’t make sense of it.

We’re going to be speak Korean and English to them, right? So you keep learning as they learn.

The new notebook is a baby planner, and it’s well-used. The side pockets are stuffed with pamphlets and information the doctor gave you in Daegu; older, messier lists to refer back to, and a paint color swatch for the greens Seungmin chose from. He flips to the middle where your much neater, much more organized lists are, starting with NURSERY: two cribs and everything that’s goes with them, two bassinets, changing table, dresser. Most of that is sitting in their respective boxes, untouched. Baby monitor, just one of those; blankets, too many to count; pacifiers, also too many to count. He flips the pages. Fortunately, most of that section is checked off.

Fatigue starts to creep up on him, and just as he flips to the next page (FEEDING) Heecheol sneaks up behind him. “Feeding, still need all of those. We can get a lot done today, but we need sleep first.”

He must see it on him, the exhaustion. Neither of them slept last night. “Yeah, I am very tired. I can hear Tokki yelling at me for it—if I just start working without at least trying to rest.”

“Can I ask where the nickname came from?”

“Tokki?”

“Mhm. She looks more like a deer than a bunny…feels like one, too.”

He thinks about it, picturing your face in his mind; your voice, and your walk. Maybe you are more like a deer, but you’ll always be Tokki to him. “That’s true, but…she’s my moon, I guess.”

“Your moon?”

“Yeah. We should get some sleep.”

***

Both of them get back into bed without bothering to set alarms, and they both sleep well into late afternoon. The sun is still up, just barely, when Heecheol finally opens his eyes, but his head is pounding. He decides to close his eyes again, and if Seungmin happens to wake up and need him, he’ll get up, but that doesn’t happen.

The first time Seungmin wakes, the sun is setting, and some of the light is pushing through the thick curtains. Before dozing off again, he watches it move across the room, and then he looks at his phone; no notifications. He knows you’re safe and resting, and that makes it even easier for him to slip back into sleep. But something creeps into his head without him realizing it; it was there last night, and when he sat in the hospital room watching your every move. It was there as he flipped through the baby book, trying to figure out his next step. It's been there since he went back into the woods; he's just gotten better at holding it back.

It’s full dark when he wakes again—10 o’clock. He slept too much, and the pain in his head is pulsing behind his eyes. He can’t remember what day it is, and why he’s been asleep. Why is he waking at this hour? Seungmin sits up. “Why is it so quiet?” He says to himself, and immediately falls back onto his pillow. Again, he looks at an empty phone, and then he scratches at the scar on his forearm. The empty spot to his left confuses him, and without thinking; without knowing exactly why, he jumps out of bed and opens his drawer.

“What? Where…is…” he moves a few things around. He doesn’t remember putting these things here, and he certainly doesn’t remember moving his tools. Seungmin moves to the dresser and checks each drawer. Nothing. Next is the closet. He glances at the bin by the door; the one filled with his old baby clothes, and a few forgotten toys, but he chooses to ignore it. The first thing he notices is a box, slightly larger than the photo boxes it’s sitting next to. It’s a nice box, with a hinged lid and a lock. And it’s locked. Does he have a key for this lock? Seungmin is pretty certain he has a key for every lock.

The ring of keys was in the drawer, so he and the box return to bed, and after four careful tries, it clicks.

“How did you get in here? I don’t remember...” He picks up his knife, safe in its leather sheath, and slowly pulls it out. It shines at him in the darkness, and he sees his reflection in the polished steel. “Oh well.”

Back to the closet, and then to the dresser. Black jeans, and a fitted tank top. Black boots—not his good ones, but they’re still nice—and two silver chains around his neck. He checks himself in the mirror before throwing on his jacket...runs his fingers through his hair and fluffs it up a little. By the time he walks out the door, he looks perfect.

***

Might as well just sleep the rest of the night, Heecheol thinks as he rolls around trying to get comfortable. He checks his phone for messages, and there’s nothing, so everything is fine at home. No need to worry. The headache is gone, at least, but he has to get up and rehydrate…maybe check in on Seungmin. He had a rough day, and meds or no meds, things can go downhill quickly.

The little hallway is dark, and so is the living room. One tiny light in the kitchen helps guide him toward the water, but not before noticing the light coming from Seungmin’s bedroom, so maybe he is up, and he is okay. Heecheol grabs his water and heads for the bathroom, but he doesn’t get far before something grabs his attention; a sound, and not a particularly nice sound. A gasp for air.

“Seungmin, are you up?” He says softly, and his heart pounds louder than his voice. One ear pressed against the door is his second mistake; the first being approaching it at all.

you…fucking…don’t fight me…do not touch me

“What the hell?”

A few seconds pass, and silence takes over. Heecheol is afraid to move in case the hardwood floor squeaks and gives him away, so he hears something else—a quiet groan, but it’s not Seungmin’s voice. He takes a chance when he starts to speak again, and somehow manages to make it to the nursery and close the door behind him. Just in time. The door opens, and light fills the living room. Heecheol’s view from the keyhole is a little too good, because the reflection on the knife seems to bounce right off of his door. The weapon almost distracts him from the fact that Seungmin’s hands are covered in blood, and a splatter of it managed to travel across his cheek. The bathroom light illuminates things a little more—Seungmin disappears inside, and Heecheol waits motionless; breathing in shaky breaths, and letting them out quietly. What is he witnessing right now? What did his friend do?

The bathroom water runs for a few minutes, and then he emerges again with a clean knife in his clean hands. The front door clicks, but there’s no way he’s leaving the apartment with a body (maybe—he doesn’t know if there’s a body anywhere…he could just be in a very vivid nightmare for all he knows) laying in his bedroom. Heecheol waits it out for another few minutes, but manages to unstick himself from his spot and grab his phone. A well-timed text might help clear things up, or confirm some very scary suspicions, but when he pulls up the message thread, he can’t do it.

The door opens and another light clicks on, and Seungmin is heading back to the bedroom. Thanks to the extra light, he can very clearly see what he’s now carrying; a neatly folded tarp, or…some type of plastic. A drop cloth you’d use while painting, possibly. And a bucket, he assumes full of cleaning supplies. There wasn’t much doubt in what he was hearing and seeing, especially with a knife in hand, but this confirms what he’s really, truly trying to push out of his head. Seungmin is preparing to dispose of a body, right in front of his eyes. Is he not worried Heecheol will hear or see him? “Maybe you’re not all there right now,” he whispers as he turns and somehow still gives his friend the benefit of the doubt; but not really…he knows what’s happening, sure, but maybe there’s something more. “What is wrong with me…he just killed someone, quietly…oh, Mo, what the hell is going on?”

He should be planning his escape right now—packing up and heading to the train station or finding a hotel. Why isn’t he moving?

A thud, the sound of plastic, and then he appears again, slowly. Seungmin comes back into his field of vision, back first, pulling the wrapped body little by little. He can’t make out much except a vague idea of size, and it’s not very small. Seungmin grunts a little each time he pulls, and then you hear his phone. Of course he turned the sound on in case you called or messaged him. Of course it’s you. He drops what he’s doing and hops over the body as he runs for it, and he gets there before you hang up.

“Hi sweetie, you’re up late…is everything okay?”

…nothing quite as frustrating as hearing one side of the conversation, Heecheol thinks. But not for long. Seungmin puts it on speaker and puts the phone in his pocket so he can continue. Apparently, Seungmin's mental break erased Heecheol from the equation.

why are you up so late? You don’t sound like you were sleeping

“I slept all day. I bet you did, too. How are you feeling?”

Yeah I fell asleep right after dinner. Did you eat? What are you doing?

“Uh, no…I haven’t eaten, not yet”

is Heecheol still there?

Hearing Seungmin say his name sends him into a panic, and he has to cup his head over his mouth to quiet his breaths.

“Is…Heecheol?” Seungmin pulls one more time, stops, and stands up straight. “Uhm…”

Minnie, what was that? What are you doing?

…and then he turns his head toward the nursery door. “Nuh…nothing.”

did you leave and come back with someone? Please tell me you didn’t do that, not right now…baby

Seungmin does something stupid. He’s never hung up on you, or ignored you; not until tonight. He hits the end call button and shoves the phone back in his pocket, and now Heecheol watches him approach. He freezes for a few more steps, but manages to quietly slip back under the covers and pretend to sleep.

“Heecheol?”

His heart feels on the brink of giving out. There’s no way he’ll fall for the fake sleeping unless he can relax. The door clicks and squeaks a little as it’s pushed open.

“Cheoli, are you...”

Deep, steady breaths. No, sound asleep…he heard nothing, and he saw nothing. But he’s not in the clear yet, because Seungmin is still there watching. Heecheol hears him sigh.

“...awake?”

The doors squeaks again, clicks shut, and Heecheol finally shifts. The phone rings again, so he knows Seungmin has returned to his job.

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

Don’t ever hang up on me like that

“I’m sorry, I am…I don’t know why I did this”

He must have turned the speaker off, but Heecheol can still hear you—your voice carries easily in the quiet apartment.

Are you at home? Did you finish?

“Yeah, almost. I made a mess, though.”

oh, no…

“Everything will be fine. I’ll clean up. Heecheol was asleep when I just looked in on him.”

No, Seungmin it’s happening again

“What, what’s happening?”

There’s no real answer on your end of the conversation, but there’s a horrible, anguished wail. The labor pains have already returned.

“Fuck, I’ll be there as soon as I can”

The call ends, and Heecheol is still stuck. Seungmin can’t run off with a dead body in the middle of the floor, so he has to clean up before he leaves, but he might not have much time. He can hear the sounds of him banging around, and he can’t begin to imagine how he’s taking care of this.

Seungmin grabs the end of the plastic again and pulls. He’s moving faster now, because he has to, and a few seconds later he’s out of the front door. The next apartment; the empty one they’ve started using as storage, is thirty feet down the hall, and Seungmin covers it quickly. Adrenaline pumping through him should make quick work of this.

The slam of the neighboring door gets Heecheol up again and peeking through the keyhole. He catches sight of Seungmin running by and pulling off his top, and after a few minutes of changing and cleaning up any leftover blood (he assumes), Seungmin bolts by again, slams the door shut, and everything goes quiet again.

“What the…fuck?” It’s strange hearing himself after the terrified silence. “Seungmin, what the fuck?” Now what is he supposed to do? Stay? Leaving in the middle of the night is out of the question, unless he wants to make it obvious he actually did witness a murder. Seungmin might have to get rid of him or anyone who knows—apparently not you, though. You knew exactly what he was up to, and even though you weren’t thrilled about it, you’re still here and carrying his children. Tokki should have dropped me and ran more than once already, but…I’ve been lucky. I’m not easy to deal with. He thinks he knows at least one reason why Seungmin is difficult. It’s almost 2am when he checks his phone again. In another minute, he’ll text him:

I heard the front door slam, and you were gone when I checked…everything okay?

It’s less than three kilometers to the hospital, so driving there at this hour should be quick. It takes three more minutes for a reply:

Yes I’m sorry Cheoli. I panicked and ran. I didn’t wanna wake you, but I’ll keep you updated.

If you can. Let me know if you need anything.

Maybe he doesn’t suspect anything. He is typically a deep sleeper, and Seungmin might remember that from when they were kids—hopefully he does. Heecheol is more worried about you, actually. You might not believe he missed the entire ordeal—you’re going to suspect he witnessed everything, even is Seungmin doesn’t. He needs time to process this, and the first thing he does is check the bedroom. It looks the same as it did last night, but it smells like a mix of disinfectant and the coppery scent of blood. The open balcony door hasn’t helped air it out yet. The only other thing that seems off is the wooden box sitting on his side of the bed. It’s closed, but it isn’t locked. “Oh no,” he cringes when he sees what’s inside; the knife, clean and back in its sheath; nylon rope; syringes; handcuffs.

It feels stupid as he’s doing it, but he heads to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of tea. He checks one of the cupboards and finds a hoard of snacks that he can only assume belongs to you. He pulls out an already open bag of chips and starts to eat while his tea steeps.

A few minutes later, a text message comes through, and it’s from Seungmin.

They can’t stop it this time, they’re preparing for delivery

“Damn. I’m sorry, buddy.” He says it out loud to himself, and immediately feels a horrible swirl in his stomach. Hours ago, he knew Seungmin deserved all of the good things he was finally getting. A good relationship, and a family of his own. He’s been through a lot, and Heecheol doesn’t even know how terrible Seungmin’s childhood actually was, but he just killed someone in his bedroom. It’s possible that both of you are killing; some sick version Natural Born Killers come to life. Is that actually how you two met?

It’ll be okay. They’ll take good care of them. All three of them.

They won’t let me in the room. They said I have to wait until things are more stable.

That’s normal. Just stay calm and they’ll let you in as soon as they can. I’m sure she’s asking for you. I can make my way down there.

He can?

Can you, Cheoli? I’m sorry you have to come down alone

Yes, he can. Seungmin needs him.

I’ll look for a ride right now

This has been his worst day in a very long time, and he can feel it in every single nerve in his body. His head aches, and his joints do, too; his heart hasn’t stopped racing since he woke from his very long nap. But his friend is coming to be by his side, and thinking about how close he came to ruining things is making him sick to his stomach. You, in that room, alone and in pain, has him on the verge of crying and screaming at everyone he sees sitting calmly in front of him. Can they not see how distressed he is? Why isn’t anyone telling him how you are?

“Hey, Mo”

Seungmin jumps, but smiles when Heecheol sits next to him in maternity waiting room. One of the nurses glances at them, but says nothing. “Thanks for coming.”

“That’s what friends are for.” He looks down at Seungmin’s fidgeting hands and sees blood that isn’t there. “Haven’t heard anything new?”

“No, I feel like everyone is ignoring me”

“I’m sure they’re not. It’s a stressful situation, and everyone is focused on making sure Tokki and the babies are both safe.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“We’ll hear something soon”

***

The pain meds took hold, and the nurse made sure to tell you how lucky you are that they pushed them in time. Everything from your stomach to your knees is a partially numb, but every time you take a breath, you feel the pain.

“I’m going to see if things are progressing…” a nurse says and pushes hard on one of your knees. She speaks to another nurse first, than to you. “Still five centimeters.”

Still. You’ve been at five since the pains first started. “When can I see Seungmin?”

“Seungmin?” One looks to the other and asks.

“Nampyeonbun”

“Oh…the cute, pouty one sitting in the waiting room? She whispers in Korean to her partner. “Soon, you’ll see him soon”

You look everywhere for your phone, but one of them must have taken it when things started getting chaotic.

“Don’t cry, everything will be fine. Doctor will be here soon, and she’ll know exactly what to do.”

She will, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s too soon, and it’s very possible that, no matter how smoothly the delivery goes, you could still lose one, or even both of them. That can’t happen—you won’t be able to handle losing what you thought you never wanted, or failing to keep his children alive. And Seungmin won’t be able to cope with losing another piece of himself.

“Should we go get him?”

Just as she asks, the doctor arrives, only slightly deshelved from the 2am phone call. She smiles at you just like before; a bad attempt at hiding her obvious concern. “Where’s dad? Not sleeping, I’m sure.”

“I was just going to get him”

The other nurse moves to stand by your bedside. “No progress in dilation for an hour. Five centimeters, currently.”

“Thank you. Did the epidural work?”

“Sort of”

“If you don’t progress in the next half an hour, we should consider other options.”

The nurse returns, and Seungmin comes in quietly behind her. He’s pale, and his cheeks are red and blotchy. He looks as if he’s been awake for two days straight. His approach is hesitant at first, as if he’s afraid to touch you, but when you whisper his name, he breaks out into a smile. “Hey.” He touches your hand and you pull him until he puts his arms around you. “Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

“I’m not, I promise”

“We were just discussing other options that may become necessary”

“What options?” Seungmin asks.

“Heart rates have returned to normal, but they may not stay that way. C-section would be less stressful for mom, and less traumatic for the boys.”

He looks to you, hopeful, thinking that’s an easy solution to this problem. “Is that something you would want?”

It might be. “If I have to, I will.”

“Okay,” the doctor nods. “Only if necessary. We’ll check again in thirty minutes. We’ll leave you two alone, but call if you need anything.”

***

The two of you stare silently at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Seungmin squeezes your hand, and eventually drops his gaze to your stomach. His other hand feels for any movement.

“What happened?”

“Not sure. I woke up and…it felt like what I had to do. Maybe all the worry and stress caught up to me.”

You squeeze back. “I’m only upset because I’m worried you were disassociating again, and not all there. Do you remember everything? Did he see you?”

The finer details are already lost on him, now that you mention it. He’s forgetting this, just like he couldn’t remember wandering into the woods, or what he did while he was there. He doesn’t even remember the feeling creeping up on him; the voice pushing him to do it. What he does remember is making a mess. The knife seemed like the obvious solution to quell the need. “Some. And no, I don’t think so. He’s in the waiting room.”

“He’s here?”

Seungmin nods, and you reach out to rub a spot on his neck. “I didn’t have time to clean up properly...what is it?” It feels like he’s setting off your pains. Every time he does something stupid, they return. “Should I call someone back?”

“I know I can’t push but…fuck, they’re making it very hard”

“Okay, you’re supposed to do the breathing techniques, right? No pushing, just nice big breaths.”

You breath in and out as steadily and calmly as possible, and Seungmin does it with you. It feels good doing it with him, and eventually, the contraction passes.

“No meds for the pain?”

“Yeah, it helped a little. I can still feel it.”

He’s surprisingly calm, and maybe he’s truly confident that everything will be okay. The last twenty-four hours have been more than stressful, and his kill seems to have grounded him—at least he’s gained that much. Not having him clear-headed and here with you is something you let yourself worry about far too much.

Another pain shoots through you, this time a little worse. He panics and pushes the call button on the side of your bed, and the doctor makes it in the see the very end of your contraction.

“Was that your first contraction since we left?”

“Second”

“Let’s check things out.” She pats your knee sweetly, and her bedside manner is a relief compared to both of your nurses. A few seconds into her inspection, and again you’re relieved to see a non-worried smile on her face. “Good, almost there. One more contraction and you might be ready to let them out.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to wash up and change, and dad is going to join me so he can stay.”

For five minutes, you’re completely alone again. The only sound is the woosh of two heartbeats, and when you look at the machine you’re hooked up to, you see your own heart rate sitting at 90. Baby 1 is 125, and baby 2 is 130. It occurs to you now that the two of you haven’t discussed who is who, so it’s the first thing you say when he walks back in, and he’s almost unrecognizable in his mask and gown.

“First born…Haneul or Haesung?”

Seungmin adjusts his mask, and his eyes look even more intense peeking over it. “Huh? Oh, who is Haneul and…I guess we never thought about that part. Should the oldest be Sky? And Haesung is little brother.”

“That sounds good”

The mask doesn’t hide his sudden worry. That’s all in his eyes, but he does his best to keep his mind on you. Seungmin made sure to update Heecheol before getting ready, and before he got his attention, he looked lost. He looked like he wasn’t sure which direction to go in. Heecheol’s foot tapped nervously, and he was chewing on his fingers, but Seungmin doesn’t think any of that was because of the situation they’re in here at the hospital. No. Now he’s wondering if Heecheol did hear something. Or worse—see something. As soon as he saw him approach, he perked up and gave him a smile.

“Delivery time. You can stick around if you’d like, or I can call a ride and you can get some sleep. I’m sorry your visit has been so strange.”

Strange doesn’t quite cover it. Running to and from the hospital has been very normal by comparison, and honestly, good bonding time for him and Seungmin. “How about I stick around for a little longer, and then when I know everything is okay, I’ll head back and put that nursery together.”

“You don’t have to do that”

“I know. But I’d like to. I’ll make myself something, get some coffee going, and you stay here as long as you need to.”

“Cheoli, I…when I say I don’t deserve a friend like you, I mean it. If things go well tonight, and I desperately need them to, it’s not because I deserve anything. Tokki does. I don’t.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“My heart, and my very damaged head”

He shakes his head and forces himself to smile. Does he know he knows? Is he attempting damage control? No. Heecheol doesn’t really think that’s the case. That might be part of it, but the bigger part is his sincerity, and his genuine aversion to himself. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

***

The doctors voice is floating somewhere in the room, but you can’t catch all the words. Her face is between your legs, and Seungmin has decided he doesn’t need to see what’s happening down there. He has your hand cupped between his, and he keeps putting his face into the sheets out of frustration. You’re dilated, but nothing is happening. You haven’t felt the urge to push in at least ten minutes.

Two incubators are pushed against the wall, ready and waiting, and every time you catch sight of them, it makes you a little more nervous. “Tell them to come out,” you whine, and the doctor laughs when she hears you.

“I think they’re going to listen to one of you better than me. Go ahead, talk to them.”

Seungmin takes her advice and scoots a few inches to his right. He bends close enough to set his lips against the little bit of skin showing between your gown and the blanket draped over your lap. “Are you two sleeping? It’s not a good time…you can nap after you come out and say hello.” He stops and waits a few seconds. “Please, I know it’s early but I would really like to meet you.”

Another few seconds, and you start to relax again, but you should know better. This isn’t the first, or second, or third time they’ve responded to his voice. This contraction doesn’t hit hard—it progresses slowly until you can’t take the pressure…

“Deep breath and a nice, slow push…good! Slow and steady. We have an appearance.”

“We do?”

“Hopefully you’ll only have a moment to rest, and then one push should give us your first born.”

She’s right. You get three full breaths before the next one comes, and when you push, you think Seungmin might crush your fingers under his grip.

“Good…keep pushing, very good. There he is, baby boy number one.”

All you see is the top of her head as she works quietly, and Haneul is quiet, too. Seungmin doesn’t move, but he does soften his grip.

“You worked hard, little one. I know you can cry for us.”

Seungmin takes a step towards them. “What’s wrong?” He’s wrapped and cradled in her arms, and sees a tiny foot and the briefest glimps of his face as he’s handed to one of the nurses. “Is he okay?”

“Just making sure his airways are clear, no need to worry.”

The nurse suctions his mouth and each nostril before setting him down and pulling at his blanket, and it’s right now that Seungmin gets his first real look him Haneul. Too small, but otherwise, he looks just like he imagined him all this time. There’s more hair on his head, though—for some reason, he wasn’t expecting so much already. His quiet cry finally comes, and everyone sighs in relief. It gets louder and louder until he’s wrapped up tight again.

“He sounds pretty strong for barely twenty-six weeks. Let’s get him comfortable, and after little brother arrives, we’ll bring them back in for a visit.”

The doctor takes her place between your legs again, and you try your best to tell him it’s time. Following his brother out should come naturally, right? You would really prefer them to only be minutes apart, because if you have to wait another ten—twenty minutes like this, you’re going to start crying.

“Hey, you okay?” Seungmin cups your cheeks and makes you look at him.

“Did you see him?”

“A little, yeah”

Lucky you; the contraction hits quickly, and it’s the worst one. The partial numbness is fading, and it might be in your head, but you’re certain you feel every part of him as he makes his way out. No scream, though. You decide to do that inside your own head so Haesung comes out to a calmer, more peaceful room

“Oh, that was fast…very good”

Seungmin doesn’t inch closer for a look; he retreats until he’s at your side again, and you wonder if he’s afraid of not hearing another little cry. His stare gives you his answer. “He’ll be okay. They’ll both be okay.”

The doctor stands, and you see him as she turns and heads toward the table. Again, just like his brother, his airways are cleared. And Seungmin inches closer.

“Please, don’t punish him for what I’ve done”

You hear him whisper, and you wonder if anyone else does.

She looks back and beckons him closer, and he hesitates again. “Come here and say something to him.”

Seungmin takes a few steps closer, and when he finally sees Haesung, he can’t believe how small he is. Smaller than his brother, he thinks, and with a little less hair. “Hi baby. Haesung, do you know who I am?”

You can make out almost every word of his soft, slow Korean from here. It feels strange to understand him after so much trying, but you do. He shifts a little so you can see better; you can see both of them as Seungmin runs his finger across an arm that isn’t much different in size. There’s still no dramatic cry, but he’s moving the only way something so new and weak can manage, and you do hear the tiny fussy noises all the way across the room. The doctor doesn’t seem worried, so you aren’t either.

***

Being left in the room alone to wait and wonder is excruciating...so much more difficult than anything has been the last twenty-four hours. There’s so much you can say to him, and ask him, but it’s not the time. It might not be the time until his friend questions and accuses Seungmin of the things you know he witnessed. This is really the only way to keep your mind off of the twins—you have to wonder if Heecheol is putting the Haldol and the strange behavior together; your question about him wandering into the woods as a child; his failed attempt to open up about something to both of you.

“Is Heecheol still here?”

“I think so. I let him know what was going on a few minutes ago, but he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Okay, let me know when he does”

The nurse finally returns, and she’s pulling something in behind her. The second nurse pushes from the other end, and you finally get your second wind. It no longer feels like you're running on almost no sleep. They’re here, and they must be okay if they’re coming to visit. No doctor coming in alone to break the bad news that one, or both of them, have a very slim chance of making it more than a few days. A few hours. You kept trying to prepare yourself for that moment to come, just in case, but no amount of that could ever make things any easier.

And you’re pleased to see a new, much happier looking nurse with them. She must be one of their new carers in the NICU.

“Baby Haneul is 1.3 kilograms, much bigger than we expected! Baby Haesung is 1.14 kilograms. They are both breathing well with a little bit of help from the incubator, and they are very excited to see you.”

Seungmin backs away as they’re rolled closer to the bed. Everything still feels a little bit dreamy to him, even as he looks down and sees them, face to face, arms carefully entertwined as if they can't get close enough. "They're both alright?" They were safe inside of you. They were warm, and well fed. Every night, Seungmin spoke to them, or read them stories. A few times, he sang. And now…

"Haesung is not quite as strong as his brother, but being cuddled up together will help get him there."

"It will?"

The nurse nods at both of you. "I'll leave the four of you alone to meet each other, but please ring the bell if you need anything."

She leaves, and suddenly, it's just him…and you…and them. The four of you. He sits so he can be at eye level and takes in everything about them; the little bit of dark hair, and tiny noses. Their perfect tiny lips, pursing and puckering as if they're waiting for their first real meal.

“They have your ears”

Seungmin cups his hands over them, “do they?” He tugs at his earlobes and smiles as he examines a little closer. “Can we touch them?”

“Yeah, you can”

This part is hard for him, no matter how excited he is. Before he reaches, you watch him get up and walk across the room where the sink is, and he washes his hands for the third time since they were taken from the room. He takes his time, inching closer and closer until Haneul shifts, and Seungmin’s fingertip moves softly across his shoulder. He squirms a little, and his arms seem to tighten around his brother. Now he’s feeling more confident, and he very gently runs the same finger over the helix of his ear. And then he does the same to Haesung. “Can you hear me in there?” Seungmin asks. “Do you recognize my voice?”

They both move and fuss a little more, as if answering.

“I think they do”

“You understood what I said?”

You wince as you adjust yourself and sit up. “Uh, I think so—mogsoli…nae mogsoli. Your voice…yeah, they know your voice, Min.”

“Gimme your hand.” He wiggles his fingers above them, close to the portal hole on your side, and he latches onto your fingers.

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alittlegiraffe · 1 day ago

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Title: Whispers in the Studio

Chapter 3: A Quiet Kind of Love

The weeks that followed were a delicate dance between the comfort of what had changed and the uncertainty of what was to come. You and Marshall had established a new rhythm between the two of you, a quiet understanding that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. It was as if, for the first time, you had both let down your walls.

The studio had become your sanctuary—a place where your connection deepened, unburdened by the distractions of the outside world. There were still moments when Marshall's sharp edge would return, when the weight of his career or the pressures of his past would cloud his thoughts. But he didn’t shy away from being vulnerable with you. You’d become his anchor in a sea of chaos.

And for you, the closeness between the two of you was both a comfort and a challenge. You weren’t used to being seen so completely, to have someone truly notice the smallest things about you. Marshall saw you—really, truly saw you. He’d always appreciated your loyalty, your dedication, but now, he seemed to want more. He asked about your day, your thoughts, your dreams. He cared. And somehow, that made everything both easier and harder.

It was one late afternoon when things shifted again. The studio was quiet except for the low hum of a new track Marshall had been working on. It was raw—almost painfully honest—and you couldn’t help but wonder if the words were meant for someone. For you.

You glanced over at him, watching as he sat hunched over the mixing desk, his fingers moving instinctively over the buttons and knobs. His head was down, his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him, but there was a tension in the air. It was subtle—almost imperceptible—but you felt it, like the calm before a storm.

“Something’s wrong,” you said softly, your gentle voice cutting through the quiet.

Marshall didn’t look up at first, but he paused, his hands stilling over the desk. He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s nothing. Just the usual bullshit.”

You raised an eyebrow, concerned. Marshall had always prided himself on his ability to hide his emotions, but he wasn’t fooling you. You had seen the way he would retreat into himself when things got overwhelming. He was good at masking his pain with humor or music, but you knew better.

“Talk to me,” you said, moving closer to him. “You know I’m here, right?”

He finally looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours. There was something in his gaze—something that looked almost lost. “I know. I just... sometimes it feels like I’m running on fumes, you know? Like I’m just going through the motions, and I can’t even remember what I’m doing this for anymore.”

Your heart ached for him. You knew that feeling—the emptiness that came with the constant pressure of living up to other people’s expectations. Marshall had always been the center of the storm, but you could see now how it was starting to wear on him.

“I get it,” you said quietly, sitting beside him on the couch. “But you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, Marshall.”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, his usual sharp edge dulled. “It’s not that. It’s just... everything is always so loud. The pressure, the fame, the expectations. It’s like I can never escape it, no matter how much I want to. Sometimes, I just want to be... just Marshall. Just the guy who writes lyrics and hangs out with his team.”

You nodded, understanding more than he realized. You had watched him struggle with the weight of his own success for years, always trying to keep up with the persona that everyone expected him to be. But you knew the man behind the mask—the one who craved peace, who wanted to be loved without the world looking over his shoulder.

“You are Marshall,” you said, her voice soft but firm. “You’re more than just the music. You’re more than just the fame. And I see you. All of you.”

He turned to you then, his gaze intense, as though searching for the truth in your eyes. “You really do see me, huh?”

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. You had never been surer of anything in your life. “I always have.”

For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, just staring at each other. The weight of everything that you had both been carrying seemed to lift just a little, like you were finding comfort in the understanding that had always existed between you.

And then, Marshall reached out, his hand gently touching yours. The contact was tentative at first, as though he were testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You’ve been there for me through everything. Through all the mess, the mistakes, the chaos. And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, but there was a vulnerability in his voice that made you ache for him even more. You had always been there for him, but now, you were starting to wonder if it was because you had always needed him just as much.

“You don’t have to deserve me,” you whispered. “I’m here because I want to be. I’ve always wanted to be.”

Marshall’s gaze softened, and for the first time in your life, he looked at you with the kind of tenderness that made you feel like you could breathe fully, in a way no man ever had. He leaned in slowly, his face inches from yours, and for a heartbeat, time seemed to stop. The world outside the studio, the music, the fame—none of it mattered anymore.

And then, with a gentleness that took you by surprise, he kissed you.

It wasn’t like the first kiss, with the rush of emotions and uncertainty, or the handful of gentle probing kisses since. This time, it was different. It was slow, deliberate, like he was taking his time to savor every moment of it. Like he wanted to map out your lips and know every detail. His lips were warm against yours, and the weight of everything—every unsaid word, every quiet feeling—was finally shared between you in one electric moment.

When you pulled apart, neither of you spoke. Words didn’t seem necessary anymore. You were just two people who understood each other in a way that no one else ever could. Two people who had been broken, both in different ways, but who had somehow found healing in each other.

Marshall took a deep breath, resting his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

You smiled softly; your heart full. “You don’t have to thank me, Marshall. I’m right here. Always.”

And in that moment, in the quiet that followed, you realized something—something you had always known, but never allowed yourself to truly believe.

You were exactly where you were both meant to be. Together.

#eminem x reader #eminem #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader

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glittertimes · 1 year ago

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Do you ever look back at old photos and think “wow life wasn’t so bad back then I just hated myself” lol

#if I look back on this year I did so many fun things #I let my little breakup in the last month of the year ruin how I saw it for a bit #but I did have fun and that time wasn’t wasted even if I’m not quite where I want to be #and I think I’m really starting to like who I am these days #it feels like I’m on the right track again even if I still feel a little sad and lost most days #ofc none of this dismisses any difficult things I went through or how I felt back then #I’m just realizing I made myself feel worse by shaming myself for things that weren’t my fault lol #personal

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creaturebehavior · 2 years ago

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like literal clockwork

i start feeling pissed off at little things. i check my period tracker. two weeks until my period

every single month

#part of why this blows my mind is because i didn’t have a regular period when i was younger #and i also didn’t track my periods or know how to just tell when i was ovulating #so now that my period is regular and i’m in tune with my cycle it’s wild how even though i’m completely dissociated from time and days #i don’t work and i’m always in my room so every day blurs together #but still i intuitively know every month what part of my cycle i’m in just by the way i’m feeling #and every time i check my tracker it’s like yeah these feelings and symptoms line up i was right again

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northwestofinsanity · 4 months ago

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youtube

What a mood…

#Crowded House #Four Seasons In One Day #I’m still feeling this one 100%#pretty much had it on loop this morning while I was studying in the commons at school (since there wasn’t lecture until the afternoon)#been raining lightly here all day yet the sun would come out and then it would get all dark again in like 20 minute intervals #it’s also that season in the Appalachian Mountains where there’s a 30 to 40 degree swing of temperature between morning and afternoon #happy with how school has been going #sad because of other reasons (including another emotional support band that is not being good emotional support right now)#hell bovine lab even made *that* one line relevant yesterday #so I’m just gonna vibe with this subdued track that is sad yet comforting #Youtube

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luveline · 2 months ago

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𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]

c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

Spencer wakes to an empty room.

He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.

He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls.

Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay.

Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case.

A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.

Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him?

He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens.

You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway.

Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates.

“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.

He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.”

You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?

“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.”

“They cut my hair?” he croaks.

“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”

“I…”

“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows.

“You look different than the last time I saw you.”

He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?

“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets.

Your fingers slip into his with ease.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves.

“Of course you can.”

He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…”

“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?”

You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart.

“What happened to you?” he asks.

Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask.

“What…”

“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes.

“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.

“Spencer?”

Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap.

His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says.

“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.”

“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.”

“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously.

“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing.

Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again.

—

“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks.

You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap.

“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.”

“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek.

Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.”

“But I do eventually?”

“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly.

You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.”

“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says.

“Sort of,” Spencer says.

It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then.

“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks.

Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?”

You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”

“Not you?” he asks.

You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.”

When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag.

You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it.

“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer.

“Uh.”

“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.”

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says.

He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out.

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”

Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.”

“You dog,” Derek says.

“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.”

“I do know you,” Spencer says.

“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table.

Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.”

“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says.

Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.”

“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.”

“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.”

“Every week?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“We’re never apart?” he asks.

His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks.

“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze.

Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks.

Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too.

“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.”

“We do?”

“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.”

“We did?”

You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.”

“How do you love?”

His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day. “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.”

“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says.

“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh.

“I just can’t believe this is happening.”

You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.”

He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger.

“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”

It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Anything.”

He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams.

“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.”

“Who wouldn’t like you?”

“But did you?”

He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.”

“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.”

You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?”

“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily.

“What do you think?”

“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.”

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”

He gives a choky laugh.

The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you.

Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock.

“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly.

“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”

Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?”

Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”

“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.”

“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile.

“Has she been kind to you, Reid?”

“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?”

Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.

—

It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on.

You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space.

Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.

Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss.

He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely.

Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him.

“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”

You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!”

You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.”

“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.”

You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?”

He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.”

You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.”

He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.”

You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.”

He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”

“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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insanechayne · 1 year ago

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~ ~ ~

#Christmas is over so now back to my regularly scheduled depression I guess #I was feeling good almost the whole day through but of course then it gets late and the holiday is over and I’m just sad again #and a lot of that sadness is from missing you and thinking about you and feeling like nothing between us ever changes for the better #the realization that we’ll always be running the same track no matter how many times I try to change or fix that #knowing I’m still going to try one more time in a desperate attempt to keep you mine #but I have a feeling you’ll rebuff me and that’ll be the final straw and I’ll have to end things so I don’t keep getting hurt #now I’m just sad because there’s so much I want to say to you but I can’t because you’re not here #even just to have some time with you for a regular conversation would be akin to a blessing right now #but I know I’ll get one message before you go to bed and then not hear from you again until tomorrow night #I just keep wondering if this is worth it at all or why I even keep trying #I’m running out of reasons to try to keep you around even as I’m so desperate not to have to let you go #back to creating distance and trying to push myself back away from you so that things are easier down the road #hoping you’ll pick up on any kind of hint even though I know you won’t #personal

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago

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Seeing kny men shirtless for the first time

Pairings: Rengoku x fem!reader; Gyomei x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader (bonus: all hashira men x fem!reader)

Word Count: 3,2k

Warnings: this might be a little shitty so be nice pls, this is actually the first time I ever wrote for Gyomei so please please please let me know what you think! not 100% proofread 🥹🤍

Rengoku Kyojuro

“Have you seen Rengoku-san? There’s something I want to ask him about our upcoming mission.”

Tengen tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, lips unable to keep that dirty grin off his face. Yeah, surely you’re asking for a mission and not because you’re having a crush on the flame hashira since joining the pillars.

“He went outside in the gardens to view the blooming roses”, he lies oh so innocently.

A bright smile creeps up your face, heart already skipping a beat in excitement. If you were only brave enough to finally ask Kyojuro out, how easier your life would be if you’d just keep your distance to him. But the prospect of seeing him alone is enough for your mind to go blank. Hopefully, the others don’t notice.

“Thank you so much, Tengen”, you blurt out with a hasty bow before yanking out of the room.

“Didn’t he say he wanted to change since he sweated so much during training?”, Shinobu thinks out loud.

“Yeah, that’s going to be a lot of fun”, Tengen replies with a smirk plastered onto his face.

Your mind races back and forth as you make your way to the gardens. What will you even ask him? Maybe what he has planned, if he already knows something? What if you mess up? This is actually the first time you and Kyojuro got assigned a mission together. You have to make a good impression or otherwise, he won’t take you with him again.

“Rengoku-san, I don’t mean to disturb you, but I have a few questions regarding the ne-“

Your breath gets stuck in your throat immediately, feet coming to a rapid stand.

There he is, the flame hashira.

Shirtless, his upper body soaking wet while he empties a bucket of water over his head.

“Oh, (y/n)! I didn’t expect you here!”, he announces with his eyes widened.

You can’t even blink, mind going dull. You always secretly imagined what Kyojuro might look like underneath that uniform, if his muscles look as buff as they feel underneath your touch while training.

And they do.

Oh god, they definitely do.

“I-I…Tengen told me that…You’re here to see…the roses”, you blurt out, still unable to look away.

“Indeed! But before that, I really needed to change my uniform since I sweated a lot during training.”

“Yeah, I can see that”, you mumble.

“(y/n), are you not feeling well? You look quite red from afar. Allow me to check on you.”

When he suddenly starts walking towards you with his chest muscles tensing with each and every step, you feel like fainting. Of course you never doubted that this man looks good underneath that uniform, but this?

“Your cheeks are really hot”, he comments while running his wet hand up and down your cheek.

“I…I…”

Your mind is a mess, not a single thought is making sense right now. Are you dreaming? Is that really Rengoku Kyojuro standing in front of you with his abs glittering in the heat of the sun, so close that you’d be able to touch him.

“Maybe you should go and see Shinobu-“

“I’m flustered!”, you finally cry out like an idiot.

Only to regret your words immediately.

His hand stops right in its tracks, the piercing presence of his orbs forcing you to look up at him.

“Why would you be flustered, (y/n)?”, he questions innocently.

May the ground swallow you whole in hope you’ll never return. God, why does this have to be so embarrassing? You’ll definitely have a word with Tengen when this is over.

“Because I…I have a crush on you, Kyojuro.”

The words you never dared to say out loud, that lingered through your mind each and every time you saw him. Like a rock, they fall off your chest while a wave of pure panic starts rushing over you.

You just confessed your feelings to him.

Him, Rengoku Kyojuro.

“I think I need to go now”, you blurt out, already starting to turn away when Kyojuro grabs your wrist gently.

“Please don’t go, (y/n). Actually, I feel the same way about you.”

He sweeps you around so rapidly that you are forced against something as hard as a wall. Did he accidentally throw you against a wall, the nearby tree?

The second you open your eyes again, you stare at his bare chest, only millimetres away from your face.

That wasn’t a wall.

“I had an eye on you since the first time I saw you. You are just…so amazing!”, he confesses with a passion that is even unusual for him.

“Kyojuro, I…”

Your bare face touched his naked chest.

“I…”

And don’t get started on his sight, his broad chest, the muscles that flex when he grabs your shoulders passionately.

“I…I can’t…”

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? A cat got your tongue?”, Tengen jeers from behind.

All your senses seem to come back to you in the split of a second when a wave of anger washes over you.

“You little…Why did you do that!?”, you cry out while storming towards the much taller man.

“Because your face looks very flashy when it’s this red.”

Gyomei Himejima

To say that you are exhausted would be the understatement of a century. Being out in the scorching sun all day really took its toll on your already bruised body.

Not to mention the training methods of none other than the stone hashira himself.

Gyomei is not a stranger to you. You’ve known each other for quite some time by now, joining the demon slayer corps almost simultaneously. And that force of a man never failed to impress you.

You wrench your sweat-soaked clothes in the river while staring at your own reflection. Why are you even here, though? You might not be a hashira yet, but you trained with Gyomei countless times before. Over and over, you shoved rocks around and almost drowning in that exact river. At this point, the basic training of the corps members isn’t even enough for you to break a sweat. You find yourself shoving that rock 10 cho by now while carrying tree trunks on your back.

You furrow your eyebrows. Now that you think of it, you didn’t even catch a glimpse at Gyomei himself since being here. Apparently, the hashira training does keep him busy.

That sting of agony that pierces through your heart can’t be stopped, though. Over the span of those last years, you got to know the stone hashira better. Despite his tall and threatening appearance, he is the softest man you’ve ever known. So kind that he brought tears to your eyes more than once, so considerate that it’s hard to believe that this man lives alone.

It was inescapable for you to fall from him head over heels. And now you find yourself longing for his presence even though you know all too well that he is busy training the corps members.

“I didn’t expect to greet you here at this late hour.”

You almost trip over head-first into the water, caught by a strong hand last-minute before you take another dive into the river.

“I’m beyond sorry for scaring you like this, (y/n)”, an all too familiar voice continues while pushing you back on your feet.

Normally, the first thing you see is his demon slayer uniform and cloak draped around him in a somehow elegant way.

But not today.

You swallow hard, widened eyes blankly staring at his naked chest. This man standing in front of you…Gyomei wears nothing but his uniform pants.

“I…uh…don’t w-worry”, you stutter like an idiot, his arms still holding you in place gently.

“Did I interrupt you? I didn’t know that you were taking a bath.”

His soft voice paired with that sight in front of you. You’ve never seen him shirtless, never witnessed the way his veins pop out of his arms and how well formed he is underneath that uniform. It would be so easy to allow your fingertips a taste and let yourself discover his muscles even better, to just stretch out your hand and-

“Does it bother you that I am shirtless? I came here to take a bath myself.”

“Bother?”, you press out.

“I…I’m not bothered at all!”

“I guess I’m just a little…flustered…”

“Flustered?”, he repeats in confusion.

“If I make you feel uncomfortable, I’ll cover myself of course. I just noticed you were here and we haven’t seen each other for a long time by now.”

“I missed you”, he adds, forcing your world upside down for a minute.

Since you’ve got to know him, there was never more than friendly words between Gyomei and you. Not more than a shoulder rub, not more than motivating words from time to time. You never allowed yourself to compliment him or talk about anything apart from missions.

Until now. Until Gyomei confessed out of nowhere that he missed you.

While being shirtless

“I…missed you too”, you finally give in.

You allow your eyes a little glimpse at him. Just a little taste of his broad shoulders and how his veins stand out. Just a little something of his rock-hard abs, his enormous upper body that is usually covered by his uniform. Just one look at-

“I thought about you all the time, to be exact”, you breathe out before you even realize what you’re talking about.

“I’m feeling the same way, (y/n). Let me assure you that my heart beats just as fast as yours at the moment.”

Gently, he cups your hand with his and presses your palm against his bare chest, straight against his racing heart that pulsates against your skin.

Oh god. You feel like fainting any given minute, your very own heart pounding so hard that you might get a heart attack.

“Now, allow me to put on my uniform again so that we can have a proper-“

“Wait!”, you blurt out.

“Let’s just stay like this for uh…a little longer…”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

It’s hard to keep your palms from sweating when you know exactly where you’re going. To him, the wind hashira. The man who swept you off your feet without even trying, the man you haven’t seen in such a long time by now.

While Sanemi always kept himself busy with missions, you were assigned to a mission far away from home. It took you over a month to finally find the demon who was responsible for this mess. And eventually, Sanemi just stopped writing you letters or replying to your messages. Even though you were so sure that he might feel the same way about you, he proved you wrong.

In the most painful way.

“I can’t go any further, that’s exactly where he is”, you complain while following your crow around.

You know this path uncomfortably well, the way it leads you next to a river, through a field of strawberries. Straight into the wind hashira estate.

“Direct orders from Kagaya-sama! You need to undergo the hashira training!”

“I just returned from an exhausting mission, did you tell him that?”, you bark back only to get attacked by your stinky crow.

“So cheeky! Watch how you talk to me!”, it cries out, literally dragging you along with it while its beak bursts the skin of your cheek.

Your heart almost stops beating, pounding rougher and rougher against your ribcage with every step you take towards the wind hashira estate.

What if the man you still love rejects you? What if he breaks your heart in front of everyone else, if he speaks out those words you imagined when you waited another day for his reply?

You want to escape, want to get as far away from here as possible. But your unforgiving crow drags you with it until you find yourself at the front doors of his estate.

“Get yourself together, dumbass! Go inside and talk to him! GO!”

With one last bite it finally leaves you alone, right at the opened front door.

There’s nothing you’d like more than vanishing from this earth, to get swallowed whole. Why on earth does it have to be him first? Why aren’t you allowed to train with Tengen, Giyu, basically everyone else? Your heart races so hard inside your ribcage that it takes your breath away, eyes staring into the dark estate.

Is he even home?

You allow yourself to take a few steps into the building, to look around. No cries, no voices? Maybe he isn’t even home. Are they training somewhere else, in the nearby woods, maybe?

“Fuck!”

His voice almost sends you over the edge, forces your eyes to dart around in sheer horror. That was Sanemi, without any doubt. But is he alone?

What if he’s not?

What if he’s with a girl?

You swallow hard, the ugliest thoughts taking over your head when you hear water splashing from a room nearby.

You can’t help it. As quiet as possible, you make your way towards the room the sounds originate from, ready to find literally everything. What if that’s the reason he didn’t write you back? What if he fell in love with another woman and simply forgot about you?

Your eyes peek through the ever so slightly opened door.

And your jaw drops to the floor in an instant.

There he stands, nothing but a towel covering his private parts while droplets of water run down his naked back. Sanemi just washed himself.

But oh…

You can feel your mouth watering just by looking at the scars that cover his back, how delicious the water than runs down his neck seems. You’re only a few steps away from that force of a man, only a few steps in order to touch him. You always wondered what his skin feels like, if his outside is as rough as his inside. And what does he smell like straight out of the shower? Does he still smell like himself? And what about his abs-

All air drains from your compressed lungs as you suddenly find yourself pinned against the wall straight in Sanemi’s bathroom.

“Why the hell are you spying on me like some little freak?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I…wasn’t spying”, you press out, his distressed orbs meeting yours.

Fuck, you’re screwed.

“Oh yeah? Why were you standing outside my bathroom then? I didn’t even know you were back!”

“Because you never fucking asked”, you finally bark back.

He draws even closer, lingers over you like an unpromising shadow with his naked upper body still dripping. No, you have to concentrate on the fact that you’re mad as hell right now, there’s no room for inspecting his upper body.

But his abs definitely look as good as they feel.

“You were out on a mission, how the hell was I supposed to ask? I thought you’d just let me know when you’re back”, he bites back.

“Oh, could have tried answering my damn messages, maybe? Did you ever think about that!?”

“Me answering your messages? You never replied to me!”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What I’m talking about? I sent you countless messages and you never answered. I even asked Kagaya-sama if you died or something! I…I was so fucking worried…”

His heavy breath mixes with yours, caresses your oversensitive skin.

“But Sanemi…I did the same”, you finally mutter.

Sanemi’s chest rises and falls rapidly, a few water drops escaping the force of his skin. His oh so glowy skin. Of course you knew that this man would look good shirtless. But this? How are you supposed to stay focused when his skin turns pink ever so slightly, when his muscular chest moves like that?

“Can you stop staring at my abs and focus on me for one minute?”, he barks while flicking in front of your way too focused eyes.

You feel your cheeks heat up in an instant, glossy eyes staring at him like a caught deer. If there’s one thing that’s worse than checking Sanemi out, it’s definitely getting caught.

“Sorry, I have to go”, you mumble while pulling yourself away from him.

Only to find yourself wrapped in his naked arms even tighter.

“You’re not going anywhere. I just asked you something”, he warns you.

“Let go of me!”

“Did you…miss me?”

Your arms stop right in their tracks, widened eyes staring at his flustered face in sheer disbelief. There he stands, Sanemi Shinazugawa, straight out of the shower while asking you if you missed him?

“Yeah, always”, you reply out of instinct.

“Good. Because same.”

He doesn’t even give you the chance to second-guess your answer. In the split of a second, you get devoured by his muscular arms, your very own kimono soaking wet in an instant.

Are you dreaming?

“Wait, what?”, you breathe out.

“And you totally checked me out”, he adds proudly.

“I didn’t check you out-“

“Oh yeah?”

He lets go of you just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his delicious upper body again.

“Maybe a little bit…”

-Bonus-

You huff out in exhaustion. What the actual fuck were you thinking when you agreed on training with all hashira? Well, apparently not that you’d literally vomit all over yourself after getting hit without any mercy by all of them.

“That little fucker Shinazugawa”, you curse under your breath while stomping towards the wind hashira estate.

“I’ll kick your puny ass next time.”

Your feet drag you back to them with last strength. Rengoku, Tengen, Obanai, Shinazugawa, Tomioka…why on earth are all of them so damn strong? Super unfair.

“Have you seen how I beat the shit out of her?”, you hear Sanemi jeer from afar as well as the constant mumbling of the others.

“It wasn’t necessary to hit her this hard”, Giyu comments.

“Hell yes it was. Now that brat knows what she’s dealing with!”

All you see is red. Even though your body begs you to stop, you storm towards their voices.

“Listen up, you little shit-“

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, eyes darting around without a real aim.

There they stand. Shirtless. Every single one of them.

Oh.

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault that you’re a loser-“

Just this once, you’re actually able to ignore Sanemi’s shitty words. That toned abs Rengoku has, Tengen’s veiny arms, Obanai’s athletic build, the scars that compliment Sanemi’s muscles so well-

Why is it suddenly so hot?

“Are you okay, (y/n)?”, Giyu questions while rubbing the back of his head with a towel.

How is it possible that he looks this good underneath that loose uniform? You always expected Giyu to be rather athletic that muscular given his fast movements. But that mountain of a biceps definitely doesn’t lie.

“I…”

Not a single logical thought is left in your blank mind, eyes roaming back and forth between them.

“I need to go.”

In the matter of seconds, you disappear inside the wind hashira estate without a trace.

“Is (y/n) alright? She looked rather pale”, Rengoku thinks out loud, still staring at where you last stood.

“She was definitely checking me out”, Tengen announces proudly.

“You? Bet she was looking at me”, Sanemi jeers at the tall man.

“How are they so hot?”, you mumble to yourself while inspecting them through the window.

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