#she Should be allowed to burn the world to the ground

[jacqueline-01]

You're Safe With Me

A.H x Y.N

healing from toxic family, comfort, fluff

The boutique lights sparkled softly against the polished floors as you stood in front of a row of delicate necklaces. They gleamed like tiny constellations, arranged neatly on black velvet. Your fingers hovered over one—a simple gold chain with a small, crescent moon pendant. It wasn’t flashy, but something about it called to you.

You hesitated, heart pounding as your mind raced back to the echoes of your childhood.

“You don’t need that,” your mother’s sharp voice rang in your ears, cutting through the calm of the present. “Why are you even looking at things like that? Do you think we’re made of money? Do you think you deserve it?”

You could still feel the burn of embarrassment you’d felt as a child, standing in stores like this, admiring something small and simple, only to be scolded for it. Even when you’d had money of your own—birthday gifts, babysitting money—it had felt impossible to spend. Every purchase had come with scrutiny, criticism, or worse, guilt.

“You’re being selfish,” your father had once said when you’d asked for a new pair of sneakers, your old ones too worn to wear without socks showing through. “You already have shoes. Why are you wasting money on another pair?”

Aaron’s voice broke through the storm of memories, his presence grounding you. “Do you like it?” he asked, his tone gentle and encouraging.

You blinked, realizing your hand was still frozen in mid-air. “Oh, um… it’s nice,” you murmured, but the conflict inside you was already bubbling over.

He stepped closer, his steady warmth chasing the cold from your chest. “If you like it, let’s get it,” he said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Aaron frowned, his gaze softening as he studied you. “It’s not too much,” he said firmly. “Y/N, you don’t have to convince yourself you don’t deserve nice things. You do.”

The tears surprised you, stinging your eyes before you could stop them. “It’s just… it’s hard,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to—well, I wasn’t allowed to buy anything unless it was ‘necessary.’ Even then, it was like I had to justify everything. I’d saved money for years, but it didn’t matter. It was never really mine.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened, his protective instinct kicking in as he reached for your hand. “I hate that you went through that,” he said softly. “It wasn’t fair. You were a kid—you should’ve been able to enjoy things without feeling guilty or controlled.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the ache of memories long buried but never forgotten.

“When I was younger,” you continued, your voice quieter now, “I remember seeing a bracelet I loved at a little shop in town. I’d saved up enough from babysitting to buy it, but my mom…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the memory surfaced. “She told me I was wasting my money. That it was stupid to spend money on something so ‘useless.’ I ended up putting it back.”

Aaron’s hand tightened around yours. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “No one should have taken that from you.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to push back the tears. “It’s just a necklace,” you said, almost to yourself, as if you were trying to convince the little girl inside you.

Aaron turned you gently to face him, his eyes meeting yours. “It’s not just a necklace,” he said. “It’s a step. It’s a way of saying, ‘I can have nice things because I want them, and I deserve them.’ And I’ll be right here, helping you take those steps, no matter how long it takes.”

With his encouragement, you finally let yourself pick up the necklace. It felt weightless in your hands, yet the act of holding it carried so much significance. When Aaron handed it to the cashier, you didn’t protest. And when he fastened it around your neck in the car, his fingers brushing your skin, you felt something shift inside you—a small crack in the wall of guilt and control that had defined so much of your life.

As the two of you drove home, your fingers absentmindedly played with the pendant, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Aaron glanced over at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated before answering, your voice quiet but steady. “I was just thinking… that little girl I used to be? I think she’d be happy. She’d see this and know it’s possible to feel free someday.”

Aaron reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “She’d be proud of you,” he said. “And I am too.”

For the first time in years, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you were finally stepping into a life that was truly yours.

[quarterlifekitty]

Something Lacking

Note: uhhh this is just something for the Haunting Ground!AU where you take the role of Fiona and Simon is taking the role of Daniela. I just love comparing Simon and Daniela. If this seems like it’s kind in the middle of a narrative— it is, but I wanted to share!

For slight context: in this, Ghost is a homunculus who does not have the essence of life. As a descendent of alchemists, you have a lot of it!

cw: very slight unsanitary, non-consensual touching, slut shaming

“Captain said he made me the perfect man… But I can’t taste. Can’t feel any pleasure. Can’t even feel any pain…” his dark eyes idly pass over his hands, scarred and callous— his fingertips bloody. Without pain he cannot tell when the heat has reached the handle, when the knife has gone too far past the carrot.

“I ain’t complete.” He speaks in a cool, even tone. A suffocating silence settles over the room.

“I… Please excuse me,” you say as politely as you can manage with your quivering, opening the door at your back so you can watch him as you slip through it. He seems less than a degree from giving chase. You have enough of that to deal with.

You once saw Ghost through a keyhole. That man, Graves, slapping him across the face. Blood snearing from the corner of his mouth, but he made no move to retaliate.

“You gonna tell me where your fuckin’ Captain is, Ghost? We can keep at this all day, y’know. Better yet… tell me where she is.” Simon just stared ahead, ambivalent. He turned towards the door slowly.

Towards you. But how could he have known?

He smiles. It was a smile that betrayed no joy whatsoever. There was nothing behind the eyes but…

Well, it’s the closest thing Ghost has to joy. To pleasure.

Anticipation.

You laid down in bed— feeling sick to your stomach. Soap went off, looking for medicine. A castle full of alchemical equipment should have some, shouldn’t it? Besides— more lavender would do that racing heart of yours some good, too.

You’re completely unconscious when Ghost enters the room, silent as his namesake. His scarred fingertips run across your cheeks. There’s a brightness to your skin that he’s never seen— you’re a creature that’s known the sun well. He travels down, dry blood flaking from his skin as his hand as it smooths over the fabric of your blouse.

You’re the first real woman he’s seen. And from what Price has to say— you’re regarded as an exemplary specimen. He can see why.

His hand pauses at your abdomen. He can smell it. Any creature that lacks it can. Your azoth. The essence of your life. What makes you so… vivacious. Soap has a very trace amount, being a natural born creature of the earth like you, but what’s in you is like a font. An overflowing well, cultivated over generations of alchemical discoveries.

It fills Simon with something unknown to him. To see you in restful sleep. So soft, so whole, able to dream. The roiling in his gut must be hatred.

Your beauty. The curves of your form. He would bet you’d had plenty of pleasure in your life. Frolicking in the world outside… in the sun. The smile that graced your face when you were with that dog of a man that followed you at the heel. You must have welcomed— lured him into this filthy body.

And yet the captain wanted you. Graves wanted you too. Even König, in his own deluded way. It burned him inside, the deep black pit beneath his lungs being overtaken and licked with climbing flames. What a precious little princess you were. Desired, pleasured, joyful. Even your tears, your cries of fear… It all amounted to an infuriating humanity. To know even a fraction of those sensations… had you any idea what lengths to which he would go?

Of course not. A princess doesn’t concern herself with such things.

You awake to the feel of his fingers dug into the flesh of your abdomen, as if he could rip the azoth out from you through there. You gasp, rolling over until your back is against the wall. That smile once again plays on his face as he allows you to retreat. He grips you chin with a viper’s strike, forcing you to look at him.

“You can tell, can’t you, darlin’? I’m not complete. ‘S somethin’ you have that I don’t…”

“I d-don’t… I don’t understand— y-you seem…” your eyes flick over him. He’s scarred to hell, but by no means maimed. “…fine.”

Ghost’s eyes search yours. For what, he doesn’t know.

The opposite of love is not hate. It’s apathy. And the apathy he’s felt for his entire life is draining from him the more he observes you. His hand shakes as the deep, dark pit inside of him grows wider.

[ayilings]

i was innocent when you said i was evil

[palajae]

my name. | nishimura riki

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki! x reader

GENRE ▸ detective! au, fantasy! au, high school! au, s2ls, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WC ▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ you supposedly get transported to a different world, where you encounter niki. apparently, you already existed here. note: past tense. so now you’re stuck in an alternate universe and technically, you’re supposed to be dead. 

AKA after facing the truth, you come to the realization that someone was definitely trying to kill you.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of death!!!, a murder mystery/whodunit, profanity, mentions of suicide, depictions of murder, a few curse words, violence, blood, dead bodies, some gorey stuff, kissing, nothing too harsh, excuse any typos/misspellings...

wow... i can't believe it but it is finally out... it's been a long time coming lol. with losing several family members and hospital visits over the past year, i wasn't sure if this was ever going to get released. thank you all for your endless (fr) patience and support. happy reading ❤️

a faceless figure stretches out a hand towards you.

you squint but for some reason, you still can’t make them out. the longer you stare, the more you realize it was a person—a blurry vision of a faceless boy. considering the matching uniform to yours, he must’ve gone to your school …was he your classmate? 

you frown. you’ve never seen anyone like him in class before. you stretch out your arm, fingertips barely grazing his- 

the sound of the school bell ringing causes your eyelids to fly open.  you groan, yawning and getting up from your seat by the window by default. 

it wasn’t a nice nap—just one that left you feeling groggy, unsettled, and strangely incomplete. 

you pack up your stuff quietly and leave the classroom alone, not bothering to look for your friends. as you walk down the stairs, you hear your classmates chattering about the weather.you glance outside. 

it was a dreary, unwelcoming kind of rain—part of the reason why you fell asleep earlier in class—and you suddenly feel the urge to get home. as soon as possible. 

you weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t just raining. it started to pour, especially hard, on this spring day. you want to think that was what made your mood all miserable and forlorn. 

not to forget the fact that you didn’t have an umbrella, leaving you no other choice but to throw your hood on and tighten the strings of your hoodie over your school uniform. not exactly the most stylish look, yet it was comfortable enough for you. 

you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion, but you felt out of place, like for some weird reason… you didn’t belong here. like you belonged out of this circle, away from this life and world. 

that feeling always came up when it started to rain, and you always tried your best to suppress it. but it was particularly strong today. 

you shrugged it off though. those “phases” weren’t uncommon, right? 

though you made it halfway out the school grounds by yourself, hyein and hanni catch up to you as you walk. you give them a half-hearted smile, “hey.”

it doesn’t take much for them to notice your off behavior. hyein eyes you. 

“you okay, y/n?” 

you debate internally, reminding yourself that they’re your friends. you can trust them, rely on them. you’re allowed to do that. even more so, aren’t you supposed to do that? 

but the words that come out of your mouth suggest otherwise. you shrug, “it’s nothing. it’s just been a weird day, you know?”

they share a glance before turning back to you, sympathetic smiles on their faces. hanni pats you on the shoulder, “yeah, we get it. you should get some rest at home, y/n. we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“be careful on the way back! the rain doesn’t look like it’s stopping soon.” she calls out before they continue, leaving you behind—still as soaked as ever. 

you wave before sighing, gripping the straps of your backpack tighter and making your way towards the train station. the sound of the rain almost makes you fall into a daze as you go about your way. all your school stuff and clothes were definitely getting soaked, which probably meant an oncoming cold, but you could’ve cared less. 

the only thing that mattered was going home and sleeping off this weird feeling, so it could become tomorrow and you didn’t have to be in this situation anymore. 

the train station is strangely busy, you figure the downpour was making everyone go home sooner. you bypass several people, almost getting your soaked and stained shoes stepped on several times. all while muttering quiet “excuse me’s” to practically everyone and anyone who cared to listen. 

after what seemed like ages, you manage to make it to your train.  although, the large crowd surrounding the entrance effectively prevents you from getting anywhere. 

you mutter a curse, trying to navigate through the waves of people. you just barely get on before the doors begin closing. letting out a huff in relief, you lean back against the door and slowing yourself a moment to close your eyes in peace. all the seats were obviously taken at that point, so you had no choice but to stand. that’s fine—you end up drifting off anyway. 

you don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep. or why you feel even more exhausted when you wake up. but the robotic voice announcing your arrival makes your eyes automatically flutter open. you feel your body getting pushed and shoved around as everyone tries to get out all at once. 

so you grit your teeth and tug down your hood further until you can finally get out. you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings, too focused on not getting knocked to the ground. when you finally stumble out of the crowd onto the station platform, you try to collect yourself while shaking your head. then you frown, 

wait a second-

something solid knocks into you from the side, a rough oof! escaping out of their--mouth?

you’re knocked onto the ground, bottom first. pain shoots into your palms that tried (and failed) to catch your fall—and obviously, your butt as well. 

you groan, eyes flashing in annoyance at your unknown assailant. looking up, you stop at the sight of the… boy in front of you. 

you really have no idea why, but a question immediately pops into your head—

have you met before?

you don’t voice it, but it lingers in the back of your mind. the boy—as far as you can tell, he looks around your age— simply stares at you. he’s in a strikingly similar uniform. 

a flicker of recognition passes in his eyes before you watch his expression grow flabbergasted. he continues to stare at you for a solid minute, while you only stare back in confusion, still on the floor.

“it’s rude to stare, you know.” you finally state with a furrowed brow as you quickly gathering your bearings. 

his only response is a blink.  

it's like the two of you are frozen in time, everyone else getting drowned out in the moment. 

you frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “hello? did you hear me?” you repeat yourself and this time he snaps out of it. 

“y-you’re not supposed to be here.” he gets out shakily, looking around while his hand runs through his dark locks in distress. you cross your arms, “what do you mean? this is my stop…” 

you falter when you remember what you saw earlier. when you got off the train, you took a quick glance at the signs and posts. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your stop. 

that wouldn’t have been a huge issue- if it wasn’t for the fact that you never missed your station, no matter the circumstances.  

“no!” he exclaims and you flinch at the outburst. the boy glances at you again, and this time you involuntarily shiver at the unreadable look in his eyes. 

“you’re…. you’re supposed to be dead.”

your mouth drops open. 

“what a great first thing to say to someone you just bowled over. not even a sorry..” you mutter off, suddenly finding the strength to get up and wipe your hands. 

the boy takes a step back away from you. curiously, you take one forward, towards him. he gestures a hand at you almost aggressively. 

“you’re dead. you died. i swear-“

you hold out your hands in half desperation and half exasperation, “i dunno if this is some dumb prank or something i missed, but i hate to break it to you. i’m not dead. i’m literally right here in front of you. i think i would know if i died or not. i’m-” 

again, that feeling of being out of place washes over you. this time it steals your breath away. 

the strange boy shakes his head. “there’s no way. i know exactly who you look like.”

his next words make your blood run cold. 

“you’re exactly like y/n y/l/n—who died a week ago.” he looks you up and down again, hands curling into fists. 

“who are you? and why do you look just-?”

“because that’s who i am? my name is y/n! now, if you would excuse me.”  

you hold up a hand, you didn’t have the time or patience to deal with weirdos on the street. it did struck a little odd that he knew your name, but then again he must’ve gone to your school and heard of you somewhere. the only thing that unsettled you was his reaction. 

it just seemed too real, like he couldn’t have been that good at acting. 

he grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving. all he does is shake his head again like he’s just trying to reassure himself. you’re about to protest, so utterly confused at what’s happening-how you missed your stop and why this strange boy is saying that you’re dead. none of it makes sense. 

his face looks pale and grim, and you’re sure yours look exactly the same. “you can’t be y/n. and yet, here you are right in front of me.” 

“i will scream like a little girl for help if you don’t let me go at this-“

“p-please. this isn’t a joke. you can’t be here. we need to get out of here—where everyone can’t see you.” 

before you can even splutter a response, he drags you off. 

you can call me niki, his words echo in your head. 

his name rolls off your tongue unfamiliarly. in his states of panic—to which niki kept slapping himself and you kept denying that you were a hallucination—

you ended up introducing yourselves and deciding to find a better place to discuss. more like, niki decided. you soon began to regret that decision. 

all you wanted to do was go home, but this persistent kid you’ve never seen before wouldn’t let you or your conscience go. maybe it was the weird feeling from earlier, but you have the urge to at least hear him out. but when you walked out of that train station behind him, everything was wrong. 

you don’t know how to describe it. it was right but… at the same time, it wasn’t. 

to begin with, you ended up at the wrong station but it led you to the right street to get home. the streets name were the same, but the stores weren’t. 

and the bus stop—the bus driver that had worked there for fifteen years, the one you had greeted for fifteen years, suddenly became an entirely different person. he never missed a day, no matter what occasion it was. 

things weren’t right and you had no idea what was going on. 

following niki, you get lost in your thoughts. you shake your head, clapping a hand over your forehead. maybe… you’re just in a weird dream. a really realistic one, because none of this made sense. it wasn’t raining anymore either, which would’ve been fine, excluding for one tiny detail: the streets were completely dry. judging by the strength of the rain earlier, it really shouldn’t—no, it couldn’t have dried up that fast. 

It wasn’t physically possible. 

you could easily navigate your way around this area because you lived here all your life. and yet, it felt like you didn’t live here. not when this random stranger (only on a first name basis) keeps insisting that you died. 

niki—or whoever—leads you to a very familiar library, the same one where you spent hours studying for your finals. you head in, feeling a bit better hearing the familiar entrance chime. you walk ahead of him to take your spot by the back corner. the fact that this place was essentially the same gave you some comfort.

niki seems surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, only taking the seat across from you. 

“okay.” you start, glancing at the boy with wary eyes. 

“if whatever bs you’re spewing is true, explain.”

he raises his eyebrows. 

“me? explain?” 

you nod and he scoffs, “i think you’re the one who should be explaining. after all, you’re the one that’s supposed to be dead-“

“i’m not dead.” you grit out, rolling your eyes. 

“okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender, “but you still need to talk.”

you sigh, rubbing your temples. 

“what do you want me to say? that i got soaked, took the train home, overslept, and then missed my stop? then, i bumped into a weird boy-”

he shoots you an offended look, which you ignore. 

“-who keeps telling me that i died. oh, and the more and more i stay here with you, the more wrong everything gets?” you barely get the last word out before niki leans in, eyes focused intently on you. 

the closer he gets, you more you begin to malfunction. you unconsciously hold your breath, alarm and confusion evident in your eyes. his hand reaches out, slowly, to your head. your body freezes.

his fingers catch a drop of water at the tip of your hair. “sorry. that was bothering me.” 

you exhale, glaring at him. “are you serious?”

“yeah. are you?” 

“no,” you deadpan, “i’m a ghost and i’m haunting you. of course i’m being serious!” 

he gives you an unconvinced look and you roll your eyes, “i’m y/n y/l/n. we live an hour away from the capital. my house is two blocks away in the neighborhood with the broken fountain, and right now we’re at the library that doesn’t open on thursdays.  

you harshly tug off your suddenly dry hoodie, displaying your school uniform. 

“and by the looks of it, we go to the same school.”

his eyes widen as he leans in closer to study your uniform. you shrug away, caught off guard. then you frown, “but i’ve never seen you before at school. how do i know that you’re not some imposter?  that you somehow stole a uniform to get something from me?”

he rolls his eyes while you gaze at him suspiciously.

“obviously not, because that’s dumb.” 

you scoff. 

“i live here. why would i go through all the trouble to steal a uniform to get something from you? besides, what would i need from some-“ 

he glances at you and you tense,  

“-kid like you? you’re the one who came out of the train looking so suspicious, it’s like you appeared out of nowhere,” he counters. 

you place your palms flat on the table, “okay, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anywhere. we both don’t have answers and we’re not even close to one. all i know is that i’m alive,” you shoot him another look, “and that i somehow ended up here. now, can i go?”

there’s a brief pause before niki speaks up, slowly. “i already told you, you can’t be seen. come with me. and keep the hood on.” 

you roll your eyes. who was he to boss you around? 

he grumbles something along the lines of- “don’t want to be seen walking around with a dead person.” 

the only reason you listened was partly due to fear that you would lose your way in this familiar, yet unfamiliar place.   except, you know exactly where he’s taking you. because it’s the same neighborhood you live in. 

“wait,” you call out, “this is where i live.” you point to your house, and niki grimaces. 

“i know. there were police here for days.” 

you stop, unsure of what to say or do. police? at your house? when? 

you stare at your supposed house, suddenly dark and empty. what in the world happened? 

“come on,” niki calls out and you move to catch up. you’re starting to think niki may be telling the truth. 

soon enough, you make it to an unfamiliar house about a street down from yours. as niki unlocks the door, you take the opportunity to study him, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen him before. but when he turns to you, you clear your throat and look away. 

“this is my house,” he tilts his head while opening the door. 

you like the fact that it’s messy. it felt much more homey because of that. it was also a lot bigger than yours, filled with fancy and intricate things. to which you assume this niki guy has more money than he has yet to admit. he tells you to wait in the living room, and he soon returns with a stack of books. 

you pause, “yearbooks?“

he nods, “yeah, our school’s.” 

strangely enough, most of the covers are different than yours at home. 

but everything else is the same, like the name and logo. he pulls out this year’s yearbook and flips through before stopping at a page. 

“that’s me,” he points to the picture of him and you tilt your head, frowning.

“huh. so we are in the same year. but i’ve never seen you in my yearbook—or at school before. i swear i would’ve seen you at least once before...” 

you rub your temples, this whole situation was making your head hurt. none of it made sense. you study his picture, why in the world did he actually look good in his yearbook photo? your eyes shift toward his name, 

nish—

he turns the page before you can finish reading, only to get distracted by seeing familiar classmates in your yearbook. niki stays silent as he flips through pages and you continue to point out your friends and classmates and stare in wonder at the unfamiliar ones- 

ones that you’ve never seen before in your life but somehow their faces are printed on the page, in the same grade and same school as you. 

just like niki. you were actually speechless. 

eventually, he stops flipping eventually and looks at you. you catch his eye and glance down at the page, immediately catching on. you breath hitches. 

“no way—” 

“—and there’s you.” 

it is you. you can confirm, it’s a photo of someone who looks exactly like you. but… it’s not you. 

almost everything is the same, your face and clothes. your hair was cut shorter, and your smile wider for the picture. you were even wearing makeup, for crying out loud. you can only stare at the photo. 

according to niki, this you is dead? 

you look up at him, stomach churning. what in the world was going on? 

the silence lasts until niki finally speaks up with a hesitant tone. “i might be tripping, but have you ever heard of… alternate realities?” 

you shake your head firmly, “don’t even get me started on that-“

he cuts you off, “i know, i know. but just hear me out.” 

you have no choice but to internally whisper a quiet plea of help. he scoots closer, 

“wouldn’t it make sense? there’s really no other explanation. maybe it’s because i watched that spider-man movie recently, but you being from another world would explain how you’re alive right now—when in this world, you’re dead. plus, all the similarities and differences that you mentioned can be chalked up to different timelines—the butterfly effect and stuff like that.”

you don’t know what to say. 

could it actually be?

what other explanation could there be? 

“please say something,” niki mumbles and you release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

“okay. okay. fine. say the whole multiverse crap is true. then how did i even get here? how did i—” 

you do air quotations, 

“—switch dimensions to another world?” 

niki shrugs, “no idea.”

he scratches his head, “it’s weird to think about but i mean, maybe there’s a reason why you came here.”

his voice suddenly gets lower and you shiver, “you know, the timing’s a bit weird that you showed up right after the other you passed away.”

you clear your throat, “let’s not think about that right now. we should probably focus on the whole me being dead thing, right?” 

“what?” 

you glance at him questioningly, “what?”

niki raises an eyebrow. “what’s there to focus on? you died.”

you don’t have to rub it in my face, you mumble under your breath. 

“shouldn’t we be focusing on how to get you back to your world?”

you roll your eyes, “sure, but still, i kinda want to know how i died? i think i deserve to, you know, so maybe i don’t make the same dumb mistake back home.” 

“-if you ever get home,” he corrects and you huff.

“whatever, just tell me. we don’t even know if your dumb alternate reality theory is right.” 

“okay,” niki rubs his hands nervously and you wait in anticipation. 

“well, it actually happened last thursday.”

you swallow. why was your heart rate picking up? 

“at school. on, uh, the rooftop. no one witnessed it, and the cctv was broken so we don’t have any exact answers. but from what I’ve heard,” he gives you a cautious glance, 

“the police are about ready to call it a suicide.” 

at first, you think you misheard him. but the hesitant gaze and pause proves you otherwise. 

at first it doesn’t hit you. but then suddenly you feel sick to your stomach. your hand grips the table for support as you try to take it all in. 

you? 

a suicide at school? 

what about your family, your friends-

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head.  “i… i would never-“

you slam your hands on the table, “i know myself. i would never do that.”

his face is grim and sympathetic, which you can feel the dislike churn in your stomach at that. “i’m really sorry… that’s the current situation. it kinda blew up at school, but everything’s still so recent that nothing is confirmed yet.“ 

unspoken words linger in the back of his head, that he questions if he should say it or not.  

that niki really didn’t know you that well, that you were just another classmate of his. one that he passed in the halls without a second glance back. that the you in his world-

was just a stranger to him. 

yet seeing you, desperate and alive, right in front of his eyes. he doesn’t know what to do or say. so niki watches you bury your head in your hands. and he waits. 

it’s only a couple of minutes later that you look up. his face morphs into one of surprise when he sees your determined expression. 

“niki,” you state carefully and he nods, waiting patiently.

“are you sure that i-i did it?”

you can’t bring yourself to say the word but niki gets it. he sighs, 

“no. no one’s sure. but from what i’ve heard, the police haven’t found any other motives so… a suicide seemed most likely.” the more and more niki talked, the more unsure he got. 

your face hardens. 

“so there’s no proof? the police aren’t doing their freaking job and investigating?” 

his eyes widen—surprised at your sudden outburst—and you sigh, voice falling to a whisper.

“did i really commit suicide? and why do i care so much?” 

something warm falls over your hand and you jump, glancing up.

even for only a split second, his hand covers yours in a sympathetic attempt, “i’m sorry y/n. i wish i had answers but i really don’t know…”

despite the awkward look on niki’s face and overall awkward situation, his words strangely comfort you. 

you bite your bottom lip. “i-i have to get to my house.”

he stiffens, “what?” 

you stare at him, eyes sharp, “if no one else is going to do something, i at least have to.” 

you need to. for yourself. 

niki scoots closer, “y/n, you can’t just-“

“i know. but i need to know. something just-ugh,” you rub your face in frustration, “something doesn’t add up. i have to check. it’s like i can feel it deep within me.”

he sits there wordlessly. when you don’t get a response, you stand up. niki splutters, “w-where are you going?”

you cross your arms, “without or without you, i’m going to my house.” 

he slaps a hand to his face in frustration. “just how stubborn are you?” he mumbles. you hear it and yet you decide to ignore him. 

“thanks for the help i guess,” you give him a (weak) half-smile before turning towards the door 

“wait! you’re being serious?!” 

his desperate voice calls out and you internally debate if you should listen to him or not. slowly, you turn back around, “yeah. do you need something?”

“no, but you do— a plan. especially since the police closed off your house for investigation. plus, most of the evidence would have been taken already.” he clasps his hands together behind his back.

you shrug. “okay, and? i’ll still find a way. i have nothing to lose. i’m not even supposed to be alive.”

he groans loudly and you raise an eyebrow.

“idiot. i’m trying to say that i’ll help you. i-i want to help you.”

“i didn’t ask,” you raise your hands in mock surrender.  annoyed, niki puts his hands on his hips.

“sure, but i know plenty of things you don’t. this is my world. so, are you gonna accept or not?”

“you wish you did,” you retort, yet you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face, “but… i would appreciate it. just be grateful that i’m accepting your dumb theory from a spider-man movie as of right now.” 

niki gulps at the sight. it was the first time he saw you smile since you met. at least, the first smile he saw from the you of an alternate universe. 

“whatever you say,” he holds out a hand, 

“miss imposter.”��

you take it gladly, harshly.  “don’t call me that-“

“my name is y/n y/l/n.” 

you spin around in niki’s chair, having went up to his room to figure out your so called master plan. niki (respectfully) offered to let you stay in his room for the length of your “visit.” 

to which you almost punched him. 

but he explained that there were no extra guest rooms and you were still technically dead, so hiding in his room was the best bet as to not raise any questions. you could take the makeshift bed in the corner of his room as to not raise suspicion. you were surprised yet grateful. 

“i’ll grab extra blankets and pillows. and i’ll sneak you food and whatever you need.” 

“what about clothes and toiletries?”

he yawns, “easy. i’ll steal some from my sisters.” 

you feel bad, but you realize you have no other choice. you were literally stuck here. 

a part of you still wondered if this was a dream. a horrible one, at the least. but while you were stuck here, might as well make the best of it. niki graciously offered and you had no choice but to accept. you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“so basically, i’m like a secret pet you’re hiding from your parents?” 

“technically… yes,” niki rubs his hands together, and you can only watch the mischievous expression grow on his face.

“but i like to think that you’re like eleven. you’re different—you’re special, like her.”

you hold back a laugh at the words. 

clearing your throat, you try to play it off. “from stranger things? your world has that show too?” he lets out a scandalous gasp and this time you giggle. 

“of course, dude. what kind of world would i be living in if i didn’t have stranger things?” 

“apparently a horrible one,” you snort. 

after the whole living situation was sorted out, you returned to your investigation. 

“so you’re saying the police taped off my house for further examination?”

“uh, yeah? that’s how it works?” he raises a brow. 

you stuck your tongue out at him, “okay,  smartass. then how do we get in?” 

“clearly, there’s only one way: sneak in.” 

“i don’t think this is a good idea?” niki whisper shouts at you and you shush him. 

the sun was barely setting. if anyone knew you, they knew you really couldn’t be deemed as patient of any sort. 

niki watches you struggle up the tree in your backyard. 

obviously, going through the front door was a no go. luckily this house looked pretty much the same as your house, at least from the outside. you knew your parents weren’t home judging by the darkness.  you wondered if they were staying with other family. 

or were they at work? so soon after your death? 

you grimace, now was not the time to be getting in your feelings.

the best (only) option was jumping the backyard fence and going in through your bedroom window. leading to your predicament now.  

you exhale heavily when you find a place to rest, gripping the tree with all your might in hopes that you don’t fall 

you glance down at niki. 

“can you make it?”

he scoffs,  

“easy.” 

it was easy— easy for you to watch niki struggle to get up to your point. 

you were sort of scared the tree wasn’t going to support both your weights, at the way it was trembling slightly. niki makes it though, by the time the sun is well down. 

you can see him sweating heavily and your nose scrunches in amusement,“easy, huh?”

“yeah, for you just standing there and watching me. we don’t have all day, grandma.”

“don’t call me that,” you mutter while stretching out towards your window.

niki’s eyes widen. 

“be careful, y/n.” 

“i got it,” you stretch out a leg to the ledge and your sweaty hands begin to slide from the bark, most likely from exertion. 

without even thinking about it, niki places his hands around your waist to stabilize you. you don’t notice in your concentration to not fall to your death. you certainly didn’t want another dead you. 

your foot clicks the lock, and with a grunt you’re able to push the window open. 

“you got it?” 

“yeah,” you breathe out, clumsily making your way in. you reach out a hand for niki and he takes it, maneuvering his long body in through the small window. 

finally, you can breathe. 

it’s the first time you have the luxury to desperately wish that you were home right now. your real home. you certainly didn’t mean this home, the empty and cold looking one locked up for the police’s investigation. 

after catching your breath, you get up to examine your surroundings. you weren’t not sure what you were expecting. this was the other you’s room. 

all you can think is, at least this y/n was much cleaner than you. 

a part of you feels like you’re invading someone’s privacy. but then you realize that it’s literally your own privacy that you’re invading, with the addition of niki. you actually can’t believe the absurdity of the situation. 

at first glance the room looks pretty normal, an average teenagers room.  not what you expected for yourself, but there’s not much you can see. you turn to niki,

“there’s no shot we’ll get caught right?”

he gives you another sympathetic look, “we’ll keep a look out for the police, but i heard your parents were busy with your other family and funeral preparations, so it wouldn’t be them catching us.”

“oh.”

the air feels so glum, you clear your throat to move on. “guess we should look around?”

he nods and begins to snoop around.  

“wait,” you call out hesitantly. 

niki cocks his head and you cough awkwardly.

“it’s still my room, so like, be careful with what you look through.” 

he rolls his eyes. “yeah. i got it.” 

you gaze at the photos on your shelf, displaying your happy family and friends. it just made you acknowledge how precious they were. it made you miss your friends and family at home even more.  

you’re appalled at the books you read. you shake your head, seriously? you take out one of the books-

“ten days to love,” you voice aloud with disgust written across your face. 

you weren’t one to judge, but what kind of cheesy romance novels were you reading?  

niki opens your closet and you turn at the sound. your eyes widen- 

wait a second, 

your closet with clothes? possibly including…. more personal things? 

you dash over in desperation, praying that niki hasn’t already seen something that he shouldn’t. 

“don’t!” 

his wide eyes meet your panicked ones, shocked at the sudden change of events. he doesn’t move until you push past him, blocking the door from his view. 

“you didn’t see anything, right?” you stare at niki desperately and he furrows his eyebrows. 

“no? am i not supposed-“

“no reason. just being cautious. we can, uh, open it together.”

you carefully examine your belongings inside before deeming it safe for niki’s eyes. you let out a sigh of relief.

he gives you a weird look and you shoot him an exaggerated smile. 

“you can proceed!” 

he mutters something under his breath as you continue your search on the other side of the room. it didn’t seem like there was anything of importance on the shelves. but, after careful examination, you see a glimpse of something. pushing past some folders, your face morphs into a stunned one. 

you pull out… 

a pink teddy bear with hearts? why would this be in your room? 

and even more so, why was it hidden? 

niki calls out your name and you turn around. your mouth drops open. 

“a box of chocolates?“ 

he scoffs, “yeah. stuffed behind some clothes in your closet for some reason.”

“it’s not even the good brand,” you mutter. 

niki laughs, “maybe you had secret admirers from school?” suddenly, you give him a suspicious glance. 

“what makes you say that? you sure you weren’t one of them?” 

he side eyes you, “trust me, you wouldn’t catch me within five feet of you at school.”

you walk over to shove his arm and he only laughs harder. you huff, suppressing a smile on your face as you turn away. but you keep niki’s comment in the back of your mind. 

after a solid thirty minutes, you can feel your resolve waning. there was no sign indicating that you felt suicidal. at least, none that you found after the police probably scrounged through everything. some stuff was suspicious— 

like the teddy bear and chocolates. and some lavish perfume and makeup in the drawers. that just wasn’t your style. but you supposed this world’s you was just different. 

just because you weren’t particularly into those things didn’t mean another you couldn’t be. 

“did i have a diary? what about my phone?”

niki frowns, “the police would’ve taken it. it’s their evidence now.” 

you suddenly get an idea, and it’s probably wasn’t a good one. 

“hey, niki?” you call out. he hums in response.  

“what day and time is it, currently?” 

“uh…” he checks his watch, “sunday. 8pm. why?”

“when does the police station close?”

dummy, most people would say--why would the police station be closed?

luck seemed to be on your side, because you knew especially well from complaints by locals, that your local police station did actually have a curfew. and you could only hope it was the same here.  

niki scratches his head, “in ten minutes? why are-“

his mouth drops open, “no. no. no.” you shrug and he shakes his head adamantly, “y/n, there’s no way that we’re going to sneak in.”

you dust off your hands, “i’m all ears for any other ideas you have.”

you have him at that and he falls silent. after a couple moments, he speaks up albeit hesitantly. “well… i might have a way.“

you grin. “onwards, then.”

“wait, so how did you manage to get access again?”

he coughs, “my friend jungwon is the son of the police deputy chief… so i may have called in for a favor.”

“he managed to sneak in with his dad’s keys and get the files to my case?” you finish.

he nods. 

“illegally?”

he nods again.

you tap your chin, “would we get arrested if we got caught?” 

he shrugs, “probably.”

“good thing i’m not from this world.”

perhaps secretly hanging outside this jungwon’s house was not the best idea, either. he rolls his eyes before offering the file to you.

“do you want to open it?” to your surprise, his voice comes out quite comforting and soft. 

you gulp, “i guess i should.”

you feel sick for the second time that day. luckily, the photo didn’t show too much. not that it made it any better. it was still you, dead. 

you had to look at yourself and imagine yourself in that situation. you cover your mouth and niki immediately takes the file away from you. he watches worriedly as you shake your head.

“i’m fine. i-is there anything else your friend managed to get?”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” he doesn’t protest anymore at the tone of finality in your voice. 

niki pulls out a bag with your name on it. taking a deep breath in, you open it. you shuffle through some things hurriedly until niki speaks up.

“hold on a sec,” he softly places a hand on your arm to stop your actions.

“we should be careful. someone could notice that we tampered with the evidence so we need to be very careful when putting things back. plus, we have to give it back to him as soon as possible—we don’t want them noticing that your stuff is missing.”

you curse, “that’s right. we can’t risk taking anything.” 

“then what?” 

you pinch your nose bridge, “we snap pictures and hope it’s good enough. unless we want to take another field trip here.” 

you manage to snap a few pictures and go through a few things. you catch a glimpse of your diary and flip to the most recent page. it was about a week and a half ago, and-

it wasn’t finished. you skim through it, reading boring stuff about how your day was and how you met-

you squint.

the rest of the words were scratched out, harshly, with a black marker. seeing how it was getting late and dark, you can’t make out who’s name it was even with your phone flashlight. you wonder, could it be-

your thoughts are interrupted by niki. 

“y/n, i think we need to hurry and head home soon. the longer we stay out, the greater risk we’re at for getting caught. oh, and i found your phone.”

he holds it up and the extremely glittery case makes your eyes hurt. you eye it. heaving a deep breath, you prepare yourself to open your phone. 

but when you click the power button and nothing happens, you groan. you try again, and again, holding it down for seconds but the screen remains black.

“the phone’s dead.” you sigh again and niki bites his lip.

“maybe we should give up. we can ask jungwon another time,” he suggests

you nod wearily and he closes the box. as he gathers everything, opening his phone to text his friend to come back out, you glance at the time. it was quite late for a school day. 

“that’s right, you have school tomorrow?”

he groans, “yeah. i guess you’ll just have to stay home in my room. no one will go in while i’m at school, so you don’t have to worry.”

you nod, “okay.”

it felt weird knowing you were supposed to be at home, in bed and preparing to go to school yourself the next day. instead, you were stuck in another world—in a stranger’s room, forced to hide since you were supposed to be dead. 

were you considered missed at home? did anyone notice? call the cops? 

more like, if anyone cared? 

while you get ready for bed in niki’s bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror. 

yes, you affirm, you’re alive. 

you’re staring back at yourself, dressed in one of niki’s oversized shirts and basketball shorts. 

but the image of your dead face flashes in your mind and you immediately squeeze your eyes shut. you breathe heavily, hands planted on the sides of the sink. 

everything’s fine. you will get back home. things will figure themselves out. you’re okay. you’re breathing and-

a knock on the door makes you jump.

“y/n? everything okay?” niki’s voice sounds out hesitantly, “it seemed like you were taking a while so-“

the door swings open.

you stand there, face emotionless. he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you. niki tries to keep the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head, but it won’t seem to go away.

“goodnight, niki.” 

you slowly walk over to the temporary bed he’s set up on the floor for you. he blinks, 

“night, y/n.” 

it’s surprisingly comfortable, or maybe you’re just so exhausted you don’t seem to care or question anything anymore. 

you hear light footsteps padding to turn off the lights. 

in the darkness, your eyes close. but your mind is awake.

you know his is too, judging by the sounds of quite shuffling every couple minutes or so.

“niki?” you say quietly.

another shuffle. 

“yeah?”

“this may sound weird, but have you noticed anyone that looked particularly sad?”

there’s a pause. 

“about you?”

“yeah, but not like the typical sadness. like, anyone who seems to have changed drastically after hearing about me? let’s say,” you swallow, “any guys or friends of yours who seemed particularly upset or affected?”

niki rolls to the other side of his bed so that he faces you, but in the darkness he can only see the outline of your figure. “y/n, what are you trying to say?”

you tug the covers over yourself a little tighter. 

“nevermind, niki. have a good day at school tomorrow, and don’t worry about waking me up. you won’t be able to.”

“wasn’t planning on it,” he snorts. 

you fall asleep with a faint smile still lingering on your face. 

the next day at school, niki struggles. he struggles when it’s supposed to be another normal day, and all he can think about is you. 

especially about what you said.

niki never paid much attention before to his surroundings, there was no reason to. but now he keeps an eye open.

he eyed anyone who passed by your locker, empty desk in class, anyone who mentioned your name. but the fact that you mentioned guys specifically, made him confused. 

why did it matter if a guy was upset? a lot of people were shocked and sad at the news. niki shook his head. he didn’t get it. 

meanwhile, you stayed at his home.

thinking. 

thinking about yesterday. somehow everything that happened was all just yesterday. you took the train and ended up here. then you found out you were apparently dead. 

you spent what felt like hours scrolling through the photos you took and waiting for niki to come home. all while eating snacks that niki left for you graciously. 

you don’t even know what time it is when you hear the door begin to open. you scramble to your feet before realizing that there was a chance it wasn’t niki. 

you go back to your hiding spot, shrinking underneath the covers. next thing you know, the bedroom door flings open. you tense.

however, a call of your name allows you to let out a sigh of relief. you hop up, “niki!”

he grins, looking rather cute in his ruffled school uniform, backpack slung off one shoulder. you stop yourself, horrified at your thought. at your face falling, he cocks his head. “what’s wrong?”

you laugh awkwardly, “nothing! nothing at all!” 

he gives you an unconvinced look but doesn’t press further. 

“you must’ve been bored without me.” 

that was the niki you’ve come to know (in the span of a day or so).  sarcasm drips from your lips as you laugh dryly, “sure.” 

but you knew he was right and he knew it too. 

“i spent the day looking through the pictures, but i couldn’t find much else,” you frown. 

“same here. today was pretty normal, no one seemed any different than usual…” 

“i mean, the mood has been somber ever since you,” he pauses, “left. but nothing out of the ordinary.” 

you seemingly deflate, but niki perks up. “i talked to jungwon and he said he’s going to try and get your phone next time. we can only hope that someone charges it or that we can charge it ourselves.” 

you nod, “that’s good.” 

“but, don’t you have work to do? what about your family?”

you realized you didn’t see or even hear of them yesterday. 

“oh, they usually stay late at the dance academy—me included. but my grades haven’t been good recently, so they’ve been forcing me to go to home and study…”

you tsk as niki gives you a sheepish look. 

“you know, while we’re waiting, i’m not too bad at studying myself. what do you need help with?” 

niki rolls his eyes, “thanks, but no thanks. i don’t need another person on my back about my grades.” 

instead, he falls back onto his bed with an oof. 

“don’t worry, i’ll manage. let’s just talk about our next step. 

“step? as in, my case?

“yeah,“ his eyes glint, “i have an idea.”

you were starting to believe he was getting more invested in this than you were. 

“okay—shoot.”

what was the worse thing he could suggest?

“we should sneak you into school-“

your eyes practically bulge as you gape at him. “excuse me? weren’t you the one saying i was going too far with sneaking into my own house and you want me to do what?” 

niki gets up, placing his arms on your shoulders to calm you. strangely enough, it did. 

“hear me out first—we sneak into school at night, bust open your locker, and see what you have. that’s better than waiting for jungwon.”

“don’t you think the police would have already looked through my locker? 

“well, he looks around nervously, “as far as i’ve heard, the police were already mostly convinced the case was closed and didn’t care to check. but, what can i say? rumors are just rumors.” 

you purse your lips. what did you have to lose? being in a different world made you much more reckless than you would have ever thought. but that didn’t mean you were going to be stupid about it.

“fine.” 

niki winces at your tone, but you speak up,

“how in this stupid multiverse crap am i going to break into my own locker? and with cameras all around school?

he smirks and you raise an eyebrow.

“i didn’t miss a whole chem lecture for nothing—“ 

confused, you give him a look as if to say, what in the world are you talking about? 

“who said we had to know the combination?” he takes out a pair of keys form his pocket. 

you gasp in awe, clasping a hand over your mouth.

you gaze at him with wide eyes for a second, causing him to look at you questioningly. 

“you’re actually being smart...” 

his confused expression immediately changes to one of irritation. 

you stand up straight again, “how did you even get those keys? and what about the cameras?” 

he winks and you glance at him, trying to remain expressionless. if there was anything you noticed, it was that niki was actually quite attractive. it made you wonder if he was popular at school…

“it’s a secret. don’t worry about it.” 

“you sure have a lot of secrets, niki. like, is niki even your real name?” you squint accusingly. 

niki chokes on his spit, “how in the world did you know?” 

you falter. “huh? it isn’t?” 

he clears his throat, “anyway, i have to get up early for school tomorrow.” 

you eye him but decide to let it go. niki shrugs, “usually i’m up playing games, but you look like you need the sleep with those eye bags. you aren’t surprised.

“tomorrow night,” he says shortly after. “i’ve got a plan—you just have to trust me.”

turns out said plan was dumb, but you really had no other choice. 

niki made some lame excuse to his teachers about staying late to study- and his teachers, being utterly shocked that he offered to study, immediately agreed to let him linger. 

meanwhile, niki would sneak you in, wearing one of his old uniforms that was too small for him so that just in case, no one would question anything. along with one of his totally inconspicuous baseball caps to hide your face and hair. 

you sigh, you couldn't believe you were sneaking into school through the boys bathroom. you groan while maneuvering through the window. niki shushes you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him. he raises his hands playfully and you resist the urge to smack him. 

on your way to jump down from the window, your left foot gets caught on the ledge. you stumble forward, expecting to be met with the revolting bathroom floor face first. instead, perhaps now was the time to thank the universe (in this case, his universe?) for niki’s quick reflexes.

he inhales, catching you by catching and pulling you towards him instead of the ground, essentially into his arms. 

instead of faceplanting into the ground rather foolishly, you fall into his strangely soft and warm chest. you let out a barely discernible squeak, unable to respond due to the pounding of your heart. 

after a couple of seconds—that felt like forever— niki lets you go with a shake of his head. 

“my god y/n, i had no clue you were this clumsy. please don’t ever do that again.” 

please don’t ever make me sneak into a nasty teenage bathroom again, you wish you could retort. 

you shake your head quickly, lips pressed thinly together. don’t get distracted, you remind yourself.  “yeah-thanks. let’s uh, just hurry.“

you don’t have time to wonder what would the consequences be if you got caught by cameras or anyone else while niki leads you down the familiar hallways. 

“how do you know which one’s my locker? i thought you said we didn’t really know each other?“ you eye him suspiciously.

he scoffs, “don’t get too excited. mine’s just a couple lockers down so i was bound to see you at your locker by some point.” 

he hands you the keys and you gratefully accept—your hands slightly trembling. you didn’t know what to expect. 

niki watches from behind, and you can feel his warm breath on you occasionally, causing you to shiver.

with a slight click and creak of the rusty locker door, the locker opens. you hold your breath at first glance. it’s…. normal? 

normal as in any average high schoolers locker one would expect. what catches your eye first are a couple of photos of you and your friends. 

on deeper inspection of yourself (it was still weird to imagine and even weirder to see) you see a twinkling, intricate chain around your neck. maybe you were tripping (again, but mentally this time) or that necklace you had on seems really expensive? 

“there’s no way,” you suddenly gasp and turn to niki with wide eyes. 

“what?” niki starts to panic, “what is it?” 

“am i actually loaded in this world?” 

niki pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “jesus, you scared me. i mean, you didn’t seem like it.. who knows where you got that super expensive, luxury brand necklace? it looks familiar…“ 

you try your hardest not to roll your eyes. of course, niki would know. 

“how much are you talking?” 

he taps his foot on the floor, “well, my mom and sister likes that brand. that specific necklace is specially made since it’s a seasonal limited edition, so it’s somewhere in the thousands-“

you truly forgot how rich niki’s family was, you think with a half joking tch and a shake of your head. niki glances at you, impressed. 

“-whoever gave that to you must’ve really cared.” 

you frown, “sure… or maybe i just really worked hard to get it for myself?” 

he’s shoots you an amused look, “you wanted to get yourself the valentine day’s collection necklace? 

“what?” 

you feel your heart rate begin to pick up, “are you implying what i think you are? 

“yes?” he responds with a raised eyebrow, “someone must’ve been really in love with you to gift you that. maybe your parents or friends?” 

then niki pokes your side playfully, “-or a secret admirer?” 

you don’t answer his question, regardless of if he was being serious or not. you peer into the locker again, “but where is it? it’s so valuable i’m certain we would’ve seen it in the police’s evidence…” 

suddenly, niki grabs your wrist. that’s when you hear the footsteps. you turn to him with wide eyes as he mouths for you to hide.  panicking, you look around in desperation before he pushes you—

straight into the locker. 

your own locker. 

you know you should be freaking out over getting caught, but you could only wonder—could this be considered a crime? 

in the dark, stuffy locker, you see a glimpse of niki’s silhouette run past through the tiny openings of the door. just barely a second later, you hear more footsteps. squinting, you able to discern a familiar, yet weirdly unfamiliar guy. your eyebrows raise. 

no way. park sunghoon was in this world too? 

you hold your breath when you hear him call out, “is someone there?” 

really, curse niki for shoving you in your own locker. yet it was also a smart move as no one could see into your locker, but you were able to see out. 

“sorry. that was me, pres.” 

it was niki’s voice. 

you can barely see his relaxed demeanor appearing to face sunghoon. 

“i was staying back to study and catch up on work—you know already,” he adds hastily. 

sunghoon nods coolly, “i was just checking. making sure everything’s good before leaving.” 

niki was a little too good at acting, you questioned how often he had done this to those around him. he fake salutes, “i promise to clean up after i’m done. no need to worry, class president.” 

“alright, see you later.” 

you have a sigh of relief as sunghoon turns to leave. 

but you swear, for a split second, his expression changes as his eyes fall on your locker. 

your heart rate picks up. did he notice you? 

however, sunghoon leaves without a second look back. 

you frown—what was that? 

after waiting a minute to be safe, niki quickly lets you out. only to be greeted by your displeased face and crossed arms. 

“that was the only thing i could think of in the moment!” he immediately defends himself. 

“seriously? i could’ve-like-“ you trail off and niki smirks.

“see? nothing bad would’ve happened.”

“doesn’t change the fact you stuffed me in my locker. it’s not even mine, for crying out loud.” 

“whatever. just be glad you didn’t get caught by park sunghoon, our school’s super rich, smart, and handsome-“

“i know him from my world. he’s irrelevant, let’s continue on.” you wave him off. 

you can’t help but compare him to niki. niki was way more genuine and… boyish in a way? he felt real. you preferred that. not to mention he had a much more tolerable presence, you supposed. 

everything else in the locker was useless. random crappy notes, perfumes and hand lotions, along with the pictures you already inspected were the only things that decorated your locker. no sign of that ridiculously expensive necklace. 

you rub a hand over your face in exasperation. “that’s it…”

one thought still lingered in the back of your mind. where was the necklace? 

“hey, y/n, i think we should get going soon. the lights are going to turn off soon-they’re automatic and we didn’t bring any flashlights.” 

you sigh. next time. 

it feels like you’ve hit a dead end. by the end of the week, niki has caught up on his studies. you were surprised to find that he was quite dedicated to school, even if it didn’t seem like it. 

the days that niki came home with a pile of schoolwork and other duties, you went out to think—with one of niki’s hoodies and a mask on. but the times you spent with niki since you couldn’t go out much, mainly at night, were nice. 

tutoring him at subjects he was struggling in, learning new dances together (and learning how talented he really was), simply being around him was enough to distract you from your impending crisis. 

niki always came to keep you company and bring you food. you really were his eleven. 

niki was gaming while you sat off to the side, watching him play. you admired his side profile, the shine from the bright computer screen enhancing his features, the furrow of his eyebrow as he focused. 

he yells as his character dies and you can’t hold back your laughter, “you kinda suck-“

all of a sudden, you hear a knock on the door. 

“bro, you good? i swear i heard another voice-“

the door handle begins to turn.

you and niki share a look of panic. 

your first instinct is to dive and roll, underneath niki’s bed. you ignore the fact that it’s as dusty as you’d expect for a teenage boy’s room and hold your breath. 

“mom said dinner is ready. also, what’s with all the noise? it sounded like someone else was in the room with you.” a girls voice—niki’s older sister, you presume. 

“nope. just me.” 

you cringe at the fact that niki’s voice is octaves higher. it wouldn’t be that much of a problem if his voice wasn’t as deep as it normally was. 

“it was just probably the video i was playing.” 

“…sure,” you hear his sister’s footsteps as she leaves and shuts the door behind her. 

you let out an exhale of relief. 

“y/n?” you hear soon after. 

“under here.” 

you turn to see niki’s head peeking down underneath the bed. 

you meet his curious eyes. cute. 

“jeez.” he holds a hand out and you gladly accept it, letting him pull you up with ease. huffing, you dust yourself off. 

“jeez, indeed. who knows what horrors you’ve been hiding under there.”

“hey,” niki defends himself, “i’ll have you know i am a very clean person and don’t-“

“oh really? then what’s this?” you hold up the sacred item, jerking your hand back as he reaches out to snatch it. 

“hey! haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” 

he lunges again as you laugh, just keeping it out of his grasp. however, you feel the bed frame hit your legs, and you gasp. 

you fall back, niki over you on his bed. he must’ve underestimated his arm-span and overestimated yours. 

niki lands over you with a soft grunt, eyes wide. you peer up at him wordlessly. his arms catch him, but it’s still so close you can feel his hair tickle your forehead. 

is this what the movies mean when your heart… skips a beat? 

niki snaps out of his trance, “s-sorry,” he hastily gets up. you cough, trying to dispel the stuffy atmosphere. 

“so, uh, i had an idea.”

“yeah? what’s up?”

“i was thinking we look at the evidence again. i just want to double check something.”

“come on,” you take niki’s hand. it was habitual by this point. 

“you got the charger, right?”

niki nods, taking it out of his pocket. 

it was risky asking niki’s friend to retrieve the evidence for you again, but you needed to confirm your suspicions. or, hit a dead end. 

when niki returns, carefully holding a plastic bag (and dinner, your grumbling stomach reminds you), your eyes zero in on one thing. 

“thanks. i know it must be hard for your friend to sneak behind his dad’s back like that.” 

“it’s fine,” niki shrugs, “i promised to buy him lunch for the next week.” 

you snort as you take out “your” phone and plug it into the charger. 

“okay. now we wait.” 

niki looks at you expectantly, and you only stare at him back. subconsciously, a hand raises to your face. “is there something wrong?”

he shakes his head while looking away sheepishly, “nothing, nothing.”

you open your mouth to question him further, but the phone screen flashes. you scramble to open it. thankfully you were able to use your own face id. 

as soon as you scroll through your messages, your stomach sinks. you raise a hand to cover your mouth. 

“what?” niki jumps up, “what did you find?”

you open the photos app, which only confirms everything. you drop the phone, and that’s when niki sees it. 

“oh my god.” 

“don’t even-“

“i was secretly dating park sunghoon?!”

you cup a hand over your mouth. “i think i’m gonna be sick.” 

niki scoffs, taken aback. “b-but how? you- and him-?”

you rub a hand over your face. “don’t ask me. but the valentines gifts and necklace were so suspicious, i started wondering… i just didn’t expect it to be him.” 

niki notices the sour expression on your face. 

“oh. you don’t like him?”

you shake your head vehemently, “bro, not even if he and i were the last two people on earth.”

you think about your world’s sunghoon and almost shudder. he was selfish, arrogant, could but would never keep a girl for more than two weeks. yet the whole class still loved him and you never understood it, never understood the appeal of him. 

besides getting bro-zoned, niki relished your words. 

“good to know.” 

“i wish i didn’t,” you sigh.

but that was besides the point. you still didn’t know how it all added up. did sunghoon—unfortunately, your boyfriend in this world—have anything to do with your death? did he really get you that expensive necklace? 

and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t rule it out. thinking as rationally and fairly as possible, suicide was likely-as much as you didn’t believe it. you couldn’t rule it out simply based on a feeling. plus, his expression when he passed by your locker lingered in your mind. 

“so, now what?” niki watches you carefully. 

“you’ve heard of the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

“yeah,” he cocks an eyebrow, “why?”

“well, i’ve got a task for you.” 

niki has never spoken a word to your friend group in his entire life. the most he’s ever done was send a cold look their way and pretend not to know them out in public. 

he had nothing against them—nothing against your choice of friends—but he preferred not to associate with your group. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just didn’t vibe with them. 

and yet here he was, talking to your “friends” because you asked him to. he sighed, the things he did for you. 

danielle looks him up and down with her arms crossed. “why are you asking about y/n? since when did you care about them?”

“please,” he sighs in exasperation, “i just need to know if anyone disliked y/n or was acting suspicious around them.”

haerin steps up, an annoyed frown on her face. “there’s no one. can’t you tell this is a touchy subject for us? now, leave us alone.” 

she grabs danielle and walks off, angrily whispering into a distressed looking danielle’s ears. 

niki wants to punch someone. besides the fact that surrounding people were catching onto his conversation and whispering about the interaction, he essentially got nothing out of it. 

you were also at a dead end. after scrolling through hundreds of disgusting texts and photos of you and sunghoon, there was nothing remotely suspicious. plus, you had to give your phone back to jungwon soon before anyone noticed it was missing. 

everything seemed normal. everything was normal. normal until this world’s you suddenly died. 

the only lead you had was the missing necklace. and yet where were you supposed to find it? it could be anywhere—in the police’s hands, with sunghoon, most likely gone. 

you couldn’t even go out on your own, you felt like a hopeless rapunzel trapped in her tower, desperately wishing for answers and freedom. it was starting to get to you. the stress, homesickness, and most of all, loneliness. 

you throw your phone to the side and bury your face in your hands, trying your best to focus on your breathing. you almost don’t realize how long it’s been until you hear a faint call of your name. 

“y/n? y/n, what’s wrong?” niki drops his backpack and rushes to your side. 

his eyes carefully examine your body, checking for who knows what. you slowly lower your hands, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. 

what scared niki the most was the lost look in your eyes, a deep and dark pool void of any emotion. 

“niki… i don’t think i can do this anymore,” your words float out carefully, like a whisper of the wind. 

“i’m trying my hardest, but it’s so frustrating. i miss my home, i miss my life. i miss myself.” as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel yourself break down. and right as you do so, niki reaches forward to wrap you in an embrace. 

“i want to go home,” you whisper in an small voice. 

his heart almost breaks at the sight. you sounded like a little kid—you looked like you were a little kid again, as small and curled up you were when he found you. in his eyes, he saw a lost child looking for their parents, their guidance and their own light in the world. 

he resolves to never be the cause of your pain again. 

niki holds you for the entire night as you cry and drift off to sleep. 

you wake up with a headache and a dry throat. you feel hungover, although you’ve basically never drank alcohol before. 

somehow, you’re not sure exactly when, you ended up in niki’s bed. as soon as you’re able to sit up, your eyes fall on the clock on the bedside table. 

11 am. niki must be at school still, you note. 

you wonder what he’s up to, if he was being a good student while you were stuck all alone at his home, skipping your own school. you wonder what life is like back at home. did time even pass? 

niki heads home as soon as the bell rings. he wanted to see you, to comfort you and reassure you. he wanted you to be okay. 

when he knocks on his own bedroom door and there’s no response, he frowns. all there’s left is a pink sticky note on his desk. 

went out for fresh air. don’t worry and don’t look for me. 

niki immediately drops his stuff and runs out. he goes to the train station, the bookstore. he even goes back to school, for crying out loud. 

he’s breathless and exhausted by the time he’s arrived back home. niki knows his family won’t be back. it was competition season, which meant the busiest time of the year for the other dancers. you were the sole reason he attended school at this time of the year, studying hard instead of skipping and dancing 18 hours each day. 

he’s scared. 

niki hasn’t felt this feeling in a long time—he can only recall the time where he was six and went to disney world. his older sister was pressuring him into riding one of the larger roller coasters, and he felt that sickening nausea fill him as he looked up at the towering structure. 

he almost gives up. he basically has, until he notices something strange. his balcony door is unlocked, and he always kept it locked for safety purposes.

tense, niki reaches out and slowly turns the handle. what greets him is certainly not what he expected. 

you sit on the balcony railing, hanging over the edge quite precariously with your feet swinging. one slight mistake and you would fall. 

you stare down at the passing cars, cloudy and dreary skies showing you it was soon to rain.

niki stares at you, and you turn around at the sound of the door to stare back, not a single word exchanged. 

then you finally break the eye contact, glancing down at your stilled feet. “i wasn’t going to do it.” 

he silently moves closer, hopping next to you on the railing as well. “okay.” 

you don’t see the tender way his eyes travel over you. your voice is quiet as you speak up, “you don’t have to say anything.”

“okay,” niki repeats. 

it’s not said in a sarcastic way. it’s not sad, either. it’s just..... soft. soft and understanding enough to make a blanket of comfort fall around you, to make it known that niki’s presence is here by your side.

suddenly, the rains starts and niki asks if you want to go down. you slowly nod and he helps you safely off the railing before opening the door for you guys go out in the rain. 

the rain doesn’t stop. 

and niki doesn’t stop either. he grabs your hand, dragging you along with him haphazardly. 

“where are we going?” you ask breathlessly. 

“out. like most people our age. we’re still kids.” 

“wow, i had no idea,” you mutter sarcastically. 

he holds back a smile of relief. good to know you were still your usual self. 

“you need a break. you’ve been so caught up in this case, you need to rest.”

“but-“

“come on,” he leads you on, “relax. it’ll give you a clear mind, so we can come back with a fresh start.” 

you’re hesitant until he pulls up at an arcade. “what if someone sees me? what if they-“

niki places a finger over your lips, silencing you. “we’re here to have fun like everyone else and not give a crap about anything else. now, are you gonna play or are you gonna get your butt kicked by me?”

a challenge was a challenge. 

you laugh at niki’s rambunctious side, yelling as he tries to cheat during competitive games and fight over the better toy gun. 

“just so you know, i technically won.” 

you playfully shove him, “in your dreams. you’re just saying that because you don’t want to-“

you get cut off by the loudest (and most embarrassing) grumble of your stomach. you both look down at your stomach. you look back up, petrified. 

niki almost cackles, “i guess that’s a sign.”

“it’s not my fault i fell asleep before eating yesterday,” you pout. 

“what do you want to eat?”

“anything. i’m serious.” 

niki watches with a fond smile as you quite literally inhale your food. 

“eat any faster, and you’ll make a new record.”

you flip him off as he laughs, putting more food onto your plate from his. you can only watch wordlessly, feeling your heart warm. after you finish eating, niki takes your hand again. you glance at him questioningly. 

“there’s one last thing i wanted to do,” he mumbles while avoiding your gaze. 

“how’s this one?”

you scrunch your nose in distaste at the sight, reaching to place red devil horns on niki’s head.

“i think this one fits you more.”

as he grumbles, you laugh. 

“fine, but i get to choose yours.” 

he ends up picking a frog headband for you—which you complain to no avail. his reasoning was, “you remind me of a frog. like the princess and the frog.”

you splutter, “but that means-“

“yes. i’m the princess.”

“obviously,” he adds. 

in the photo booth, you sit awkwardly. niki cocks an eyebrow. 

“i’ve never done this before, so…"

instead of teasing you like you originally assumed, niki only brings you closer. he wraps an arm around you while posing for the camera. you’re frozen, even as the countdown starts. you can barely manage a smile as the camera flashes. 

“what now?”

niki glances at the screen, “we still have three more pictures. what poses do you want to do?”

you’re at a loss for words. 

niki leans closer again. he makes a half heart with his hand as he looks at you expectantly. “how about a heart pose?”

“o-okay.”

you never felt so suffocated in that photo booth. and yet, you’ve never laughed harder. you’ve never been so happy in your life with someone else.  

“hey, this photo came out good!”

“but what happened to the first one?”

you both lean in to get a closer look at the photos that printed, and you end up feeling niki’s breath on your cheek. 

it was warm. it was nice to have someone so close to you and still feel comfortable. it was nice to know you were close enough to someone to feel that way. 

it was something you had never felt before. 

“..-y/n?”

“huh?” you snap out of your trance.

“i said, you can keep this copy.” 

you look at the pictures and then at niki. “what? no, it’s fine-“

“i said keep it,” he forcefully shoves the photo into your hand as he quickly heads over to the cashier to pay. 

you stand there for a minute, looking at the photos. you guys looked happy. you guys looked good…together. like you were a real couple, or something. you internally chide yourself while taking off your headband. what a silly thought, you brush off. 

on the walk back home, you feel utterly satisfied, humming as you match your pace with niki’s.

“when we arrive, i’ll let you in through the back, just to be safe.”

“whatever you say, mr. responsible.” 

he ruffles your hair and you swat his hand away in annoyance.

that night was the first night you’ve felt content. almost like you could stay here—like you belonged. you stare up at the dark ceiling, reflecting on the days events. 

“niki?”

you hear his bed shift. “yeah?”

“i just wanted to say thanks. for everything. you’ve been providing everything for me, all while helping me on my case. i’m grateful for everything. i don’t know how, but i promise to pay you back one day.”

“what’s with the sudden sappiness?” his tone is teasing, but light. he clears his throat to add, “but yeah, of course.”

“i dunno, i guess i’m just not used to this type of treatment back home.”

“what? what do you mean?” 

even in the dark, you can feel inquisitive stare on you. 

“i mean, i’m usually left on my own since my parents are working. and my friends, well, they’re nice and all…”

“but you don’t feel a true connection?” he finishes, and you roll over.

“yeah. i don’t really know what my friends are like in this world. who even are my friends? do i even have any?”

niki grimaces. 

“uh, yeah. i don’t know if they exist in your world, but have you heard of danielle? and haerin?”

“nope. what are they like?” 

he shifts again, and the bed creaks. “you see, i don’t really talk to your friend group. it’s nothing personal, i just don’t want to associate with them.”

“dang, maybe it really is just a me problem, in every life too.” 

you hadn’t thought about hanni and hyein since you got here. but danielle and haerin were two new leads. a new start, perhaps. 

now that you had more information from niki, you started your research again. specifically, insta-stalking. 

your specialty. 

niki hands you his phone with a suspicious look when you casually ask for it. you pray he doesn’t hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears or the pounding of your heart. 

as he goes to do his night time routine, you quickly tap on the instagram app and search up danielle’s name. it doesn’t take long for you to find her account since niki followed her. checking to make sure he didn’t come out of the bathroom, you scroll through her feed. 

and your heart stops when you see it. in the corner of a photo—a picture of her and haerin posing at school in front of their lockers. 

that’s your ridiculously expensive bracelet on danielle’s arm. you’re sure of it. 

you felt yourself grow nauseous as you quickly turn off niki’s phone as soon as you hear the door turn. 

“hey, are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost..”

you blink and smile, peeking at him innocently, although the dread grows in the pit of your stomach. “huh? no. what are you talking about?”

“what were you doing on my phone?”

you look away sheepishly, “trying to see if i could call my mom?” maybe niki’s acting skills were rubbing off on you. 

“oh, and?” 

you shake your head, a fake grim expression plastered on your face. 

that night, you lay awake staring into the darkness. when you hear niki’s soft snores, you sneak over to his bedside table to retrieve the key. you know you shouldn’t, but you felt this was something you needed to do alone. 

you feel like you’re on the edge of the cliff, about to jump into the water. the adrenaline filled you, you were right there-

it was so close.

the next day, you have to pretend everything is okay. you smile when niki greets you good morning, even peck him on the cheek when he tells you he has to stop by the dance studio for the night. 

he visibly blushes, stuttering on his words, “w-uh, w-what was that.. for..?”

you shrug, “i’m just proud of you for getting your grades up. it’s your first time back dancing in a while so have fun, okay?” 

he nods, beaming as he squeezes your hand goodbye. as he leaves, your smile fades. it felt too normal. it felt too right to imagine having a life with niki, like this everyday.

and knowing what you knew now, it was wrong. it was wrong from the start, and yet you couldn't help yourself fall even deeper. you had to get back into the right mental state. you couldn't keep deluding yourself.

it was time to confront the truth.

you can’t believe you’re sneaking into through the school boy’s bathroom again. the locker key safely stored in your pocket, you find danielle’s locker. the same one from the photo she posted. 

this had to be the one. you can only hold your breath and hope as you unlock it. 

you quickly scramble through all the stuff, looking for the shiny bracelet. you don’t find it, but when you go to close the locker door in defeat, a crumpled up piece of paper falls onto the floor. 

you huff, taking it and opening it up. it’s a picture of sunghoon, you, and danielle, all smiling as you three posed for the camera. but it wasn’t just an ordinary picture—there was a big, red “X” scribbled over your face, with the words “finally done” written next to it. 

and hearts next to sunghoon’s face. 

horrified, you clap a hand over your mouth. 

during a break at the dance studio, niki doesn’t expect to open his instagram app and see danielle’s instagram show up on his recently searched. frowning, he taps on the account. he never cared to pay attention to danielle, so why was her account the last thing searched up? 

just out of curiosity, he scrolls through her recent posts. 

and then he sees it. something that is so hard to miss. it’s so strikingly familiar. 

he rushes home. when niki bursts through the front door, he doesn’t expect to find you missing. and when niki notices his old school uniform and cap gone, his heart drops. 

you sit on the floor next to the lockers  with your head buried on top of your knees. you’re sure you could get caught, but you don’t care. 

the crumpled picture feels heavy in your pocket. 

you stay there, staring at the walls until you see the moon shining brightly outside one of the windows. you haven’t eaten or drank anything the whole day. you’re not sure how long it’s been. 

“y/n!” 

great, now you were hearing things as well? 

furious footsteps stomp towards you.

“why did you leave without telling me? you could’ve gotten caught-it could’ve been dangerous?!”

“n-niki?” your eyes widen. 

before saying anything else, he pulls you up to your feet. 

“why would you come to school without me?”

for some reason, his words sting. you cross your arms, “what? like i can’t take care of myself?” 

he groans, “that’s besides the point! if someone saw you—“

“i don’t care! so why do you care so—“

a sound from down the hall cuts you both off. you turn to niki in panic and he curses. “the custodian comes on weekends to clean.”

you hold back a yelp as niki grabs your wrist and pulls you along in the opposite direction. 

he pushes through a door and turns to the left. you don’t stop until you’re inside the.. natatorium? 

“why are we-“

“there are no cameras here, unlike in the school building. i thought you would’ve known that.”

after he speaks, there’s an awkward silence. 

niki sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “well, are you gonna tell me?”

you feel the frustration flow through your veins, “and what about you? you tell me why i have to let you know my every location? why i feel like i can’t take care of myself, l-like a sick, old dog who can’t go anywhere or do anything? i’m sick of it all!” 

“you don’t understand,” his voice raises,  and you interrupt him, getting closer and closer to him. 

“you’re right, i don’t. i don’t understand why you helped me in the first place. you say that you barely knew who i was, yet here you are acting like you care! like you cared about the dead me!”

at this point, his face is so close to yours, you can feel your breaths mix as neither of you back down. 

“i do care! of course i care! about you, standing right in front of me!” he clenches his fists. your eyes linger on a single vein on his neck that sticks out due to the intensity. the fire burning in his eyes, your trembling voices, it all makes you falter. 

you don’t know what you asked. you know the truth. niki always cared—more than cared. he always went out of his way to search for you, like the day on the balcony and today. he wanted to find you, he wanted to have you in his life, 

you realize it now. to put simply, he wanted you. 

and this was the first time you felt wanted. 

you don’t know what else to do, so you lean in and close the gap to kiss him. and if anything, niki immediately pulls you closer to him. 

when you break apart for air, his dark eyes still staring deep into yours, you think he’s gonna lean back in again. but you hear a faint voice sound, growing louder. your eyes both widen. the janitor.

without a second thought, niki pushes you. 

he does it lightly, although it’s still enough to make you lose your balance, and for a second you stare back at him, betrayal evident before you fall backwards—

straight into the pool. 

your eyes just barely peek open in the water, and then there’s a splash accompanying yours a few seconds later. 

he easily swims to you, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips to his once more. it was a much different experience from just a few seconds ago. 

you stay entwined like that together, eyes squeezed shut, until you actually can’t breathe anymore and you have to smack niki’s arm. you both rise to the top, heaving water and air. 

after a few seconds of coughing and gathering your bearings, niki’s raspy voice fills the air. 

“at least he’s gone. i’ve always wanted to do that.”

you roll your eyes, splashing water back at him in revenge for pushing you earlier. “seriously? after we got almost got caught? we could’ve drowned!”  

you splash him again, “also, you could’ve given me a heads up!”

he grins, wiping the running water free from his face. “and where’s the fun in that?”

you shake your head in amazement, “you’re actually an idiot. i can’t believe you, niki.” 

“an idiot who saved us from getting caught.”

after returning home together, you sit and enjoy the peaceful silence as niki dries your hair. your mind can’t help but replay the last few moments, from finding the picture at school to kissing niki, and then finally get pushed into the pool. specifically, the kissing part. 

growing sleepy at the soft and warm feeling of niki’s hands running through your hair, you almost don’t hear him when he says, “all done.”

you thank him and he looks around awkwardly. 

“what is it?” you squint at him. 

“well, i wanted to apologize. i didn’t mean to make to feel that way. i was just really worried about you, and i felt hurt you didn’t tell me why you snuck into school again today. did you not trust me? did i do something wrong?”

you soften, eyes falling to the floor. 

“i’m so sorry, niki. i didn’t mean to lash out on you. of course i trust you, i just wanted to do something for myself for once. without needing your or anyone else’s help.” 

you exhale, “the reason i left today was for this—“ you take the damp, crumpled picture and unfold it as best as you can. 

niki’s hands fall to his side. “oh god.”

“it was danielle. she took my bracelet and i-i think she wanted my boyfriend. i know it has to be her.”

“w-what? but how?”

you shake your head. he goes to hug you. 

you feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you won’t waste any tears on her. you pull back to look at niki, with a determined expression on your face. 

“you have to catch her and make sure they get what they deserve.” 

niki stares at you deeply, “are you sure? because if you are, i won’t stop.”

he wonders why you say you and not we.

at that, you falter. 

“no. i never be sure because she is—was my best friend and i will always hold that guilt in me. but you have to do something about it.” 

niki’s hold around you tightens, “and what about you?”

you smile, albeit sadly. “you know i can’t stay here, hiding away forever. i don’t belong here. i already existed in your world, and at some point, i have to leave soon. i can feel it.” 

it was the same feeling as when you first came here. that day you felt off. the feeling that you don’t belong anywhere, but this time, you feel fulfilled. complete. like you were ready to go back home. 

“it’s not something i can explain, but i know it,” you look at him with determined eyes. 

and he looks back at you with pained ones. 

niki is able to convince jungwon to get his dad to reinvestigate the case again. the picture is given up as evidence, and danielle and haerin are taken in. 

the day they confessed out of guilt, you and niki celebrate by sneaking onto your school’s rooftop. the same place where it all started.

it’s a cold and windy night, but you could care less about getting sick. because it was your last day anyway. 

you didn’t tell niki, but you had a good feeling—like the world was patting you on the back and saying, “you worked hard.” 

the two of you watch the stars, snuggled up and reflecting on how your lives came to be like this. wondering how far away apart your worlds were. 

you kiss niki’s cheek, wishing to remember the feeling of being in his arms forever. his scent, his touch, his warmth, you wish you could keep all of it. you smile at him, willing back the tears. 

“there was a reason i bumped into you that day, of all people. there was a reason you came into my life, and i came into yours, niki.” 

he bites his lip, “y/n... you changed my life. every day with you was better than the last.” 

if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up. you trace his face, so it will remain ingrained in your mind forever, even when you go back to your world. 

“what will happen when i leave?” you whisper. 

“how will you even get back home?”

you shrug, “i don’t know how, but i know that i will.”

niki laughs, “that’s the y/n i know.”

as he kisses you once more, a star falls across the sky. 

the next day, you find a ticket in your bag. a train ticket. 

you don’t recall having bought one, and you don’t question niki. you only ask him to take you to the train station.

while walking hand and hand, you reminisce on the past month or so. “will we still remember this once you go back to your world?”

your body trembles, “i don’t know.”

“then… will i ever see you again?”

you don’t want to meet his eyes, because you know you’ll cry. 

yes, you want to say. instead, you say, “ i don’t know.”

niki wipes a stray tear on your face. you don’t even know how you reached your stop already. 

“this is it,” he says. 

but neither of you move. 

“don’t worry, even if i don’t remember you, you’ll always be in my heart. we’ll meet in your world,” he reminds you while the tears start falling down both of your faces. 

“don’t forget that there’s another me out there to annoy you. you just need to search hard.” 

you sniffle, playfully pushing him away as you furiously blink away the tears that blur your vision. you needed to soak up the sight of him as much of him as you could.

“i promise i’ll find you again.” 

he holds onto you until the very end, until you slip out of his grasp once more.

crossing the platform into the train while giving him one last, slow wave was painful. the last thing you can think of is the fact that you never knew. you never asked for niki’s full name. his real one. 

you never knew niki’s name.

and then everything fades into nothing. 

that’s the last time niki ever sees you. the train passes by in a flash, blowing his bangs across his face while he tries his best to keep that fake smile on his face for you—all for you before you go. 

then, you’re gone. 

in those seconds as the train passes, niki knows exactly why he did it. why he helped you through all of it, through everything together. 

all because you were there in class. you never looked at him, but he looked at you. he saw all of you, everyday—even if you didn’t know it. all your quirks and habits that he couldn’t help but find cute. you made his days interesting. 

but he was the coward for never approaching you. that was his fault because one day, you weren’t there anymore. 

and he had to pretend like nothing happened. on the outside, that’s how it was. even if he felt the slightest connection, tiniest pull towards you, you were still strangers. 

you were strangers until you knocked into him on the train platform. 

niki had to be selfish. he thinks it could have been fate that he saw you again, but now he’s just left with the lingering regret and feelings. those memories flash past like the train does. they come and go in the blink of an eye- a split second. 

when the train is gone, niki frowns and wonders why he’s standing there. 

he also wonders why it feels like there’s a piece of his heart missing. 

after that, he attends your funeral in his world. it was an open funeral to everyone who wanted to come- classmates, friends, and him. niki didn’t even know you that well, but he get this unexpalaniable urge that he should go- he needs to go. he brings flowers and gets to see you one last time. 

when niki sees the picture of your serene face, he can’t help but get this sense of peace, like everything’s resolved. 

and then he’s free.

epilogue...

you sigh, trudging along the walkway on the way to work. looking at your surroundings, you were getting major deja vu. but at this point, you were used to having episodes like that. 

there were many, many times where some things simply felt so familiar. but it was like your memory was wiped and you couldn’t remember why. some times you had flashes of an adventure, a feeling of mystery, a boy. 

ever since some day in high school, it just happened. and from then on, you’ve always felt like something was missing. or wrong. you can’t tell. it became a part of you, to the point where you almost forgot about it. that feeling of misbelonging, being just out of reach. it’s strange, like a weird occurrence that makes you want to open your third eye or whatever to find out more.

even after graduating, it never left you. 

you being so lost in your thoughts, fail to notice when you bump into someone coming off the train you were about to get onto. 

“i’m sorry,” you quickly apologize, but you soon falter when you meet eyes with sparkling brown ones. weirdly enough, they draw you in. 

they were familiar, you’ve certainly seen them somewhere. the moment lasts for a while, with the two of you standing still in the middle of the passway, staring at each other.  

you slowly smile, extending a hand. “i apologize if i’m mistaken, but have we met before?”

he stares at you too, confused yet enthralled. 

“i-i think you may be mistaken,” he starts hesitantly and you begin to apologize. 

“are you sure?“ you quickly introduce yourself, “and you?”

you swore you were not such a desperate person, but you couldn’t help it, not this time and definitely not in front of this particularly alluring guy.  

“me?”

he takes a quick glance at you before taking your hand with a small smile. 

“my name is nishimura riki.”

first i wanted to say thank you for reading! this was a rough time coming, and i wanted to apologize for the long wait. this has actually been a wip of mine for years and i finally was able to finish it with riki after months and months of writing. this past year has been the worst one so far, but i'm just grateful to still be here. just feeling super appreciative for those who stuck with me and waited patiently. thank you. can't wait to see you guys again soon with the next oneshot (hint hint)!

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[r3starttt]

KISS ME

PAIRING: Jackson! ellie x reader

CW: request. outbreak | tlou universe.

SUMMARY: Ellie takes care of you after patrol.

DON'T BUY TLOU | PALESTINE MP PALESTINE LINKS | DAILY CLICK

TAGLIST | - ellie taglist: @ilovetaylorrr @imdrowningindispair @rkivedpages

The night sky stretches above you, a deep canvas of blue-black, with only a few stubborn stars daring to puncture its vastness. The moon, however, shone with an almost ethereal glow, casting a silvery light that softened the edges of the night. It illuminated your path home. Yet, its light did little to ease the weariness clinging to your body. Every muscle ached, each movement sending a fresh wave of pain through your tired limbs.

The ground beneath your feet felt distant, as if you were walking on shattered glass, each step a jagged reminder of the day’s relentless toll. It felt as though the very bones in your feet might shatter with the weight of the exhaustion that clung to you, heavy and unyielding.

From the moment you left the safety of yours and Ellie's shared walls, it was a relentless march through the wilderness, every mile weighing down on you like a stone.

The hours went by in a haze of heat and sweat, the sun’s unforgiving rays beating down on you until you felt as though your very essence was melting away. The memory of that heat still lingered, a phantom pain that sapped what little strength you had left.

Your legs had carried you far beyond what should have been your limit. Every patrol was a test, pushing you to the edge, but it was always the final stretch—the steps that brought you back home—that hurt the most. The pain of a long day wasn’t truly felt until you stood on the threshold of safety, when the body, sensing the nearness of rest, began to unravel, finally allowed to release.

The night was quiet, the crickets were quieter tonight, their usual chorus subdued, as if they, too, were tired. Instead, the usual symphony had been replaced by the distant air, a murmur of voices- the sound of the town coming alive in the evening.

People greeted the returning patrols, their voices carrying a mix of relief and fatigue, like echoes of a world that still held onto some semblance of normalcy. Your own group had been particularly weary tonight, the day’s struggles etched into the lines of their faces as they shared tired smiles and half-hearted jokes. Last voices you heard were tinged with exhaustion, drifted to you, words that blended together in a chorus of shared fatigue.

But the sounds of the night could not drown out the ghosts that clung to your mind—the groans and cries of the infected, the hollow echoes of what once were human beings. Their twisted forms a grim reminder of what awaited those who let their guard down.

A smear of dried blood clung to your cheek, the crimson stark against your sweat-streaked skin. Every inch of you was covered in the grime of the day, the sun having left its mark in the form of a relentless burn that sapped your energy and left you feeling hollowed out.

The bruises and cuts scattered across your body throbbed with a dull ache, a heavy weight that seemed to settle in your stomach, twisting it into tight knots. It felt like you’d been running on empty, forcing yourself through sheer willpower, and now that you were so close to rest, the pain was finally catching up to you.

Your fingers brushed against the rough wood of Ellie’s porch door, the familiar texture grounding you for just a moment before it was pulled open. The door swung inward with surprising ease, and there she was—Ellie. The first thing you saw was her eyes, green orbs filled with worry as they drank in the sight of you. She had been waiting, her anxiety palpable in the way her fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together as if she could knit away her fear.

Without a word, she reached for you, guiding you inside with a gentle hand on your arm. You stumbled through the doorway, the weight of your body dragging you down, but before you could even think to shrug it off, Ellie was there, the moth tattoo peeking out from beneath her sleeve as she motioned for you to turn around. Your body moved on autopilot, dragging itself to obay her command, sluggishly.

Ellie had barely waited for you to move before she was easing the heavy backpack from your shoulders, her fingers deftly undoing the straps as if they were second nature. Too enveloped in the warmth, in the soft glow of the Christmas lights adorning the room and adding to the feeling of safety that she always manages to create around you- barely registering the weight of your backpack being lifted from your shoulders.

“Hey, you okay?” Her voice was soft, a quiet melody tinged with concern, though you could only manage a nod, your throat too tight to form words. The day had stolen your voice, leaving you with nothing but the heaviness in your chest. But Ellie’s voice wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing in its familiarity.

The space enlightened in a gentle, golden hue. It felt like a safe haven, a sanctuary where the world outside could not reach you.

You stumbled toward the couch, your hands fumbling with the laces of your boots. On your ears echoed the faint rustle of fabric as Ellie hung up your—her—jacket on the hook by the door, the simple act somehow grounding you even further.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she murmured, her gaze lifting to meet yours, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Despite the exhaustion pulling at your very soul, you found comfort in that smile, in the way she always knew how to take care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself.

Yet the calm faded with a frustrated groan that escaped your lips as you encountered a stubborn knot, the simple task suddenly insurmountable in your current state. Ellie noticed immediately, her eyes softening with sympathy as she was already there, kneeling down in front of you, "Stop, you’re gonna make it worse,” she chided gently, her hands brushing yours aside with that lopsided smile you knew so well.

“Let me,” her whisper insisting once again, preventing you from even thinking on fighting her back. Ellie's tone low and husky, a sound that always sent a shiver down your spine. Her fingers worked deftly at the knot, untying it with ease, her touch careful and deliberate. As she did, she glanced up, her voice dropping to a softer, more husky tone, as if trying to coax a response out of you. “Did you hear what I said?”

You managed a half-hearted reply, more of a mumble than anything else. “Get me cleaned, yes.” her fingers finally loosening the stubborn knot, helping you out of your boots. It felt as if the weight of the day begin to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing that you had her with you, in this very moment to finally provide you safeness.

She would never say it, but you could see the relief in her expression, the way her worry eased just a fraction realizing the same thing. After a long day, she had you there, safe.

"Come on," you groaned, tilting your head back as you sighed deeply. Inside your mind, you counted down from five before finally taking her hand and standing up.

The stiffness in your feet began to ease as you pressed your feet against the cold, hard concrete floor. Its coolness and firmness, in contrast to the warm flesh, added just enough pressure to make you feel better.

Ellie led you into the bathroom—it was only a few steps, really. Her hand was a steadying presence, her fingers resting gently on your opposite arm with each step you took. The small space was dimly lit, a single candle flickering and casting soft, dancing shadows on the walls. Ellie’s bathroom was simple but functional—a small tub, a sink, and a water system. A barrel of water sat near the ceiling, connected to a series of tubes that fed into the showerhead, sink, and toilet. It wasn’t much, but it worked, and in this world, that was everything.

The absence of her touch contrasted with the tender atmosphere. From your viewpoint, you could see her hair, messily tidied into a bun, with a few baby hairs and stray strands adorning her neck and the area behind her ears. You wanted to kiss them.

She knelt by the tub, her movements loud as she filled a bucket with water. The sound of the water splashing into the bucket was soothing, a gentle reminder that you were finally safe—finally home.

Ellie set the bucket down next to the tub and looked up at you, only then realizing you were already looking back. It was quiet, aside from the sound of the water, but everything felt blurry in her presence.

You shifted slightly, resting the back of your arms and elbows against the sink to keep your composure, making enough space for both of you and allowing her to stand up.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, wiping away the dried blood that clung stubbornly to your skin. "Arms up," she said with quiet determination, an unspoken promise that she wouldn’t let anything else be a struggle tonight.

You nodded, too tired to do much else, and let her help you out of your clothes. Each piece of fabric that left your body and fell to the floor felt like another layer of the day’s grime and exhaustion being peeled away. By the time you stood there, bare and vulnerable, you felt lighter—still weary, but no longer weighed down.

The tub was cold and stiff, making your bones ache. But it was all easily forgotten. Ellie dipped a sponge into the bucket and began to gently cleanse your skin. She worked in silence, her touch tender and methodical as she wiped away the dirt, blood, and sweat that clung to you. The water was cool against your overheated skin, soothing the burns left by the sun and the aches buried deep in your muscles. The sponge moved across your body with a kind of reverence, as if she were handling something precious. In that moment, you were—precious to her, and safe in her care.

When the sponge had done its work, Ellie carefully poured the dirty water over you, rinsing away the last remnants of the day and ensuring your hair was thoroughly wet. The water cascaded down your body, carrying away the grime and blood, leaving you feeling half-clean—both physically and emotionally.

You let out a soft sigh, feeling as though the water was rinsing away more than just dirt. It was washing away the tension, the fear, and the exhaustion, leaving you with nothing but the comfort of being home, of being with her.

Ellie reached for the soap, lathering it between her hands before gently running them over your skin. The smell of it—something mild and earthy, a scent she had traded for a few weeks back—filled the small bathroom. The soap felt comforting against your battered skin, and Ellie’s hands moved with the kind of care that came from knowing just how fragile you felt in that moment.

She repeated those same motions later, with the soap on your body, her fingers careful not to apply too much pressure whenever there was a cut, bruise, or anything that could cause pain.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Ellie murmured, her voice a low, comforting hum that resonated in your chest. You managed a weak nod, closing your eyes as you surrendered fully to her care. The world outside ceased to exist, reduced to the sound of water splashing against porcelain and the feeling of Ellie’s hands moving over your body in a slow, rhythmic dance.

Finally, she reached up and pulled the chain that controlled the flow of water from the barrel, letting a gentle stream of water fall over you from the showerhead. It wasn’t much—she had to be careful with how much water was used—but it was enough.

"Here," she whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead as she handed you a small towel. It was barely enough to properly dry your hair, but you always managed to make it work.

Too focused on the wet sounds in your ears coming from your hair being dried, you barely noticed the commotion Ellie made while searching for a proper towel for you. She swore she had a clean one left—or maybe she had just convinced herself earlier to avoid doing laundry today. But you didn't know that, so she had to hurry.

When she finally appeared in the doorway, you tilted your chin up, meeting her hands first and then the towel she held. "Come here," she murmured. In a matter of seconds, she had the towel wrapped around your shoulders and was guiding you out of the bathroom and, much to your relief, into the very desirable bed.

She knelt in front of you again, her hands busy with the towel, drying you off with the same care she’d shown throughout. As she worked, her eyes kept flicking up to meet yours, as if she needed to reassure herself that you were really safe, here.

"Can I?" she asked, her fingers lightly grazing the skin of your thighs. Her hazel eyes, dilated pupils, focused on all the bruises, all the wounds. And again, you didn't reply verbally but simply moved the towel aside, exposing yourself before her and allowing her to reach every inch of skin that needed the tenderness of her touch.

It took some pain, hisses, and a kiss here and there. The needle was probably something no human could ever get used to, nor the sensation of the thread between your skin. But you made it work; you had to.

Ellie was gentle, helping you into a clean set of clothes—something soft and warm that smelled faintly of her. You could barely keep your eyes open by this point, the weight of the day catching up with you now that you were finally clean and comfortable.

"Hey," Ellie called softly, taking your hand and gripping it just enough to reassure you. You turned your chin up, meeting her pretty eyes and that sheepish smile. "Let's go eat, come on."

As you did every morning, you forced yourself out of bed. Just as you had done with the couch when you first came in, you took a deep breath, counted to three, and stood up.

Dinner most nights was something she threw together while you were out on patrol. Today, the aroma of a hearty stew filled the room, mingling with the faint scent of herbs.

Usually you’d joke about her cooking, mocking her “chef talents”—she wasn't the best. But tonight, the words stuck in your throat, weighed down by exhaustion and the thought of simply touching the bed again, it looked so inviting.

You slid into your seat at the table, the day's exhaustion making your limbs heavy. Ellie chuckled, her usual dorky grin present but softened by concern. "It's not fancy, but—" she said, sliding a plate in front of you. "It's edible."

She watched as you took tentative bites, her hand resting on your back, offering silent encouragement. As usual, she didn’t touch her own food until she saw you eat.

The silence between you was comfortable, the warmth of the stew seeping into your bones, grounding you after the chaos of the day. Yet, as the meal progressed, your appetite remained low. You gave small glances at Ellie, considering your usual reluctance to eat her cooking.

"I know you’re tired, but you haven't had proper food since breakfast."

You knew that if you refused again, she’d let it slide, waiting until you were sound asleep before eating anything herself just to avoid an argument.

But after all she’d done to take care of you tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to fight her on this. "I’ll wait with you. We can eat together.” With a quiet nod, you picked up your spoon again and took another bite.

Relief. Ellie could only stare at you with relief. The adrenaline of every time you went out on patrol never really fading until next day- for her, it wasn't only the thoughts of you getting hurt, but killed, taken by anyone and being hurt. She feared humans mostly.

And then, seeing you in front of her- yes, hurt, but nothing else- it was like all the anxiety finally made any sense. What would it be if any day you didn't come back, how could she ever manage to eat dinner herself, alone.

Having you in front of her, so close. Feeling the warmth of your skin under her hoodie- the fact that you're the one on her clothes, right next to her. The fact that she's having to force you to eat. It's always a relief, to know you're here, with her, that she has you.

It wasn't until her brain finally realized it was all good that she started to eat.

You always finished first. Only waiting for your stomach to feel full enough, with a gentle move, you pushed the plate away slightly to let her know you were done. Ellie always replied with a nod and a quick glance. Her hand on your thigh as she finished the last few bites of her meal.

The usual banter and teasing were absent, replaced by a quiet understanding—a silent agreement that tonight was about more than just food or sleep. It was about taking care of each other, about finding comfort in the little things. Like—no dishes to be washed tonight. That's future you both's problem.

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to your tired mind.

You didn’t argue, letting her lead you to the small bed you shared. The sheets cool against your skin as you slipped under them, Ellie sliding in beside you. She pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you in a comfortable and tight enough embrace that felt like the safest place in the world. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back lulled you.

You could feel the rhythm of her breathing against your neck. It all creating the most desirable sanctuary. And after hours that felt endless, you could close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of normalcy—the simple, precious moment of being held by someone who cares deeply, knowing that no matter what tomorrow brings, you'd wake up next to her, ready to face it together.

[mackandcheezy]

Beneath the White Sheets (Young! President! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

​​A/N: A simple domestic fluff turned slightly sensual hot, slightly crazy, boyfriend who can’t keep his hands to himself. For my lovely anon who just wanted something less depressing than the typical hunger games fic

People are utterly stupid. At least that’s what Coriolanus had been telling himself for the past two hours. Being made president of Panem was everything he had ever wanted and more but he couldn’t stand how much conversation it involved. He could never stand to fraternize with those less intelligent than himself and that seemed fo be all this was comprised of. Though it all was worth it to come home to you. 

You had met in school, what felt like such a long ago. Started as enemies as all good lovers do, competing to mentor the best tribute for the 10th hunger games. Yours had died before even making it to the arena, a fact Coryo never quite let you forget, or the fact that his won. But you were always quick to remind him that he cheated so it didn’t count. The same small frown would appear on his face at the mention of Lucy Gray. 

You knew they had a history, but you also knew that nobody could ever love you the way he did. On a fundamental level she would always resent who he was, how he was raised, his “kind.” You on the other hand knew what it meant to work your way up from the bottom, to have drive and passion. You were one in the same in that way, but you kept him in check, able to dull some of the red that always tinted the edges of his plans. 

The moment he bursted in the door you knew it had been a bad day even before he started ranting. 

“I can’t BELIEVE these people, it’s like they think the world runs on expensive fabrics and tiny foods.” Coryo threw his suit jacket into the corner of the room, the white coat crumpling like a piece of paper. Running a hand through his hair he finally took the time to look at you properly. 

His eyes raked your form, taking in the way your freshly washed locks framed your face. Your eyes were focused on him, that same worried look ever present on your face, it brought a warm flush to his cheeks. Even a year into marriage it never ceased to surprise him that everyday someone could care. That even after seeing him, the real him with skeletons in the closet, you still loved him— still forgave him. That simple fact was enough to make the stress of the day melt from his body. Shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit, jaw coming unclenched for the first time since he’d left at six am that morning. 

He watched as you shuffled out of bed, in that same night dress that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath but not enough to satisfy his desires. Your pebbled nipples poking out just enough to make him want to do nothing more than to take one into his mouth and taste the sweet comfort of home. The thought of the taste of your skin already bringing a burning desire to his mind. 

But you could simply fuck anytime, right now was for something more pure. 

You floated across the room and wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your face in his chest, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too. I should fire everyone and replace them with you instead, you’re more intelligent that all of them combined,” he placed a greedy kiss to your lips before pulling away, “and much sexier too” his hot breath on your lips making you flush. 

You allowed him to change his clothes wordlessly. Basking in the presence of your lover, Coryo doing the same. Your relationship was built on comfortable silence, if something needed to be said it would, but for now all either one of you needed was to feel the other. 

Like a well rehearsed play you both flowed back to the bed, allowing the cool sheets and soft mattress to absorb your bodies until you met in the middle. Coryo wrapped every open limb around you until you were one. With your ear on his chest you listened to his heart beat. The rhythmic thumping grounding you, this was reality, white sheets and curly blonde hair. 

“I’m scared” that statement sent chills through your body. Never had Coryo admitted to something so-- human in all the time you had known him. 

“Do we have something to be scared for?” 

“The thought of this being temporary fleets my mind often these days, that one day I will have nothing to provide to you anymore” The statement broke your heart. Deep down you knew he cared, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. Yet her he was the very thought of letting you down was terrifying. 

“I don’t need anything but you,” You felt the held breath ruffle the strands of hair at the top of your head. “You are enough Coriolanus Snow, I promised myself to you because even a poor beggar I would want nothing more in this life than you” 

“I have never wanted anything more than you” The confession surprised you in a sense. You knew you were an important part of the puzzle, but Panem always seemed to come first. 

You allowed yourself to reflect on that as you watched the sun drop below the skyline of the Capitol, a warm orangey-pink engulfing the room. Allowing yourself to relax in the strong embrace of your husband, and give in to the sleep pulling at your eyes.

[clementinegreye]

the sweetest sin of all

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader ||

summary: in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):

word count: 3.4k

warnings: heavy tension, hurt comfort, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):

a/n: hi! i wrote this entire thing for a friend, but maybe you might enjoy it too! this is my first piece of writing on this new blog so if you like feel free to like, reblog or even just let me know! and hopefully if it goes well there'll be more soon!

a/n update: it went well, here's part two!)

From the dim lighting of the office it was almost impossible to tell the exact lateness of the night. His watch consistently ticking, remained a steady rhythm. He ran a hand across his face, his tie undone and lying, long discarded on his desk. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, unbuttoned and an almost vulnerable step away from his usual armour. Papers containing violence were spread haphazardly and with chaos across his desk. A nearly forgotten glass of strong neat whiskey sat in place of his usual bitter coffee.

His team had been on the case for nearly a week, and Hotch felt they were no closer to catching the Unsub. The whole team was feeling the pressure. The profile told him they were dealing with a moral enforcer, a highly organised, violent offender with a clear mission. It should have been easy for them but bodies seemed to be continuously appearing and everyone was feeling uneasy and frustrated.

He was drowning in the details of this case, the Unsub's pattern ever-present in his mind. He thought of the remaining sins - envy, wrath, and lust - and something burned deep within his chest. It was a dangerous game they played, one where the stakes were higher than any case he'd ever worked on.

Being head of the team he felt the responsibility more vehemently than the rest, and he was doing something he’d promised the team he wouldn’t. He was letting it get to him.

There’d been four victims so far, each killed to match one of the seven deadly sins. So far his victims had been; gluttony - an overzealous upscale restaurant critic who binged food that he slated publicly, greed - a high-profile stock broker with the inability to control his obsession with obtaining more of his client's money, sloth - a wealthy trust fund baby who squandered their university scholarship out of laziness and pride - a wealthy woman with a shopping addiction who frequented beauty salons and had an intense social media presence flaunting herself.

Each victim came from a different geographical area of the city and Garcia hadn’t been able to uncover any crossover between their lives where it might have been somewhere they could have met the Unsub. There were no leads and the team felt at a loss. 

Knowing the Unsub was three victims away from the end of his mission, Hotch knew they were close to losing him if they didn’t catch a break soon. He’d sent the team home to get some sleep and told them to be ready bright and early the next day. Yet Hotch couldn't bring himself to leave the office, hoping the crime scene photos might uncover something he'd missed. He thought everyone had listened to his orders until he was drawn away from the graphic images in front of him by a gentle knock at the door.

"Come in." He croaked harshly, the hours of not speaking catching up to his vocal chords.

It was her. Of course, it was her.

She always had a way of pulling him from the edge, of grounding him when the world became too much. In the chaos and uncertainty of their work, she was his constant, his unwavering beacon of light. She was his solace, his calm in the storm, and in that moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her.

She was like honey, dripping out and pooling where flies could get stuck on the intoxication and drown. He could feel it, the danger she could be. If he’d been a man less controlled he could see how she could be his every downfall and triumph. In her, he saw a reflection of all his desires and fears. She was every strength and weakness. In the moment, he couldn't help but want to drown in the intoxicating allure of her, his deadly and dangerous, yet irresistibly sweet sin.

‘I’m heading home for the night…’ Her voice trailed off in a quiet hush to match the silence of the office. 

The creases in his forehead from pouring over crime scenes and endless theories seemed to smooth out. He breathed out hours' worth of tension in a single breath, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn upwards so quickly that unless she’d been a profiler paying attention she might not have noticed. The way his body language shifted was subtle enough to the untrained eye, but not to her. He couldn’t conceal himself in his controlled, cold-edged front as well as he usually could when she was around.

"I gave those orders hours ago." He mused, leaning back in his chair, the breath of a sigh dying on his lips.

She gently shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "I thought you might be used to me defying your orders by now, Hotch. You should take your own advice, didn’t you promise to stop working so late," she replied, a glint in her eyes that held an irresistible challenge. Their playful banter was a welcome change from the dark seriousness that he’d been so consumed by moments ago.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief waiting for his retort.

"I didn’t promise anything." He huffed.

She didn’t wait for an invitation, she didn’t need to. Crossing the threshold of his office and making her way to the imposing desk of the Unit Chief.

She’d not seen her boss look so troubled by a case in a long time. Her gaze was drawn to him as his elbows leaned against the desk, his usually impeccable suit dishevelled. She noted the way the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the stoic FBI Unit Chief. It was a stark contrast to the man who was always put together, always in control. Yet, in that moment, he looked anything but. Not yet unravelled, but on the edge of it.

She moved further into the office, she was not someone who second-guessed her decisions. She walked with confidence, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge her black work trousers tight across her thighs. She rested her hand on the desk, dangerously close to her Hotch’s, mere centimetres.

His gaze shifted from the papers in front of him and followed the contours of her face, lingering a moment too long on her lips. He swallowed hard, his mind flickering with thoughts he'd held at bay for far too long. But he was Unit Chief, and professionalism might as well have been his middle name. He lightly shook his head, feeling the back of his eyes burn from the focus he’d had all day.

Hotch wasn’t one to open up, he was always controlled but around her, there was a tug at the stitches of his personality.

‘I have a bad feeling about this case.’ He hummed, the night breeze catching against the window. He could smell her perfume, mixing with the scent of burnt coffee and paper. He dare not think about it too long.

He reached across his desk and grabbed his near-forgotten whiskey, downing it in one drag. He bent towards where her legs were hanging over his desk, motioning for her to lift them. She drew them up towards her chest and he opened the drawer beneath her pulling an expensive-looking bottle from it and refilling the glass, this time handing it to her. Their fingers grazed slightly with the exchange. His warm, hers icy cold - meeting to form the perfect temperature.

‘We have no leads. I always trust the profile, but this case… We’ve got nothing.’ His eyes watched her as she swirled the liquid around the glass, her eyes watching it splash against the sides. He sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands before leaning his head back, a deep exhale exiting his thin lips.

‘We’ll get him.’ She said confidently, something shifted in her tone. It was like a dagger's sharp edge, certainty dripping off it like blood. He almost believed her, but she could see the already dim light dissipating from his dark eyes. She felt sympathy pooling in the tips of her fingers. If she didn’t hadn’t been holding their shared glass she might have reached out and touched him so that it could bleed from her into him, so that he would feel less alone.

She leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his. It was unclear what she was searching for in them. He couldn’t read her entirely, even with all his years of profiling. When she smiled, he felt his heart catch in his throat. It was like looking directly at the sun. Burning and bright hot.

‘You should follow your own orders… And for once so should I. Go home. Get some rest.’ She downed the liquid with a swift tip of her head. Hotch watched the curve of her neck as she moved and the way she licked her lips catching a fallen drop of liquor. She laid the glass down on the desk, allowing her hand to brush over his. His skin crackled with electricity.

She moved with grace as she climbed down from his desk. That one moment shared more intimate than she’d expected it to feel, with their proximity, the lateness of the hour and the unusually undone Aaron sitting at his desk.

His eyes followed her every movement, skin stinging as if he’d been burned. She was halfway to the door before he heard himself call out to her. It almost didn’t sound like his own voice.

‘Wait. Don’t go yet. Come here.’ His voice was firm like it always was, but there was a depth to it that she hadn’t heard before. One she’d always longed for. His eyes glinted with dark hues as he watched her turn from the door. He almost breathed out in relief.

She had an unreadable expression. One that set the blood in his veins on fire. She lowered her head, and with it, her eyes darkened. He stood from his desk, making his way over to her with steps that felt dreamlike. Their eyes met with an energy never shared before and once in front of her he reached out, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he had an unobscured view of her whole face. The same face that had the power to completely undo him.

Her eyes widened slightly as if surprised by his gentle touch, but at the same time, there was a knowing in them as if she’d been waiting for it all along. She remained still, and his heart pounded in his chest as he looked into his eyes, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It felt like any words would have made the moment less intimate.

His hand lingered against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his touch was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his office. Her skin felt like it was burning under him. The silence between them was palpable, filled with the yet unspoken words and emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Hotch, usually so controlled in his feelings suddenly felt so unsteady. His heart beat suspiciously with the feeling that perhaps he’d crossed a line.

‘How do you know?’ He whispered, eyes scanning hers as if he were a detective trying to uncover the evidence that gave her certainty. In the light of the office, she looked like she’d been hand carved, art that he’d been lucky enough to be in the presence of. He traced his thumb over her lips, eyes heavy with a mixture of desire and something else she couldn't quite place. It was a dangerous gesture, one that could endanger his whole career.

'I trust you, and that’s all I need to know that we’ll get him.' she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes glazed with a devotion that almost made him groan. The conviction of her words pierced his wavering confidence. He’d gone from feeling almost hopeless to buzzing with determination.

He let his hand fall away from her face, but the warmth lingered, an almost promise that what she’d been sure she’d felt moments ago had indeed been real. Reality swarmed his brain, aware of the situation he’d almost found himself in. He straightened up, posture contrasting his relatively dishevelled exterior.

"You’re right, you should follow my orders. Go home, get some rest. I told the team we’d start fresh in the morning," he instructed, a softness in his voice that was rarely displayed. But she didn’t move, and he didn’t either.

He watched her eyes for any sign of discomfort, the tension in the room was palpable, an electrifying current that Hotch didn’t dare to break. Silence blanketed them, only broken by the ticking of his watch. It was a solitary reminder of the passing time, yet the urgency of their case had fallen to the back of his mind.

‘Close the door.’ She instructed, using the same authority that Hotch usually spoke with. The change in dynamic almost made him falter, but with a small smirk, he moved towards the door. He’d been aware of the power imbalance he held in his position but with the tone of her voice, there was a subtle shift in the air between them. She moved back towards his desk with certainty. Moving his name tag so she could perch to face the dark space of the office.

Their eyes met across the room. She tilted her head to the side, examining his body language. As he locked the door behind him, the air seemed to constrict around them, the room becoming a world of its own where only they existed. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the lock and their breathing. It echoed throughout the office, bouncing off the walls and settling into their bones. The tension escalated, but it was different now, charged with an anticipation that neither of them could ignore.

He might have been unit chief, but right here, right now, she was in charge. The line between professional and personal blurred dangerously as their eyes locked, a promise of something more hanging in the balance. The air was charged now, they were poised, daring each other to make the first move. They both knew that they were on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could have dire consequences professionally.

Yet, the pull was too strong to ignore, and for the first time, Hotch allowed himself to teeter on the edge, his resolve tested by the powerful undercurrent of desire that crackled between them. Tonight, they were not just colleagues, they were two individuals drawn together by an irresistible force. In the room, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering under the surface for far too long had nowhere to hide.

On the desk, she rested each hand palm down to the side of her thighs and opened her legs wider to create space for his body to fit. She moved her head in a motion for him to step forward. Hotch couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, pupils were blown wide from more than just the darkness of the room. How long had he craved something so forbidden, how long had he denied himself the idea that this could ever happen?

As he moved closer to her, he couldn't help but think about the deadly sin of lust, a strong passion or longing that was deemed sinful. Here he was, teetering on the edge of crossing professional boundaries, something he’d never done. The balance of energy in the room was no longer solely from the stress of the case, it was about them - about her. He could have tried to argue that it was, but no jury in the state would believe him. If this were a trial, he was about to be found guilty.

The Unsub's deadly pattern echoed in his mind - the three sins he’d yet to kill for; envy, jealousy over another's life or possessions, wrath, a violent anger driven by hatred, and finally, lust, a powerful desire that can become all-consuming, much like the craving he was experiencing in that very moment. Looking upon her he felt envious of anyone who had ever been allowed to touch her, he felt wrath for anyone who had ever wronged or hurt her, and most of all he felt lust. He definitely felt lust, his desire for her taking over all his senses.

Was he caught between duty and desire? No, he had no doubt in his mind. The sheer intensity of her shared gaze and the way she was beckoning him forward smashed the boundaries of their relationship. He’d never seen her in this light, never dared to allow himself to think of her like this. But now she was in front of him how could he ever deny himself something so sweet?

Hotch had always been a man of control, a man who kept his emotions in check. But in this room, with the charged atmosphere heavy between them, he felt his resolve wavering. He was caught in the powerful current of the desire for her that he’d managed to keep at bay. He didn’t want to be in control anymore. 

He closed the distance between them, fitting himself between her legs, his hands landing on her hips as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She brought one hand off the desk to hold the waistband of his suit trousers, tugging lightly.

“Are you finally going to kiss me, Agent Hotchner?” She asked, voice dripping with honey. Sweetness laced with danger that hit him right in the chest like a bullet.

She was an intoxicating mix of all seven, a deadly sin in her own right. She was his lust, his unending desire. She was his gluttony, the one he wanted to consume endlessly. She was his greed, the one he wanted all for himself. She was his sloth, his reason for inertia. She was his wrath, the one who could ignite a fire in him like no other. She was his envy, the one he admired and coveted. And she was his pride, the one who made him feel like he was on top of the world.

‘You will be the ruin of me.’ He breathed, his eyes almost black. He looked down at her taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. He was entirely wrapped around her finger. Tonight, he decided, he would willingly drown in this sweet sin, consequences be damned.

‘That is entirely my intention.’ She chuckled and he groaned, a guttural sound that felt foreign to him.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team," he murmured, a playful undertone to his voice.

As he leaned down to capture her lips with his, he knew without a doubt that this was a deadly sin he was willing to commit. It was both sweet and intense, a perfect reflection of their now complicated relationship.

Her lips tasted of the whiskey they'd shared, sweet with a hint of burn that left him wanting more. She tasted like a curse, sickeningly sweet as if to cause him decay. He deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. He was standing on the cliff of the unknown, and he was more than willing to jump and fall headfirst.

As he pulled away, he couldn't help but study her face. He’d come face to face with endless serial killers, and been in the presence of pure evil. But he’d never been so close to something so dangerous. She was a temptation he couldn't resist. Sweeter than any apple in the Garden of Eden. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.

He could still taste her on the back of his tongue, sugar and shared whiskey burning. He’d never been so certain that he’d been willing to trade his control for the intoxicating sweetness that was her. She was a forbidden fruit that was too alluring to resist, and Aaron Hotchner had no more resistance left in him. Not now he’d tasted something so delicious.

After all, wasn't life about balancing the deadly sins and virtues? Tonight, he chose to sin.

(you can now read part two here!)

[sanemi-whore]

Cruel World (1)

You had two choices - allow your father to marry you off to the highest bidder or run away and decide your own fate. What you weren't expecting was to encounter a demon along the way. Sanemi x Reader (afab) warning: arrange (forced) marriage, readers father is abusive (not physically), mentions of death/blood, cursing, alcohol intake, sanemi being in denial of his feelings lol, unsolicited touching/groping/humping, masturbating (m), word count: 12.838 masterlist | Part 2 | Final

“Fix your face.” your fathers words were harsh as he spoke to you. He sits across from you, legs crossed and hands in his lap. “You should be honored that a man has offered so much to marry you.”

Honored.

You wanted to laugh.

There was nothing for you to be honored about. There was nothing honorable about being married off to a man you’ve just met - a man twice your age at that. You never imagined being in a loveless marriage with nothing to live for but to be a trophy wife. 

“Yes, Oto-san.” you murmur, head low. 

It wasn’t long ago when your father was requested by a man - an older man who appears just as old as your father, if not older - for a meeting. They spoke in hushed tones while you were ordered to cook and serve tea for your guest. 

Your hand shook as you served the tea when your ears picked up on the conversation.

You were the topic - your hand in marriage. Your head screamed for your father to deny it - to say that no money in the world could even buy you. However, he hadn’t. He agreed without little resistance and you felt sick to your stomach. You couldn’t hear anymore of the conversation and you sprinted to the bathroom. You fell to your knees and released the sobs you weren’t aware you were holding.

“Sleep.” your father ordered. “He will be here tomorrow morning to speak of the arrangements.”

You nod your head. You stand from the cushion you sat upon and bow your head. Your father’s eyes caught the way your throat tightens, but he chooses to ignore it.

You do not say a word to your father before turning away from him and making your way down the dim lit hall to your bedroom. The hardwood floors were cold against your feet as you made your way to your bedroom. You slide the doors closed behind you and lean against it.

You missed your mother. You were certain she wouldn’t allow your father to do this if she was alive. 

Your father himself wouldn’t have done this if life wasn’t cruel to the both of you. He wasn’t always a harsh man that drowned himself in alcohol to escape reality. He was once a kindhearted man who adored his family - until said family was ripped away from him. From the both of you.

You’re unsure how long you were leaning against the door lost in your thoughts. Your eyes began to burn and you blinked rapidly to retain the moisture in your eyes. Your eyes darted to the window - the moon shined through it, casting a glow through the dark room.

Your feet walk before your mind can register it. Before you know it, you’re outside of your home in general and sprinting through the grassy field. You nearly trip over your kimono, but you manage.

You had nowhere to go. You were out of your mind. But you would rather be nowhere than be sold to that old man.

The area is dark and the only light guiding you is the moon above. Your chest heaves as your legs continue to run and you’re positive they would give out soon. You cursed your lack of stamina.

Your eyes swell with tears when you feel a sharp pain in your side.. Your feet lift from the ground and you’re being flung into the nearest tree. Your breath escapes from you and you’re now groaning in pain.

“Well…”

Your vision is blurry, the tears streaming harshly down your cheeks. Your attempt to regain your composure, but you’re badly wounded. 

“...you shouldn't be out at night.” a sinister voice booms through your ears. “You never know who lurks in the dark.”

You can hear footsteps coming closer to you. Your fingernails dug into the dirt, arms trembling.

You scream when your hair is yanked backwards and you’re lifted to your knees, an excruciating pain running through your veins. Your kimono and hadajuban is pushed down to reveal your bare breast and you feel what you assume are teeth sinking into you.

You were going to die - no doubt by a demon.

To think you survived this long - survived the massacre your mother and brother endured - just to die now on your own.

A gust of wind surrounds you, so rough that you fall forward once more. The demon's teeth are no longer on you and you take note that the demon itself isn’t either. Your hand immediately goes to the wound onto your chest, blood seeping through. 

You blink your eyes hastily to see your surroundings.

The demon was horrendous - eyes dark as the night and skin appearing as if it was burned off. He had horns coming from his forehead and on his lips was your blood. He licks them, eyebrows furrowing to the man in front of you.

You take note that the man is tall with white spiky hair that glows underneath the moonlight. His back is facing you and you cannot see his face, but he holds a large sword in his hands. His haori is white and appears to glow along with his hair.

“A Hashira, huh?” the Demon cackles. 

Your eyes widen at the demon's words. 

“H-Hashira…” you murmur, eyes glued to the tall man before you. You head of the demon slayers and the Hashira, but never would you have imagined being in the presence of one.

“Don’t just fucking stand there!” the Hashira barks, head turning slightly to the side. You follow his gaze to see a group of boys, all sporting black uniforms and holding their own swords. They are frozen behind a bush and all jump at the Hashira’s sudden bark. “Take the girl to Kocho!”

“Y-Yes, Shinazugawa-sama!” the group - 4 - of demon slayers say in unison. You witness them scurry off to you while the Hashira begins his battle with the Demon.

“You’re losing a lot of blood, miss.” one demon slayers moans sadly as he attempts to touch your wound. “C-Can you apply pressure to it while we get you to Shinobu-sama?”

You nod your head, but you feel dizzy suddenly. Maybe you had lost a decent amount of blood.

“Oh no.” another demon slayer quips. “She’s passing out. We have to leave now.”

Your eyes shot open, your shoulder being roughly shoved. You looked around your surroundings.

“Y/N.”

Your head snaps to the side, eyes widening. 

“Onii-san…” your voice is high pitched and childlike. Your eyes drift to your lower appearance and child-like hands. 

You then roam your eyes around the bedroom - the one you shared with your elder brother. It’s bright - the morning sun shining through the windows.

“W-what-”

“You overslept.” your brother flicks your forehead, an act you always hated but you could do nothing savor his touch.

Was this a dream?

Was this heaven? Had you succumbed to your wounds and died?

“Y/N…why are you crying?” your brother's voice is startled, wondering if he had flicked you too hard this time. He yelps when you crush your face into his yukata and continue to cry, tiny hands clutching onto him for dear life. “What’s wrong?”

“I…had a bad dream, Onii-san.” you sniffled after a few moments of your crying. 

Your brother’s eyes soften and he places a hand on the top of your head. “Baby.” he murmurs softly to you. “Go wash up and then meet me outside. I have something I want to show you.”

You do as you’re told, far too excited to see your brother again.

As your feet slap against the cold hardwood floor, your heart is pumping again to be reunited with your family. 

Your hands reach the shoji doors, ready to open it, the shining sun from inside your bedroom suddenly disappears and all that you are left with is the familiar shining moon light.

“Y/N, don’t-” your brother screams - he appears to be far away, so distant that you ponder if he’s in the same room as you.

What’s going on? The door slams open and your eyes widen. The tall monster - you remember now. Tentacles sway around him. His skin was a disgusting green and his claws clenched onto your mother’s kimono. She’s lifeless, covered in blood. 

A tentacle reaches out to swipe at you, but your brother flings himself in front of you - but he’s nothing but a child such as you. He slams into the nearest wall, body just as lifeless as your mothers. Blood pools from his wounds and you can do nothing but scream at the sight.

You release a sudden scream, thrashing at the hands gripping onto you. “No!” you choke out a whimper.

“Calm down.” the voice says - stern but sweet. “You’re alright.”

You’re alright.

Your eyes manage to blink until they focus on where you were at. You’re on a bed foreign to you surrounded by several other beds that are vacant. The room is quiet except for a few people surrounding you, your eyes recognizing a few of the demon slayers you encountered. 

That was not a dream - you being attacked by a demon was indeed real.

Seated beside you was a young girl with blue eyes with black pigtails. She has a stern look in her eyes as she stares at you. 

“My name’s Aoi.” she tells you. “You were having a nightmare.”

You nod your head slowly. That part was also correct. You cannot remember the last time you dreamt of the night your brother and mother had died - until now.

“Where am I?” you whisper out before coughing. Your throat was dry and raspy.

“Here,” Aoi leans beside you to grasp a glass of water from the bedside table. “drink this.”

You do as you’re told, mentally thanking her when the cool water hits your throat. 

“Are you alright?”

You notice it's a demon slayer - a young man who’s eyes appeared to be glossy. “You passed out on the way here.”

You nod your head once more. “Thank you for bringing me.” you tell them and they each nod back, faces red. “If I may ask…where is the Hashira that saved me?”

Aoi sits straighter onto your bed, but the way her eyes roll does not go unnoticed. “Go get Shinazugawa.” she tells the slayers who all freeze at her command. “Now.”

The three slayers scurry off but appeared to be in no rush. Aoi turns back to you. “Just a warning.” she begins. “Shinazugawa isn’t…the nicest.”

You tilt your head. 

“He can be a little…rash.” Aoi shrugs her shoulders. “Are you in any pain? I managed to stitch up your wounds.”

You shake your head. “No. Thank you.” you bow your head. “You are a nurse? You look so young.”

Aoi’s face reddens. 

“I’m sorry. I meant no harm.” you attempted to apologize, unsure if you offended her or not. 

“It’s alright.” Aoi stands. “I do help around the butterfly estate more often while Shinobu-san is busy.” she explains. 

The door slams open and frightens the both of you. Aoi’s eyes darted to the noise and her eyes turned to slits. “You don’t have to be so abrasive, Shinazugawa-san.” she hisses. “I’m going to get you something to eat.” she says without as much of a look your way.

Shinazugawa only scoffs as the young girl pushes past him, closing the door behind her slightly. You noticed by his demeanor as to why the slayers were reluctant in calling for him - you guessed people walked on eggshells around the man.

Your heart flutters when his eyes meet yours.

The man is covered in scars, you note, and the amount is alarming. You assume it was due to him being a Hashira and his time in battle with demons.

“You look scared shitless.” Shinazugawa’s voice startles you.

Your body heats at the fact that you were staring. Your eyes dart away and you bow your head. “I’m sorry!” you quip. “I-I just wanted to thank you. For saving me.”

You note that he doesn’t say anything. Your eyes darted forward to see that he was now directly in front of you. Your heart skips a beat - Hashira’s were stealthy. 

“Why were you outside alone?” Shinazugawa questions. “Surely you know that demons exist.”

You gulp. He was correct. You did know and yet, you still left without a care in the world of your fate. “I…”

The Hashira waits for your response.

“I didn’t want to be home.”

The Hashira doesn’t make a sound for a moment. He studies your face before responding. “You left in the middle of the night in nothing but a kimono…because you didn’t want to be home?” his voice is deep and condescending. “You could have encountered far more harm besides a demon.” he spats. 

Your hands clench onto the bed sheets you were under.

“Why didn’t you want to be home? Your husband refused to buy you something?”

Your eyes widen. He was mocking you, surely. 

“That kimono is expensive no doubt. You must come from money.”The Hashira spats before shaking his head. “Just tell me where I need to bring you-”

“I’m not going back.” 

Shinazugawa’s eyes widened at your interruption.

“I do not come from money, either. The Kimono is a gift from the man my father sold me off to marry.” your tone matches his now. You wanted nothing more than to thank the man, not be judged about your decision to leave your home.

Sanemi is quiet, unsure of what to say. You shut him up, surely. He could only judge you by what you looked like - your hair wasn’t a mess when he found you and you wore a kimono crafted from the best materials. It wasn’t his fault and he wasn’t going to apologize for it, either.

“So your father is broke.” Sanemi states.

“No.” you scoff. “He just doesn’t want me around him anymore. I should be honored to be married off to someone his age.” You say sarcastically. You do not realize you’re clenching the bed sheets until you release them, witnessing how wrinkled they become. “Sometimes I even think he wishes it was me that died by that demon instead of my brother.”

Sanemi’s ears perk, but he doesn’t say anything in response.

“He was sure to tell me each time he was drunk that he only wanted a son. It was my mother that wanted to have another child in hopes of a daughter.” you laugh low to yourself. You’re talking to yourself more than you are to the Hashira. “To think he lost his prized child and wife.”

Now Sanemi was feeling guilty, even if he wasn’t going to show it or apologize. It appears you had a shitty life with your father and he can only think of back many moons ago of his own disappointment of a father. 

“Sorry.” you murmur to the Hashira. “Got carried away.” you straightened yourself to look at him once more. “Thank you again. I know slaying demons is your job, but you could have left me there. I am forever grateful.”

Sanemi doesn’t realize it until it’s too late. His neck is hot and so are his ears. If he would look at his reflection, he’d see that his face is red. “Don’t thank me.” he murmurs with a gulp. “Where are you planning to go?”

You’re unsure of the answer yourself. There was nowhere for you to go. You had no relatives and going back to your father now was possibly the worst decision to do - you’re positive his wrath would be hellish. 

“A few years ago at the age of 15,” you began. “My father said that I could always be a prostitute and maybe work my way up to be an Oiran.” you begin to laugh and Sanemi couldn’t believe his ears. Were you seriously laughing at the harsh words spewed at you by your father? “He was drunk and upset.”

“Sounds like an asshole.” Sanemi states. 

You sigh, smile from your laughter still on your lips. “He was.” you agree. “I cannot hate him for it. To answer your question, Shinazugawa-san-”

“Sanemi.”

You furrow a brow at the Hashira. 

“I’m not one for honorifics.” 

You nod your head. “Sanemi.” you hum. “I’m not sure where I am planning on going. However, I’m sure wherever that is it will be better than my fate chosen by my father.”

Sanemi grunts. You appear to be courageous in a way, not caring what the world dropped at your feet as long as it wasn’t anything worse than your chosen fate.  

“Why not become a demon slayer?”

You giggle. “I don’t even know how to throw a punch, Sanemi.” your eyelashes bash at him and again, he feels hot. “I would be useless.”

“You can always train.” Sanemi suggests. 

You hum. “I suppose you’re correct. But I don’t know anyone willing to train me.”

A knock sounds on the door before it slides open. Aoi walks through with a tray, a plate of soup placed on it. 

“This should be light on your stomach.” Aoi tells you once she places the tray on the bedside table. “Shinazugawa-san, would you like anything?” she says to him through gritted teeth. She was only being polite and didn’t wish to hand him anything.

“No.” is all Sanemi responds with and Aoi only shrugs.

“I’ll be back in a half an hour to check in on you.” Aoi says and retreats once more. 

Your stomach churns at the aroma of the soup. You’re unsure how long it’s been since you ate and you were starving. You grasp the tray and do not hesitate to dig in. 

“I can train you.”

Sanemi only stands and watches the first ten minutes of you eating silently before he does speak. It catches you by surprise.

“Oh?”

“Would you rather be a prostitute?” Sanemi spats harshly. “Having different types of men on top of you at that. For that you could’ve married the man who paid your father.”

You aren’t fazed by his tone nor his words, your father has trained you for this since you were a child - bellowing insults after insults.

Your lips twitch. 

“I wouldn’t mind it if they were as handsome as you.” you tease the Hashira and now he’s taken aback, face fully flushed and his fists clenched. You giggle to yourself. “Just kidding, Sanemi. I wouldn’t be a good prostitute, either. I have no experience.” you take another sip of your soup and all Sanemi could think of was your last words.. “I would be honored to train with you.”

Sanemi gives you one last look before turning away. “I’ll talk to Kocho about you being released.. Until then, rest up.”

Sanemi slides the shoji doors open and walks out, not turning to look back at you. 

“Well,” Sanemi speaks. “come at me.”

You do, hands raising the wooden sword in your hand. You’re trembling as you run towards him and Sanemi wants to laugh at the way you look. He does nothing but step to the side and watch as you fall onto your face.

“That was pathetic.”

You gulp. “I know.”

“Get up.” Sanemi demands. “You’re entirely too slow.”

You were released the following day and like promised, Sanemi had returned. He doesn’t say anything but motions you to follow him to his home - a large estate not far from the one you just came from. You were given a change of clothes - a black uniform-like bodysuit that fit you slightly loose. You were surprised to receive the haori that matched the one Sanemi wore, you even beamed and stated that you fit the aesthetic to be trained under him - he only grunted a response. 

Sanemi wasted no time in jumping into training. He gave you a wooden sword and gave you little instructions on what to do. 

“For fucks sake!” Sanemi hissed after he watched you run - if you can call it that - towards one end of his training compound to the other. “Have you ever run a day in your life?!”

You pout. “Not since my brother died. That was nearly a decade ago.”

Sanemi groans. He wasn’t sure what he expected training you. This is why he never had the desire to train anyone and why he doesn’t have a tsuguko. 

“You’ll need to gain stamina.” Sanemi groans. He was sure you would need that before he even teaches you about total concentration. 

You groan along with Sanemi. 

“I know just the person.”

You follow Sanemi as he leaves his estate, but he doesn’t bother to wait for you. He’s a few feet ahead of you now and you’re trying with all your will to not be left behind. 

You reach another estate, your legs burned with the amount of walking. Sanemi reaches the shoji doors and knocks a few times, impatiently tapping his foot against the wooden floors.

“Shinazugawa!” the door slams open, startling you. A large man makes his way out from behind the door and your eyes widen at the height.

“Uzui.”

Uzui is tall, you note, and beautiful. His eyes are a beautiful color of fuchsia and his hair is just as white as Sanemi’s. He offers a dazzling smile before turning to you. 

“My,” Uzui hums. “Who is this woman with you?” The man's eyes inspect you for a moment. He even goes as far as to walk around to give you a once over. His arm reaches out quickly and before you can react, the palm of his hand - rather large - slaps your butt. “She has child bearing hips. Very breedable.”

You yelp, completely taken aback by his bold statement plus the rough slap upon your ass. All Sanemi could do was hiss at the older man. 

“Stop being a fucking creep!” Sanemi roars, hands clenched into fists.

Uzui only chuckles, painted nails pointing at Sanemi’s angered expression. “Do you want me to slap yours too?”

Sanemi isn’t amused in the slightest with Uzui’s humor and takes a step forward. The tall man erupts in laughter, raising his hands. 

“It’s about time you found yourself a wife, Shinazugawa.” Uzui’s eyes flashes to you for a moment before darting back to Sanemi. “Someone that can calm you down when needed.” Uzui wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, a knowing smirk forming onto his lips.

Sanemi scowls deeper, tips of his ears red. Tengen, being older than him, always had an immature side to him, always joking around at the wrong time - especially with his sexual humor. Surprisingly, it was tame. 

“I’m training her.” Sanemi hisses through gritted teeth. “She needs to work on her stamina.”

Tengen raises a brow. “So this is not your wife?”

Sanemi wants to reply with a snide remark, but refrains. 

“You always said you never wanted a tsuguko. What changed?” Tengen asks. Sanemi is a stubborn person. A few slayers - those who weren’t as cowardly - asked to be his tsuguko and he had rejected them harshly, what made you different?

Sanemi doesn’t respond, but Tengen believes he doesn’t have to. You appeared weak, not an insult in the slightest. A regular civilian and not a fighter at all. You could have dodged his slap onto your ass if you were at least a slayer.

Maybe Sanemi was but a man. You weren’t bad to look at - cute face, nice body and even nicer assets. Your breast could surely feed to satiate  any child Sanemi could put into you no doubt. 

“Stamina assistance, huh?” Tengen hums. “Have you tried sex?”

Your body feels hot once more. Uzui was the obvious joker of the two.

“Uzui-”

“So unflashy.” Tengen rolls his eyes. Sanemi was never any fun. “By the looks of it, she doesn’t run a lot.”

Did he call you fat? Unhealthy?

“I can change that in a week.” Uzui smirks at Sanemi. “Imagine going from a regular civilian to training with Hashira without even passing final selection first? You’ve been blessed by a God - me.”

You find Uzui’s personality funny - when he wasn’t spewing sexual nonsense for shock value.

“You are a Hashira, as well?” you ask Uzui and he nods.

“Sound Hashira, Uzui Tengen.” the smirk that forms onto his lips is one of vain. “Leave her to me, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi scoffs. “I’ll stay.” he insists. You didn’t know Uzui. Though he had three wives of his own, Uzui was not one to not flirt. He was a touchy person and to the wrong people, it could come off as harassment. 

Uzui pushes past the two of you and back into his home. He slides the shoji door open wider for the two of you to enter. “I'm not going to steal your girl.” he snickers. “Though I’m not opposed to having a fourth wife. You would fit right in-”

Sanemi shoves Tengen who then chuckles at the wind Hashira’s reaction.

There were only a few instances in your life where you’d thought you’d die. When you were a child and witnessed the monster - you soon learned was a demon - was the first. Again when you meet the wind Hashira facing another demon, you were certain you’d die.

Now, as you run until the point of your legs aching, you’re sure that you can see your life flashing before your eyes. Tengen was serious when he stated he’d whip you into shape to improve your stamina. It took everything in you to not cry due to stress - Uzui was a tough one. He’d scream and yell at you to keep going, that it was unflashy for you to be heavily breathing and sweaty only after running around his estate 3 times.

You were utterly defeated when Uzui finally gave you a break. Your knees fall to the ground and you wish nothing more than to curl up and die. Every morning the past 2 weeks you’d wake, have a quick breakfast with Sanemi where both of you are in a comfortable silence and then you'd go out for the hellish stamina training.

“You must be exhausted.”

You’re unsure how long you managed to lay onto the ground, but when your eyes flutter open you note that the sun is beginning to set. 

“Here, have some water.” the voice belongs to Suma, a wife of Tengen. She kneels down beside you with a warm smile and hands you a glass filled with water. “Lord Tengen sure has been determined lately.”

You gulp down the glass of water effortlessly in three large gulps. “Thank you!” you wheeze. 

Suma giggles.

“How determined is Lord Tengen?” you ask her.

Suma tilts her head slightly. “He believes you are done with the first half of your training!”

Your eyes widen and now your energy - though tired - matches Suma’s. You clap your hands together and laugh.

“You can move on to combat now!” Suma exclaims.

Your head tilts. “Combat…?”

“You didn’t think all you’d be doing is running?”

You yelp at the sound of Uzui’s voice. You never got accustomed to his sudden arrivals - but he assured you many times that not only was he a Hashira or a God - but was also a former shinobi. You never questioned him or his over dramatic self-proclamations. 

“No…?”

Uzui doesn’t say anything behind you. You take note that he was dressed down in a nemaki, a bright blue one with black stripes and his hair surrounds his shoulders. Your eyes widen slightly in awe - he was so majestically beautiful. 

Uzui kneels down to where you sat just as Suma rises. His lips form a small grin. 

“You are doing good.” Uzui compliments with a slight pat of your head. “You’ll be done with your training in due time.”

Your eyes widen, face feeling warm. You nod your head curtly. “Thank you, Lord Uzui!” you’re unsure why your cheeks feel wet until you feel a calloused finger wipe at your cheek. You were crying - in joy, of course. You’re unsure why; maybe because you’re not in the same place you were at when you came with Sanemi. You were (slowly) growing into a better person and the feelings are overwhelming.

“Ahh, don’t cry!” Suma sniffles with a shake of her head. “You’re going to make me cry!”

Suma drops and wraps you in a tight hug. “Please join us at the Onsen! You’ve been working so hard you should relax!”

Uzui watches as you and Suma scurry off - you with a slight limp - off towards his home. He shakes his head and ponders just how you managed to get caught up with someone such as Sanemi - yet it wasn’t his place to ask questions.

Your back hits the stone rock at the onsen, head tilted to the side as you sigh deeply. Your body now felt relaxed due to the hot water of the onsen. Suma had brought you into the home for dinner and before the hot springs, you were allowed to shower off the day's work and even borrowed a nemaki from Suma. 

You can hear Uzui’s loud voice followed by the soft ones of Makio and Hinatsuru. You had to admit that once you found out about his three wives, you were shocked. Yet, it made sense. There was no doubt Uzui was an extremely attractive man with an insane sex appeal - not only that but also a Hashira. His wives were kind women who matched Uzui’s attractiveness and sex appeal - flashy, as he would say. They often ask you to stay for dinner once training was done or offer you water while Uzui insisted you run “one more lap” which turned to 10 more laps.

“How does your body feel, Y/N?”

You flinched, eyes snapping open. You were dozing off. 

“Ah,” you smile at Suma. “alright. So much better than before.”

Suma nods her head. “I’m glad. You’ve been working so hard!”

Your face feels hot.

“Y/N!” Uzui’s boisterous voice booms through your ears. “You’re looking as flashy as ever! A different look from the sweat that you’re usually covered in.”

Uzui was teasing you.

“Lord Tengen says you’ll be training with us tomorrow.” Makio says. She’s leaning against Uzui’s right while Hinatsuru occupies his left. 

“Ah, yes.” you nod. “Combat training, right?”

Hinatsuru nods.

“I’m not much of a fighter.” your face grows hot once more. You’re embarrassed to be in the presence of kunoichi and a Hashira - three good fighters and a swordsman. 

“Neither am I!” Suma wraps you into a hug once more, bare breast against your own. You yelp, flushing deeply, but you know Suma means no harm. 

Uzui watches Suma and you closely, both of you giggling amongst one another. Soon Makio and Hinatsuru enter the conversation and leave his side.Uzui finds himself watching fondly on just how welcomed you became with his wives. How in the world did someone like Shinazugawa enter your life - Uzui was unsure. However, whatever the man's intentions were (outside of training you) he hoped they were pure.

A month had passed and Sanemi was beginning to think you lived at Uzui’s home. You’d usually come at the end of each day to bathe, eat dinner with him and then head to bed. Now, he found himself eating alone and your bedroom being empty. 

Of course, Sanemi was not fazed by this. You were doing what you were told, after all. By what Uzui has told him about your progress, you were doing good. His wives enjoyed your company as you did theirs.

However, what Sanemi was not expecting was your change in attire. He accepted the invitation for Uzui to watch you train with low ranking demon slayers. You were dressed similar to his wives, short, sleeveless dress with white bandages wrapping around your thighs. His eyes find themselves  landing on your breast and he coughs.

“She looks different.” Sanemi says aloud besides Tengen, who snorts at the man's observation.

“She looks flashy now.” Tengen declares.”Truly a work of art.”

The necklace you wore around your neck also didn’t go unnoticed. It was large and gold and also covered in shining diamonds and other unnamed stones he couldn’t bother to mesmerize. If Sanemi didn’t know who you were, he would assume you were also a part of Uzui’s haram.

“You were instructed to train her in stamina. Not play dress up.”

Tengen rolls his eyes at the sound of Sanemi’s voice.

“Look at her now.” Tengen points a manicured finger at you, but Sanemi is already watching. 

Sanemi supposed you were better now. You ran without appearing to be seconds away from dying, nor were you as slow as you were nearly two months ago. He had watched slightly impressed that you managed to keep your own up against the low ranks - impressive seeing as you were not yet a slayer. 

“What are your intentions with her?”

Sanemi’s eyes don't leave you as he ponders on Uzui’s question. 

“Surely she’s more than a tsuguko.”

Sanemi makes an annoyed grunt.

“She lives in your home when you wouldn’t even allow others.” Uzui doesn’t want to mention Genya to not upset the younger man. But, it’s obvious that is who he is speaking of. It causes Sanemi’s fist to instantly clench.

“She had nowhere else to go.” Sanemi began.

Uzui furrows a brow. 

“She joked about becoming a prostitute.”

Uzui chuckles. “Virgin’s can be sold for high.”

Sanemi’s head snapped to eye the white haired man. Just how did he know that you were a virgin?

“She speaks of you fondly.” Uzui says after another few moments of silence. “Hina swears she has a crush. How unflashy of her to have one on someone like you.”

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?!” Sanemi roars.

Your attack at the slayer stops upon hearing the scream. Your body turns behind you, witnessing a laughing Uzui and a fuming Sanemi. Your eyes widen, not expecting to see him. You had focused all of your time on training that you would often stay at Uzui’s estate.

“Shinazugawa-sama is here.” one slayer moans in despair. “I should hide.”

“What for?” asks another slayer.

“I accidentally bumped into him yesterday and he threatened to castrate me!” the slayers voice drops a few octovals. 

“Sanemi!” you begin to wave, dropping your kunai and begin to sprint towards the man. 

“Did she just call Shinazugawa-sama by his name?” one slayer gasps, fearing for your life. 

“Is that his girlfriend?”

“No way, no way no way!” another slayer falls to the ground. “There’s no way someone cute and sweet like Y/N-chan is dating that psycho!” he shakes his head.

You reach Sanemi and Uzui in a matter of seconds - it causes Sanemi to take a step back, but he keeps his face cool and unbothered. Your hands take his calloused ones and you’re excited for him to see the progress you made. Gasps could be heard from the slayers behind you, and besides Sanemi, Uzui is humming with a shit eating grin.

“They do say opposites attract.” a female slayer murmurs.

“Is…Shinazugawa-sama blushing?”

Sanemi’s ear twitched. His head snaps behind you, hands still in your smaller (and softer) hands. “What the fuck are you waste of space doing?!” he barks at the slayers who all cower. The veins on his neck are pulsing as he screams. “Get out of my sight!” the slayers bow, sending Uzui their farewell before running out of the estate, not looking back now fearing their own safety and well-being. 

“How long have you been here?” you ask. “Did you see me sparring with one of the slayers? Do you think I got better? Faster? Stronger?” you’re overly excited, so much so that you’re slightly bouncing with excitement. Sanemi’s eyes couldn’t help but flicker to your breast to the hopeful look of your eyes. 

Uzui watches with a look of amusement. The tips of Sanemi’s ears are red and he wants to tell a perverted joke, but he understands now is not the time.

You reminded him of Suma often. You wanted to be praised - to be told you did a good job and that he was proud of you. But, Sanemi didn’t believe in praise. He was an abrasive person and reveled in such abrasiveness. He’s watched countless times as Sanemi verbally (and physically) abused slayers - even the Hashira wasn’t safe from his wrath.

“Y-Yeah.” is all Sanemi said and now Uzui’s head is spinning. 

Did Shinazugawa Sanemi stutter?

Was the Shinazuawa Sanemi flustered?

A knowing smirk forms on the older man's lips and now he’s pondering on all the ways he could bring up this moment to never let the wind Hashira live this down.

“Don’t say shit to me.” Sanemi hisses to Uzui when you sprint away, declaring that you were going to gather your belongings before leaving Uzui’s estate with him. 

Tengen cackles loudly.

“I haven’t been to Asakusa in years.” you say to Sanemi. “Do you frequent here on your missions?” Sanemi nods, tying his yukata to hide his sword. “Similar to today. A few of us are patrolling the grounds to assure there aren't any demon attacks tonight.”

There was a festival today, after all. Sumidagawa firework festivals were one of your favorites to witness. You recall being on your fathers shoulders as you watch the colorful firework display. That was many moons ago, and now as Sanemi and you stroll through the streets of Asakusa, you are feeling nostalgic. 

“Do you think a demon will attack tonight?” you asked Sanemi. You hoped they didn’t - the sight of innocent families and couples litter the streets of Asakusa and that would ultimately be ruined by such demonic attacks. 

“Possibly not out in the open, no.” Sanemi responds. “But we can’t be off our guard, either. We have slayers to assure no one wanders away from the main road.” Sanemi recalls the story of Tanjiro coming face to face with Muzan right in Asakusa - he’s certain that Muzan would allow himself not to be shown again.

Your head lowers slightly. 

“The fireworks should be starting soon.” Sanemi notes. “I’m going to patrol the south of Asakusa. Stay here, I’ll be back shortly.” he stops walking to face you and you slowly nod your head. “Something on your mind?”

You shake your head, not wanting to bother Sanemi with your useless thoughts.

Sanemi doesn’t say another word before turning away. Your eyes follow his figure until he fades into the crowd and only then did you bother to look up into the dark sky at the fireworks beginning. All you could think about was watching the fireworks with him. 

“Where’s your girl?” asked Uzui as Sanemi strolls past. “I got eyes on the south of Asakusa.”

Sanemi scowls. “I’ll go east.”

“East is taken by Iguro and Kanroji.” Uzui furrows a brow. “I spotted Tomioka and Kocho going west not too long ago.”

Sanemi stops in his tracks. 

“There won’t be any attacks tonight.” Uzui is certain. “Not with this many hashira present.”

Uzui scours the crowd around him. “Don’t tell me you left your girl all alone?”

Sanemi’s eyes glare at Uzui, but the taller man isn’t fazed.

Uzui crosses his arms. “To think she got all dressed up….” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have left such a flashy beauty-”

“Shut up!” Sanemi hisses and now he’s heading back north where he told you to remain.

Uzui hums. He enjoys teasing Shinazugawa until his eyes are even more crazed and his cheeks are a dusty crimson color. It only affects him when he mentions you - so much so now that Sanemi would rather flee the scene than to fight him like he’d usually do.

Sanemi slows his pace when he reaches closer to you. He takes in the sight of you - kimono wrapped tightly around your frame.It was black and silk and he notes the stitching of pink sakura leaves.

The light of the fireworks are illuminating upon your skin, casting down a colorful hue. There’s a faint grin upon your lips - covered in gloss, it does not go unnoticed by him. 

You do not notice Sanemi until he’s right next to you. You turn to smile at him but don’t manage to. “Is…everything okay?”

Sanemi doesn’t respond and now you’re worried. “Sanemi-”

“Are you having fun?”

You’re taken aback by his question. “Yes.” you tell him. “It’s so beautiful!”

Your eyes turn back to the firework display in the sky, but Sanemi’s eyes remain on you. Beautiful.

You were beautiful.

Sanemi’s heart jumps at the sight of you - was he sick? He was sure he was starting to feel ill. Maybe he’d have to visit Kocho when they met up later and see if she had any medication on hand. 

The firework display goes on for another half an hour until it’s done. The night sky is filled with smoke and the surrounding people are all chatting amongst themselves. Those with families are scurrying off with their fussy children. You recall when you were once a fussy child begging your parents to stay longer.

Meeting the rest of the Hashira wasn’t something you’d thought you’d do. Meeting two was an honor - but all? Your heart jumps at the sight before you. You had accompanied Sanemi to a dinner the Hashira were having to celebrate a successful night free of demons. 

Mitsuri was the first Hashira you were introduced to. She introduced herself mostly and then the rest of the Hashira to you in order in which they were seated - Iguro, Rengoku, Kocho, Tomioka, Himejima and Tokito. The sight of a young boy catches you off guard, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered with anything around him besides staring off into space.

Since you weren’t much of a drinker, you opted in eating more food with Mitsuri while those who did drink mingled with one another. 

“Why aren’t you drinking?” Uzui asks, lifting his own shot glass and takes a swig.

Sanemi wasn’t a drinker.

“Can’t handle it?” Tengen chuckles mockingly. “Fight all those demons just to be scared of a little alcohol?”

Sanemi’s hands grasp the glass from Uzui’s hand after he fills it with another shot. He down said alcohol effortlessly. 

“Well well,” Uzui cackles aloud. “Look at the big shot.”

As the night dragged further on, you noticed that most of the Hashira were beginning to bid their farewell. Shinobu and Giyu were the first to leave, Giyu suddenly standing and an annoyed Shinobu trailing after him. Gyomei and Muichiro followed soon after, the younger boy not saying a word while Gyomei wished everyone a good night. Obanai stood only when he noticed Mitsuri did so, bidding you a goodbye and claiming that she wished to see you soon. Kyojuro watches with amusement as Tengan and Sanemi appear to be in a fierce drinking battle, both men refusing to back down.

“Excuse me.” you announce lowly, standing from your cushioned spot.

Uzui’s eyes follow you to the restroom before turning back to a fuming Sanemi. A knowing smirk forms onto his lips and Kyojuro is sure that he was going to have to break up whatever fight would break out. 

“Y/N-chan is beautiful.” Tengen says, downing another shot. “Such a flashy kimono she’s wearing. Right, Kyo?”

Kyojuro’s head stirred with the question, but he nodded his head nonetheless. “Yes. Y/N-chan does look beautiful tonight!”

“I-”

“Shut up!” Sanemi doesn’t want to hear anything else Tengen has to say. 

“Such an un-flamboyant response.” Tengen shrugs. “I believe she smells nice, too. Like…lavender. Maybe Jasmine.”

Kyojuro watches the way Sanemi’s hands clench the shot glass as he chugs it down. 

“Why you smellin’ her?!” Sanemi hisses, eyes glaring daggers at the Sound Hashira. “Fucking pervert.” he murmurs to himself. 

Tengan enjoyed being an agent of chaos, so much so that he thought ahead of time. Just as you were returning to the table, Uzui stood. “We have an early start back to headquarters tomorrow,” he announces. “We should be going to bed.”

Kyojuro also stands and wraps an arm around Tengan.

“Oyakata-sama covered the rooms for us tonight.” Kyojuro says back to you and Sanemi. “Tomorrow we’ll be heading out, so please get enough rest!”

Sanemi doesn’t say a word, just stands. His body sways a little and you’re surprised to see him stumbling. “Are you alright, Sanemi?” you asked with caution. “You’re-”

“I’m fine.”

But Sanemi doesn’t appear fine. It takes another 20 minutes to get back to the inn that was provided for the Hashira and yourself. 

“Shinazugawa.” Sanemi grumbles to the owner. 

“That room was taken about 10 minutes ago.” the worker hums. “The only room we have left is for…Uzui Tengen.”

Sanemi’s fist clench and he bangs it against the counter. The owner yelps, eyes widening and he’s flinching away from the man. “That fucker took my room!”

“S-Sanemi!” you place your hands onto his bicep, attempting to stop his assault on the counter. “Let’s just takes Uzui’s room. It can’t be that bad.”

Sanemi’s skin is burning under your touch, but he doesn’t push your hands away.

It was bad, Sanemi knows it. Oyakata-sama knows of you and your situation and before Sanemi heads out for Asakusa with you, Oyakata assured that there will be two beds for you and Sanemi.

However, Tengen had planned this. He left in a hurry so he could get Sanemi’s room where one bed would be free while you and he took Uzui’s room - one king size bed sitting right in the middle of the room. 

“I should bang that door down.” Sanemi grumbles lowly to himself, slamming the door shut behind him. “Drag his ass out of my room…castrate him while I got the chance and-”

“You can have the bed, Sanemi.”

Sanemi’s grumblings halt once he hears your voice. 

“You’re a Hashira, after all.” your voice is soft and sweet, it does something to his heart once more. Sanemi has to see Kocho tomorrow morning for sure now. 

Sanemi shakes his head, but soon regrets it. He was becoming dizzy and now he sits upon said bed. “I…you can take the bed.”

“Hm,” you hum. “We can share the bed. You can take the right and me the left.” you suggest and now Sanemi feels claustrophobic. He’s never shared a bed with a woman - not even the ones he was intimate with. They were nothing but stress relievers, after all. 

But, Sanemi doesn’t deny. He loosens his yukata and falls onto the mountain of pillows. His eyes close and now you’re giggling to yourself. He was asleep already, the drinking fest (or competition) with Uzui took a toll on him.

You dim the lights and make your way around to your side of the bed. You, too, loosen your kimono and allow yourself underneath the covers. You cover Sanemi, who stirs slightly but doesn’t say anything. 

Just as you feel yourself dozing off of consciousness, Sanemi’s voice catches your ear. 

“Y/N.”

“Huh?” you turn your body around to face him. The window sat open across from the bed and the moon shines right through the window and onto Sanemi’s face.

“You smell nice.” Sanemi murmurs, swallowing thickly. His mind is swirling with the amount of alcohol in his system. “Like…lavender…and jasmine…” he inhales, nostrils blaring to catch your scent.

Your cheeks are hot at his compliment. Unknowingly, you scoot closer to him.

Sanemi allows his eyes to close for a mere second before opening them once more.

“Y/N.” he calls you again and now he’s slowly rising.

“Yes, San-”

Sanemi erupts in a fit of coughs. You rise from your position from the bed and come closer to help. “Do you need to throw up?” you asked with wide eyes.

Sanemi shakes his head. His coughing stopped but he can feel your hand upon his back, gently rubbing,

“You’re beautiful.” Sanemi murmurs so low that it’s inaudible to you.

“What, Sanemi?” you come closer attempting to hear his words and Sanemi feels even more intoxicated with your scent.

Sanemi is strong. Within a few seconds you’re beneath him in a tight embrace.His actions catch you off guard, but yet you do not feel frightened by his sudden action. Lilac eyes stared into your wide ones.

“Are you afraid of me?” Sanemi’s words are slurred.

You should be scared of him, he tells himself. He was a man that could hurt you - take advantage of you. How easily it was for him to do so even intoxicated proves that you would be frightened-

“No.”

Sanemi freezes. No?

“I don’t believe you’ll hurt me intentionally.” you continue.

Sanemi is stiff, your words replaying in his mind. You weren’t frightened of him - not of his appearance, not of his personality or demeanor. 

Sanemi again feels the jump in his heart, reaching all the way down to his stomach to his abdomen. If he didn’t find a cure to whatever upcoming sickness he had, he’d surely fall out. 

Sanemi buries his face into your breast - that had slightly spilled out when he embraced you suddenly. You do not move, unsure of what to do. Sanemi slowly rubs his face against your breast and when he’s done, he lays his head against them and releases a sigh.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” he murmurs just when his eyes feel heavy. “I think I’m sick.”

Sanemi felt warm all over, but he didn’t appear to be sick. His face is flushed and you’ve already concluded that it was the alcohol taking over. 

“My heart…jumps when I’m with you. I think I’m dying.” he murmurs again. Your breathing hitches. “I can’t die…can’t leave Genya…” Sanemi’s babbling now and he doesn’t stop, not until his words become low gibberish and you note that his breathing evens out.

Your eyes snap open, body jolting awake. The sun was rising, the reddish hue shining through your window. Your body was now feeling as though you were being squeezed to death. 

You were - being squeezed that was - by Sanemi. His eyes are snapped shut but you can hear the faint sounds of whimpering coming from his lips.

“Sanemi…?” you murmur, managing to get your arm out from his embrace. He was still asleep, you took note that he must be having a nightmare. 

Your hand gently touches his hair, the white tresses feeling oddly soft at the touch. You recall the many times your older brother had comforted you from your own nightmares - gently rubbing your head and offering a soft hum.

The sight was truly something else. You would often accompany Sanemi when he was training other slayers (whenever he had the time) and harsh was an understatement. He was verbally abusive towards them, hurling out insults after insults. He’d beat them until they were a sobbing, puking mess - and that was just the light work. 

His job as a Hashira left him oftentimes returning to his estate with new scars that you’d tend to - even if you insisted Aoi or anyone else at the butterfly mansion would be better suited.

A nightmare didn’t appear to be something someone like Sanemi dealt with - but having to risk your life fighting demons on the daily possibly took a toll on him. You never spoke with Sanemi about his own past or family - who was Genya? How and why did he become a part of the Corps? You felt like he knew so much of you and you didn’t know him at all.

You begin to hum softly while stroking Sanemi’s hair. Through time, Sanemi’s whimpering halted and his embrace became looser - yet you couldn’t leave it fully for he would just tighten it again. You remained stroking his hair until you yourself was dozing off, moments from losing consciousness.

Sanemi’s hums, his closed eyes twitching when an annoying light hit him. The sun was rising and the pounding in his head annoyed him to no end. He snuggles himself deeper into the pillows, inhaling the sweet scent…

Of lavender…and jasmine…maybe even vanilla?

Sanemi’s body stirs away before his eyes can open. He feels a movement below him.and only then did his head remove themselves from the soft pillows.

Just for them to not be pillows - but your breast.

The silk kimono you wore is clenched tightly into his hands - that had you locked in a tight embrace.

“Sanemi…” your voice is softer when you’re just waking. “...are you alright?”

Was he alright? How could you be thinking of him when you were being suffocated beneath him.

Sanemi lungs himself away from you as if you burned him. The loss of his warmth causes a shiver to run up your exposed skin.

“Did I hurt you?” Sanemi’s voice is deep and raspy - dry. His eyes are wide with shock.

Your face is warm by his words. “No. You just…passed out.” you giggle, unsure of what the man remembers or not. “...I couldn’t really move you myself.”

Sanemi inhales. “Why didn’t you…pull my hair or punch me?” he questions and now it’s your turn to give him wide eyes. 

“Why would I do that?” you respond. “You were drunk and tired. I don’t mind it.”

Sanemi scratches his hair and swallows. He shakes his head. He didn’t have time for this - not now. He was a normal man with normal needs, but the last thing he needed was his pants to tighten, especially at the sight of your exposed skin.

“You were having a nightmare.” you sit up against the large bed. “I hope you are feeling well now.”

The soft touches of his hair and the sweet humming wasn’t a part of his dreams then.

Sanemi inhales once more. 

“Maybe some tea would be good for you. Does your head hurt?”

Sanemi doesn’t get to respond before you’re getting up from the bed. 

“I’ll go get you some.” you murmur, making your way into the bathroom to freshen up before leaving out of the bedroom all together.

Sanemi makes it his mission to take a cold shower while you’re out - anything to get the release of his swelling cock to go down. The water shocks him, but it doesn’t do anything. He curses at himself for allowing Uzui - that fucking Uzui - to get him drunk. He was even more pissed at himself for falling for the bait - but not only that, but to get so out of his mind that he woke up…

Sanemi decides to grip his cock tightly. His boner was never going to go down unless he did something about it. He closes his eyes, trying to think of anything but you. His arms begin to jerk and now he’s erratically pumping his cock. His closed eyes begin to think of the many women he’s been with in the past, but his mind keeps drifting back to you. He swears he can smell your scent surrounding him at this moment. He thinks of how soft your skin is - especially your breast. It causes his breath to hitch at the thought of his hands being able to-

Sanemi cums hard - so hard he’s twitching. “Fuck.” he hisses to himself. He was utterly fucked.

“We’ll be heading out soon!” Kyojuro says loudly to the surrounding demon slayers. “Please be prepared!”

The demon slayers all agree in unison. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Kyojuro’s boisterous voice echoes off of the wall as you enter the main room of the inn. “Good morning!”

“Ah, good morning, Rengoku-san.” you offer a small smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept great!” Kyojuro chuckles.

“How about you, Y/N? Did you and Shinazugawa sleep well?” Uzui asks, a knowing smirk on his lips. 

“Her and Shinazugawa?” one slayer murmurs.  

“The rumors are true?”

“Wait, what rumors?” “That Shinazugawa-sama has a girlfriend!”

“No way, that’s her?!” one slayer falls to his knees. “She’s so hot!”

“Yes, Uzui-san. We did.” you beam at him. “Your bed was quite large.”

“They slept in the same bed?!”

“How can she not be scared of that maniac?”

“I’m glad.” Uzui beams back. “Where is Shinazugawa?”

“Back in the room. I’ve come to make him some tea.” you respond. The inn provided breakfast, lunch and dinner that was complimentary. In the main room, various tea bags are displayed alongside a large tea kettle set on a low boiling temperature. 

“Did you wake with a headache, Uzui-san? I can get you some tea, as well.”

Uzui follows you to the tea kettle where you make Sanemi’s tea. “I woke up just fine.” Uzui says. “You do look like you got just the right amount of sleep. Your face looks so hydrated.” Tengen was hoping he’d walk into you and Sanemi was sweaty with bed hair and maybe even bruises - but he’s glad nonetheless that you still looked flashy.

“No way Shinazugawa-san deserves her!” a slayer hisses. “That white hair maniac-”

The slayer feels the wind being knocked out of him. He falls to the ground before he can even finish his sentence. 

Sanemi, eyes glaring deadly, pushes past the boy without a care. The room gets quiet and the slayers are far too frightened to even speak in front of the wind Hashira.

“Shinazugawa.” Uzui waves, but Sanemi’s looks can kill. “It looks like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” he jokes.

Sanemi wants to hurl insults - and punches - at the sound Hashira. He’s sporting a knowing smirk, eyes shining with mischief. Tengen knows what he’s done and he wants to rub it in the younger man's face. Sanemi was going to give him the reaction he was looking for. 

“Sanemi!”

Then Sanemi hears your voice from behind Tengan. His eyes lower to you holding a cup of tea in your hands. You inch closer to him with a warm smile that has his shoulder faltering from their once tense state.

Kyojuro furrows his brows and grins. 

Mitsuri watches from around the corner, her eyes widening and low to herself she’s giggling. “How cute!” she squeals and besides her, Obanai is leaning against the wall.

“I made you some tea for your headache.” you say to him, offering the tea to him. 

Sanemi takes it in his hands, nodding. “Thanks.” he murmurs to you, ear tips red. He was going to give Uzui the shit talking he deserved - after he drank the tea you prepared for him. 

You nod your head, content in watching him sip his tea.

“No way, how did she manage to relax him with tea?”

“Where did Shinazugawa-san find such a lovely girlfriend?”

Sanemi’s head slowly turned to the slayers behind him. He doesn’t have to say anything for them to scurry off.

“I hope it tastes good.”

Sanemi’s head snaps back in your direction. “It does.” he murmurs. 

“I’m glad.” you give him a smile and he nearly chokes on his tea.

Tengen snickers.

“First!”

You lift your sword - an extra one given to you by Sanemi - and dash your body forward as fast as you could and slash your sword in a round, cyclone pattern. You do so until Sanemi speaks again. 

“Third!”

Sanemi never did the forms in order. He stated that it was to keep you on your toes.

You swing your sword around just as Sanemi instructed you to once before. He stated this form was to protect yourself from incoming attacks.

“Second!”

You inhale, attempting to keep your breathing intact. You lift your sword upwards to the right and above your head. You release several vertical slashes at once.

“Stand down.”

You fall to your knees, breathing heavily. You were using pure will to keep going and to not disappoint Sanemi.Your head lifts to the sky, finding it to be late into the evening and soon the sun will be setting.

“That’s all for today.”

You’re covered in sweat. You wanted nothing more than a bath to release yourself from all the sweat and grime from training all day. 

“I’ll bathe then begin dinner.” you say to Sanemi and stand on your feet.

“No need.” Sanemi says. “I’ll have the servants-”

“I insist!” you declare. You enjoyed cooking for Sanemi - it was a way for you to show your thanks and gratitude for allowing you to stay with him for a year now. You’d watch what the servants of the corps would make for the two of you and learn from there of his likes and dislikes.

Sanemi doesn’t respond and you take your leave. Your bath isn’t long but it leaves you refreshed. You tie your kimono around you loosely and prepare yourself to cook. You’ve gathered a few vegetables the day prior and left them outside in the basket. You hum to yourself as you go and achieve them towards the back.

You face crashes into something hard and you’re falling backwards just as you open the shoji doors. You fall flat on your ass, your kimono slightly unraveling. “Ow…” you huff, going to tie the kimono back into place.

Your eyes catch dark olive green trousers from where you stand, different from what Sanemi usually wears. Your eyes lift to the person - a tall one at that - until they noticed a purple yukata. It indeed was not Sanemi.

You stand to your feet and huff. You had to lift your head to face the person - a boy with a scar on his face. Your eyes widen slightly - he appeared to look like Sanemi (the scars and eyes gave it away).

“You…” you begin, coming closer to the boy. “...are so cute.” you beam at him - it causes his face to fully turn red. “You look so much like Sanemi. You must be Genya!”

Genya’s face and overall body is hot at your words. He’s embarrassed. He wasn’t expecting to find a woman at his brother's home, yet he recalls the rumors around the corps of his brother having a girlfriend.

“I-I…” Genya takes a step back.

“You must be hungry.” you say and grasp his hands into your own. Genya now stands straighter when he feels your hands. “Come, please!”

Even if Asakusa was nearly a year ago, you recall Sanemi’s drunken words of not wishing to die because of a Genya - you never asked around about such a person. You wished to wait for Sanemi to bring up this person when he was ready, but he never did. 

You instructed Genya to sit at the table while you prepared the meal. He didn’t speak much while you cooked, but it was alright because you did most of the talking.

“Sanemi must still be bathing. He sure does enjoy that.” you ramble off as Genya sits completely still. “You sure are a big boy, Genya! So young and tall.” You ponder how tall your brother would be at his age in an alternate world where he didn’t die. 

Once dinner is done - beef sukiyaki - you place a bowl down for Genya, Sanemi and yourself. You smile at him. “Go on. Eat.”

“T-Thank you.” Genya’s voice is a mere whisper. He does as he’s told, enjoying the wonderful taste. He’s unsure if he should be here without Sanemi knowing first, but he doesn’t want to disrespect you as his girlfriend.

Footsteps could be heard against the wooden floors and Sanemi entered. He’s dressed casually outside of his regular uniform and his hair is wet. His eyes are soft when he enters and smells the food, but they harden once his eyes catch sight of Genya.

“Sanemi, dinner is-”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You’re taken aback by Sanemi’s tone. You can feel the tension radiating from both males - brothers. 

“Aniki, I-”

“Get out.” 

“Sanemi…” you stand to your feet as does Genya. You’re shocked by his harsh tone towards the younger boy. 

“You are not a brother of mine.” Sanemi spits. 

“Aniki. I only came to apologize-”

“Take your apology and leave.” Sanemi turns away, his appetite ruined. “You should leave the corps all together. You’re a weakling who cannot even use breaths. You’re going to die..”

Sanemi goes to walk away and your heart breaks at the harshness of his tone.

“Aniki-”

Sanemi strikes - you note - but you’re already interfering in his attack. You place yourself in front of Genya and push him away, your body shielding him from whatever attack Sanemi was attempting to do.

You do, however, feel hands on your back which you assume was supposed to be meant for Genya.

“Y/N!”

You fall in front of a stunned Genya. “Are you alright?” you ask the young boy who only nods. He’s convinced you were crazy to get in front of an attack from Sanemi - a Hashira at that.

 Your head turns back to Sanemi. His eyes are wide with shock.

“I can sense your intent was to truly hurt him.” you murmur to Sanemi, voice low and lace with…disappointment? The jump is happening in his heart again, Sanemi notes. It’s different now - it causes his muscles to tighten and his heart to ache. “I won’t allow you to do that.”

Genya gasps at your words.

“What he and I have is none of your concern.” Sanemi mumbles. The look you’re giving him is a look he’s never witnessed from you before. You never looked at him with such disdain - such disgust. 

“It may not be.” you say. You stand to your feet, offering Genya a hand that he hesitantly takes. “But I won’t allow you to attack your brother in my presence.”

You turn back to Genya and give a sad smile. You were at fault for inviting him into Sanemi’s home and later, you would apologize. You do not know what both brothers are dealing with and in due time, you wish to understand. As of now, you need to get Genya away.

“I can walk you back to your home.” you say to Genya.

Sanemi’s eyes follow you and Genya until you’re completely out of sight.

The walk was quiet and peaceful. The sun is setting and the cicadas are buzzing louder.

“I’m sorry for causing trouble.”

Genya is the first to speak.

“No trouble at all.” you smile his way. “I’m the one that should have not interfered.”

Genya gulps. Another ten minutes of silence falls before he stops in his tracks.

“I don’t want you to see Aniki in a different light.”

Your head tilts at Genya. His cheeks are a dusty red as he speaks.

“I know he tried to hurt me and all but it’s not his fault!  He…I’m the one who blamed him for killing our mother. He did it to protect me.”

Your blood runs cold at Genya’s words.

“If I would’ve known she was a demon then I…I wouldn’t have said those things to him…”

Genya falls to his knees, pain erupting through his chest. He hates to appear vulnerable in front of others, but he cannot bear his brother for hating him more if he lost you as a partner.

Genya feels hands in his hair and his body stiffens.

“It’s not your fault.” you say to him, gently rubbing his hair. “Sanemi doesn’t hate you, Genya.”

Genya’s head snaps up to look at you, eyes blurry.

“I sense no hatred from Sanemi.” you say to him, kneeling down to his level. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Genya nods hesitantly.

“He told me he wants to stay alive to protect you.” your voice is so low that it barely registers in Genya’s ear. “I know Sanemi loves you. He just…” your mind flashes to Sanemi’s attempt to attack Genya. “...has a hard time showing it.” you say. Sanemi will still be the same who held you so tight while he was drunk, claiming that you were beautiful and he needed to be alive for Genya.

Genya’s head hung. “Thank you, Y/N.” he says. “I can walk the rest of the way. Please talk to Aniki.”

You watch fondly as Genya stands and bows to you. He looked so much like Sanemi in his own way that it makes you simper at him.

You do as you’re told, following the path back to the Wind Hashira’s mansion. You find it silent, everything where you left it. 

Maybe he doesn’t wish to talk, you say to yourself. You decided to eat alone and head to bed, leaving Sanemi’s food on the table in case he’d want to eat it later.

Sanemi wasn’t a drinker.

Whenever Sanemi drank, it reminded him of his father. The man was nothing but a drunk who’d come home and often beat his children and wife - even if he didn’t need to be drunk to do so.

Sanemi recalls the many times in which he had fought his own father to ensure that his rampage didn’t go too far. He didn’t care what bruises, black eyes or cut lips were left behind as long as his siblings and mother were safe.

But Sanemi failed, he thinks. He couldn’t save his mother from turning into a demon.Hiroshi, Teiko, Sumi, Shuya, Koto…he couldn’t save any of them. Not even Genya, as pathetic as it was. Genya remains a part of the Corps and his life is threatened when he goes on missions - no matter how many times Sanemi tries to get him to leave, he doesn’t.

The sky is dark and starless when Sanemi returns home. His vision is hazy and his head is spinning. He can hear it, the sword hitting against the tatami mats. You were still awake instead of being asleep like you should be.

You slice against the tatami mats roughly and with ease, eyes focusing on them. 

You gave up on trying to sleep. The first hour consisted of you tossing and turning. You got up to check and see if Sanemi had arrived yet, and once finding his food cold and untouched, you decided to wait for him. You gave up on the third hour mark and decided that if you weren’t going to sleep that you’d mind as well be training. 

“Why are you awake?”

You’re startled by the sudden voice joining you. “S-Sanemi.”

Sanemi’s swaying slightly and his eyes are low. “Have you been drinking?” you ask, but you’re aware of the answer.

“Why…are you awake?” 

Sanemi’s words slur slightly. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” you respond. “Are you hungry? I-”

Sanemi unsheathes his sword and points it at you. 

You stop in your tracks. 

“Come at me.” Sanemi commands. 

You gulp. “No.”

“Come…at…me…” Sanemi says through gritted teeth. “I won’t ask you again, tsuguko.”

Your heart is pumping outside your chest. You’re trembling but you do as you’re told. 

Sanemi pushed himself to the side before you had the chance to connect your hit - even if that wasn’t what you wanted. “Weak. Try again.”

You inhale deeply. You swing your sword once more and again and again and again. With each swing of your sword, the Hashira easily dodged or parried your attack. 

“You think you’re going to go to Final Selection with skills like this?” Sanemi spats. His words are harsh and your mind is unsure why he’s like this. Was it the alcohol?

You swing your sword and just when you’re sure it would connect with his own sword, Sanemi dodges and the opposite side of his sword hits your side. It doesn’t slice you, of course, but it sends you tumbling. 

“Stand up.” Sanemi demands, inches away from you.

“I don’t want-”

“Stand up!” Sanemi suddenly roars. It echoes off of the trees of the night. “No demon will allow you grace!”

You drop your sword at his feet. You weren’t sparring with him any longer. He wasn’t in his right mind now. 

“I’m leaving-”

Sanemi’s hand, rough and calloused, cups your jaw tightly. It causes you to yelp and you’re caught off guard. He’s kneeling down in front of you with wild eyes. “No demon is going to allow you to walk away.” he spits. “Do you think that husband of yours would’ve allowed you to run away if you were with him?”

Your hands push at his chest, but he doesn’t move. 

“Do you think he would’ve stopped fucking you because you told him no?”

Sanemi only comes closer. His breath is thick with alcohol and for the first time, you question if he’d cause you any harm.

“Pick up your sword and fight me as if I’m a demon.” Sanemi’s grip on your jaw tightens. The sane part of him screams at him to stop - that he’s hurting you. “Fight me as if I’m the husband your father sold you to.”

You’re now punching at his chest to get him away from you, but Sanemi’s stronger. He’s solid. 

“If I allow you to go to Final Selection, you’re going to die.” Sanemi’s sane mind hates himself now for how he’s speaking to you, but the alcohol in his system is angered; at himself more than anything. 

Sanemi couldn’t save his mother or his siblings.

Sanemi couldn’t save Genya from joining the Demon Slayer Corps.

Sanemi couldn’t even save his friend - Masachika died alongside the demon they slain. 

Sanemi’s certain how his heart would crumble if you didn’t make it through Final Selection - that you would be another person he couldn’t save.

Sanemi’s words hurt to hear. Had he no faith in you? You’ve trained hard everyday. Uzui’s training left you sore for weeks on end, but you never stopped. You even decided to ask Mitsuri for help whenever she was free. How you managed to spar with Muichiro, you were unsure yourself. His crow berated you for even attempting to go near him, but you did so regardless because you wanted to become stronger.

You wanted to make Sanemi proud; that his time in saving you wasn’t a complete waste.

Sane Sanemi is going to hate himself when he regains complete control once more. He doesn’t like to look of disdain in your eyes when both of his hands yank your hair.

You’re beautiful, Sanemi notes, even when there's tears blurring your vision. 

“I won’t fight you…like you’re a demon or that man…” you gritted out, shoulders faltering and now you’re sobbing. “You’re not like them.”

Sanemi’s eyes widened. He pushes you onto your back roughly and his hands grip your kimono stash. 

You don’t question him but your body trembles when he yanks your kimono apart. You’re not naked beneath it, but you were expecting to go to bed before training so what you do have is limited.

“Make me stop.” Sanemi hisses. He leans closer to you, eyes not leaving yours. “A demon is going to kill you as they please. That husband of yours,” Sanemi leans closer so that his body fully traps yours beneath his. “would take you as he pleases.”

“Then take me.”

Then take me.

Then take you?

Sanemi’s head spins. 

“You are no demon nor are you the man I was sold to.” you speak, voice weak and low. “I’m not afraid of you, Sanemi. I sense even now that you won’t hurt me.”

Sanemi pushes himself away from you as if you burned him. He turns his head away as you fix your kimono.

“You…” Sanemi speaks after a moment. You both sat upon the ground and neither of you moved from your spot. “...remind me of my mother.”

You don’t say anything. This was the first time Sanemi was speaking of his past.

“She would protect us from our fathers wrath.” Sanemi scoffs. “When you jumped in front of my attack on Genya…you reminded me of my mother. In that moment, I knew in his eyes that I resembled our father.”

You flinch upon hearing Sanemi crash upon the ground. His eyes are closed and you pondered if he passed out. 

“You’re so kind, Y/N. Kind and beautiful.” Sanemi rambles, repeating the same words over and over again. “I feel it again. The jolt in my heart.” Sanemi holds his chest and sucks his teeth. “Aoi said that there’s nothing wrong with my heart. Little brat was laughing at me when I told her my symptoms.”

You find yourself smiling at the wind Hashira. Were men always this dumb?

“We should get you to bed.” you tell him.

“No.” Sanemi responds far too fast.  

“Why not?” Sanemi doesn’t want to tell you it’s because you won’t be coming with him. Instead he releases a grumble. “Don’t feel like it.”

You decide to lay beside him, back against the hard ground and eyes up at the starless sky. 

“Final selection is in a few weeks.” you say.

“I know.”

You lick your lips. “I’m going to come back alive.”

I hope so, Sanemi thinks, but he says, “I know.”

Your head turns to look at him. His eyes are closed and now his breathing is slowed.

Sanemi’s eyes stirred awake when he felt his face being touched. You’re tracing the scar that stretches from his cheek to his nose. He feels it again, the jolt in his heart.

Part 2 | Final

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 4)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer picks you to be his baby mama. Rated E

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

You’re resting against the trunk of a tree at the top of a little hill.

It’s picturesque — the hill is gentle, sloping down to a field of tall yellow-green grass. You can smell it, wafting up with the pollen from golden flowers. The sky above is alive with pinks and oranges bleeding into yellows and whites. A symphony of coos, chirps and pitter-patters of tiny things skittering around have an oddly calming effect as you settle back and allow yourself to exist. 

Eyes closed, you hear the sound of something larger than a mouse rounding the tree trunk. 

“I got it!” A feminine voice breaks the calm.

You don’t have to look to feel the other person at your side. They lower themselves to the ground, knees brushing against yours when they cross their legs to sit next to you. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

She’s not wearing any clothes, and you can see faint scars and wrinkles against the uninterrupted expanse of her skin. 

“It’s so pretty, I’ve never seen one so red.” The woman is happy to see you, speaking with all the familiarity of a sister. 

She presents an apple to you, taken from behind her back like a surprise. 

It is red. Red like an oversized ruby, or a still-beating heart full of blood. All except for the missing chunk made by delicate teeth, yellow-white meat peeking through.

You accept her offering without a word. Even when it’s imperfect, you’re mesmerized by the fruit.

“I took a bite. I’m sorry.” She gazes at you, eyes flinty. “Does that bother you?”

You shake your head vehemently, holding the apple between your hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “No, of course not.”  

The woman’s lips quirk up into a satisfied smile, growing bigger when you lift the apple to your mouth and bite into it. The taste is extraordinary — sweet juice bursts against your tongue when the crisp flesh gives under your teeth with barely any resistance.

You savor the first bite out of necessity but soon you’re ravenous. You can’t get enough. 

Your companion exhales gently through her nose and looks up at the colorful sky. She seems to relish in the breeze that passes by, making the leaves above you rustle and the tall grass ahead blow back quietly. 

The apple is almost gone when she looks back at you, teeth showing as she grins. “Careful there!”

She giggles, reaching out to tap the hand of your hand in warning. It’s all playful, even when you pout and draw back. 

“You’ll eat the seeds if you keep that up.” She says. “Something might take root and grow if you do.” 

Her words give you pause, but only for the length of four or five heartbeats. The core of the apple is no less refreshing and before you know it, you’re holding the stem. 

“Thank you.” You tell her earnestly. 

The stem rolls in your palm, until it appears to wiggle and your brow furrows. In the back of your mind, you think you should be more startled to see it moving on its own. But when it grows pink-gray and ringed, and you realize it’s a worm, you simply place the flat of your hand on the ground below and watch it find its way into the dirt. 

Sudden warmth against your cheek has you looking back up. The woman is inches from your face. Her eyelashes are dark and long and you could count them if you wanted. 

The woman kisses you without a word, hands coming up to cup the back of your head. Surprise does spark up your spine as her tongue darts behind your lips. It’s as if she’s drinking deeply from you before she lets go. 

“Forgive me. I wanted another taste.” She giggles again. “It’s even sweeter than I remember.” 

Your face burns. You open your mouth, ready to ask the questions burning the tip of your tongue before the thud of footsteps sound from behind you. 

She frowns, light leaving her eyes as she glances behind your shoulder. “Oh I was hoping we’d have more time.” 

Her eyes cut across to yours. “Wake up before he sees you!”

———

A wave of pure, unadulterated nausea swept over you as soon as you opened your eyes. You laid still for a long moment, trying to reign in the urge to vomit before you deemed it safe enough to observe your surroundings. 

A vague sense of confusion surfaced through the malaise when you realized that you were in your living room. There was a carmine blanket tucked around you, and with moderate difficulty you raised your head to see that, yes, a fluffy pillow was resting under your head.

Your reality conflicted with the still-present smell of tall, wet grass and a chill from the summer breeze against your skin.

With ridiculous care, you turned your head back into the pillow and muffled a whine. You couldn’t recall feeling a hangover of this caliber ever before in your life.

‘Wait.’

You weren’t hungover. Well, maybe you were but not from alcohol. 

Your neighbors had invited you to dinner, then drugged you. 

Already sick, you forced yourself to breathe deeply before shifting on the couch and pulling up the blanket. Despite confirming that your body was still clothed, you found yourself shaking. 

It didn’t make sense to you how anyone could do this regardless of their intentions. You could not fathom why two people willing to harm you in one way hadn’t done more than that. 

Your relief was short-lived, as dull and diluted as it was, when you twisted to lay back down and came face-to-face with:

A black glove, some aspirin and a glass of water sat on your coffee table.

You blinked rapidly.

There was a small business card in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless ensemble. It was thick stock, white, and flashing fancy golden script:

Lucifer Morningstar

Your stomach dropped as an unnaturally white face with glowing yellow and red eyes flashed in your mind. 

The hallucination you’d seen last night — his image faded from your mind and you were left drifting in a blank, black void. 

No thoughts. 

———

The headache and nausea were considerably lesser when you woke up again. 

Looking at the items on your coffee table — ‘glove, aspirin, water still there’ — you looked at each one and for one, strangely hopeful moment you didn’t see a card. 

Oh no, it had just fallen on the floor. 

———

Lucifer Morningstar 

It was an odd business card, with its little red, white and gold designs on the edges. Fireworks, you eventually guessed. The ‘i’ in both first and last name were punctuated with them as well. 

As you’d popped the aspirin in your mouth and downed the water, you flipped the card over. You could feel your eyebrows rising to your hairline at the hastily written message on the back:

Proof you weren’t dreaming. 

Please Call Me

1-666-666-6669

Pacing was out of the question. Your limbs were still unsteady no matter how much you willed them to function. 

You were trapped on the couch trying to accept what your brain had been screaming at you since you awoke for the fifth time. 

How much time had passed? 

                                      Heaven and Hell were real, and so were God and the Devil. 

            And the Devil had paid you a visit. 

———

The indent you’d made into your stupid, hand-me-down sofa was probably permanent now that you’d spent who knows how long just rotting there. 

Contemplating, processing, fearing. 

Fleeting memories of tantrums you’d thrown as a child paralyzed you. Moments in your life that you’d already regretted so much they kept you up some nights — randomly, provoked by nothing — piled up in your brain. Each one harshened that sinking feeling inside your body. This kind of horror was the kind a person feels right before they die. 

How long have you been judged from above for your wrongs?

Were you already doomed to Hell? Is that why Lucifer himself wanted ‘to meet’ you? Did he make it a personal habit to visit each lowly sinner and taunt them?

God was real, so did everything actually happen for a reason like so many said? 

Why did bad things happen to good people? 

Was your dog in heaven, waiting for you and you’d already disappointed her by getting a one way ticket in the opposite direction?

———

You figured out that the ringing in your ears was actually your phone’s alarm when the natural lighting in your apartment was almost gone. 

You managed to get to it on the other side of the room half-stumbling from your seat. 

“Hello?” You rasped.

“… So you finally decided to answer your phone.”

———

It took you banging on the door and shouting against its old, glossy surface before Cass Farrow cracked it open. 

A myriad of expressions crossed her painted face before she opened the door fully. When she faced you, she smiled. 

“Honey! It’s been days! We didn’t wanna bother you but we were worried! It’s good to see you up and about!” 

The way she acted, as if nothing was wrong, as if the world had turned upside down, had you balling up your fists. Your ragged nails delved into the skin so deeply you could feel the sting of blood.

“I-I need…” You couldn’t stop the copper taste of saliva filling your mouth. 

You would not throw up. “I need to speak to your boss.”

Cass blinked owlishly at that. “My what?”

‘Why? Why? Why are you shocked?’ You shouted in your mind.

“Oh honey,” The low tone did nothing to soothe you, only raise your ire. “I don’t know what —” 

“The Devil!” Your raised voice made the elderly woman jump. “Or Lucifer, or Baphomet — whatever the fuck you call him! I need to talk to him.” 

You scrambled to grab the business card you’d stashed in your pocket. 

“You had him in your apartment, so I know he’s in there somewhere.” You said while waving it in Cass’s face frantically. 

It was deja vú when Mrs. Farrow eyed the card and her face paled considerably. 

“Oh.” 

———

Lucifer wasn’t ‘home’. At least, he wasn’t in his personal Airbnb via the Farrow residence. 

However, Cass waved it away. “He’ll think it’s you or about you or something to do with you and come running.”

Trying to push yourself and demand she tell you more proved to be too difficult. All you could do is stand with your arms crossed, waiting while the (clearly practiced) worshiper combined a series of dried plants in her hands. 

Cass gathered them up and laid them carefully on a side table before fiddling with the furnace and a long lighted match.  

The fire blazed to life instantly from the little flicker it had begun as when Cass threw the plants in. It rose higher, and higher, until it had disappeared past where you could see behind the lintel. 

You had it in you to be stunned when Lucifer appeared from out of those flames. He was perfectly pristine and intact when he stepped out, hunching slightly to avoid his top hat bumping into the smoke chamber. 

The devil was as you remembered him, but also worse in that you couldn’t reassure yourself that his visage was merely a product of your fucked up, overly-imaginative little brain. 

He was so… white.

His skin was practically blinding as freshly-painted walls hit by a sunbeam. 

Lucifer stepped into the room with a flourish. “I came as soon as I coul-”

‘Fuck.’ You’d been spotted. 

And there went Cass, out of the living room to hide away in her smelly kitchen. 

“You’re here!” Lucifer cajoled, theatrics on full display as he beheld your presence. 

The top hat came off, held in his hands as he graced you with a bashful smile like he was some gentleman caller and not Not-Satan. 

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here waiting! But I’m so glad you are. Did you get my card? I thought about just leaving the glove because the card can seem so impersonal —”

“I just got fired.” You blurted out. 

The unusually flat face contorted into an anguished expression. “You… you lost your job…?”

“Because of you.” 

“B-because of me ?!” His already youthful tenor of a  voice raised some octaves. “What —”

You pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! You !”

“You appeared out of nowhere and fucked up my entire worldview. I've had existential crisis-es… cris-ies? I don’t fucking — I’ve had life-altering spirals before but that was fucking nothing compared with this!” 

“And now I’m out of a job and I’m alone in a city I don’t fucking know with cult-worshipping neighbors because I can’t go back to where I was and you’re just standing here like you have no idea why I’m upset!” 

You hadn’t expected to get this far. You hadn’t expected to go on a tirade at all, really. Distantly you felt tears sliding down your cheeks and the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage. 

Shame, guilt and fear began toiling deep inside you. 

Lucifer had been backed against the wall, hands raised placatingly and expression mirroring your own internal panic. It quickly turned into concern as he took in your sorry state of being. 

“Please, no.” He reached out for you and you retaliated by jolting out of reach. “Oh please don’t… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I never… if I’d known…”

He was reaching into his coat and pulling something out before your sight cleared. It was a handkerchief with the red moniker L.M. on one corner. 

The King held it out to you like a peace offering. Or a white flag.

The force with which you snatched it out of his hands was unnecessary but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You said you picked me. What did you mean by that?” You mumbled into the handkerchief. 

Lucifer’s mouth screwed up into a frown, brow creasing. “We don’t have to talk about that —”

“No.” You made eye contact, watching him squirm. “We need to talk about it. Explain it. Now.”

“Ahh… ok, yes, um…” He fiddled with the bow tie at his collar. “Well, like I said before, I wanted to wait until we got to know each other because… because it’s kind of a big deal.” 

Your stern frown implored him to continue.

Lucifer winced. “It’s sort of a-a favor I wanted to ask of you. And I thought that if we talked about it over time maybe it wouldn’t sound so monumental… but actually, now…”

The fidgeting worsened, and his nimble fingers had graduated to fussing with the clasps down his front. Eventually, Lucifer yanked his jacket down to straighten it. 

“So, I’ve been around for a really, really, really, really long time.” The Devil started. “And I’ve kind of been on my own for *like* ever and that’s fine, whatever, can’t complain. Normally it’s all about warding off boredom.

“But! Lately, it’s been harder and harder to just —” He made a fist and punched down onto the palm of his other hand to elucidate. “— Just, ahh, not be bored? I guess?”

“And it’s been interfering with all the shit I gotta do. I mean I have no-oo motivation, none at all, and it’s becoming a big problem. The other Sins have actually noticed. Like Satan? You know, we talked about him when we met — yeah, he came up to me not too long ago, saying —”

Your heart stopped as Lucifer’s eyes went completely red, blazing in his skull like magma and accompanied by long horns protruding from his head. 

His voice took on an unearthly, gravelly quality as he, presumably, mimicked Satan: 

“‘We’re worried for you, man. Ozzie says you haven’t been returning his calls. Levi and Bee miss you on their outings but you always say you’re busy. Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to us, right?’”

Lucifer was back to normal in a millisecond. “And I do know that. I do! But as much as I wanna take them up on it, I just feel like none of them will really understand what’s wrong. I don’t even understand it. Or at least I didn’t until it came to me out of nowhere, like lightning.” 

He mimed being zapped in the head.

“Visits and parties with my brothers are fun and all, but they end... And I find myself all alone more often than not.”

Lucifer sighed deeply. 

“I don’t really have anything to live for,” He stressed. “Except for myself and…” 

“That’s not much.” He snickered mirthlessly. 

You swallowed. The anger, frustration, exhaustion and still-present fear were blanketed by an uncomfortable bout of sympathy. 

Sympathy for the Devil. 

‘Oh shut the fuck up you.’

“Don’t you live for the suffering of mankind or something?” You sniffled, trying to regain your metaphorical footing in the conversation and, in turn, regenerate that anger you’d been consumed by not a minute ago. 

Lucifer looked from the ground to you, the gleam in his cherry-red eyes fighting to come back to life.

“Aha! No, no. That’s-that’s a Bible thing, right?” He groaned, pulling down the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ugh, I still don’t know why Heaven insists on that overblown press kit! It’s so fucking old! And inaccurate!” 

Lucifer commiserated with you. “Too much involvement from human hands, too. Ya know? I mean people use it to justify some of the most insane shit I’ve ever seen!”

He cleared his throat at your blank expression. 

“Anywho-oo. What was the question again? Oh! Oh, do I live for the suffering of man — no! No, I don’t. In fact, where I’m from? Being in the middle of that suffering shtick gets old real fast. I’ve stayed away from it for a good while now and really I’ve never been better.”

The blond topped off his statement with a smile, showing those razor teeth while also trying to come across as easy-going and candid. 

A beat passed, in which you felt your lips form a thin line. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. 

You snorted. 

Lucifer looked at you as if you’d lost your head as your snorts turned into full-blown laughter. Until he, of course, wanted to fit in like he knew exactly what was going on. 

“Hahaha, yeah…” Hell’s king chuckled nervously. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I? Ha ha… ha.”

 Shaking your head ‘no’, you tried to reign in the body spasms. 

“So when you say you ‘picked me’, you mean you want me to… what? Be your therapist?” You asked. “The Devil needs a friend’s shoulder to cry on? What?” 

Lucifer fixed you with the first look of genuine annoyance you’d seen (directed at you) from him. 

“No.” He harrumphed. “I need a baby.” 

*

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision

I'm so sorry if I missed anyone who asked to be tagged! I'm having a hard time keeping track.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE BAKUGOU FAMILY HEADCANNONS (Platonic)

There would be NO DOUBT that they would ALL be HELLA OVERPROTECTIVE about you 

I mean, Masaru would be kinda chill actually compared to Mitsuki and Katsuki. He won't freak TF out if you talk to other people and have fun with your friends and he's the most lenient one in the family and he doesn't give a damn what you wear. He likes seeing you in all sorts of clothing and thinks his darling little daughter looks good in whatever she wears and won't force you to do anything 

But when it comes to the question of sleepovers and going to other people's houses WITHOUT EITHER one of the Bakugou's to accompany you is a big no go. They're worried that something might happen to you if you step out of the house and they half wish you'll stop trying to be apro hero. Why be a hero and put your life at risk while you have the big strong Ground Zero as your brother and 2 parents who are perfectly capable of protecting the youngest Bakugou?

Mitsuki, on the other hand will treat you like a child along with Katsuki. Everyone loves spoiling the shit outta you and Mitsuki likes dressing you up in cutesy cutesy little outfits. Mitsuki however will NEVER allow you to break rules like disobeying her when she says no to something and sneaking off with your friends. She simply will NOT tolerate rule breaking and even if you DO manage to sneak around her back, your brother Katsuki will always be there to 'get you on the right track' even if he has to use his quirk on you. They just want what's best for you after all

They are self aware yanderes and their relationship towards you is unhealthy and delusional and they KNOW it but they have to protect you from the horrors of the world. If you used to attend the UA, you bet Katsuki had something to do with why your mom suddenly wanted you to drop out and take a break for sometime and soon that 'break' turned into a never ending relaxing vacation at your home for you. You won't be working anytime soon while they're around that's for sure and while Masaru talks to you, Katsuki and Mitsuki will be busy preparing food for you guys to eat. They don't want you going in the kitchen, what if you accidentally hurt yourself or boil or burn yourself?

They'll love cuddling with you and making you feel safe and comfortable in their presence. They have NEVER hit you till date and never will either. And WHO expects parents to starve their own kids? Cuz, they aren't those types of parents

For punishments, they'll just restrict your usage of your favorite items but they won't leave you isolated or without food and water. They aren't THAT heartless psychopaths 

Katsuki is the world's MOST short tempered brother one can have and you BET he's gonna cling to you 24/7 and tell on you to your parents what you both did the entire day (This boi should come with a blabbermouth and a tattletale warning label). You can hate him all you want for it but he just wants what's best for his youngest sibling. He loves and cares about you too much and he won't cuss around you so much either since he actually rather enjoys your innocence. His blood will BOIL when you talk to other people ESPECIALLY other GUYS and he'll obviously threaten to blow them up, even if you talk to Kirishima

 Being in relationships is COMPELTELY off the table for you. They will NEVER allow you to date and if you are in a relationship in secret, oh... what a shocker, that scumbag broke up with you the next day? Well, you can BET your allowances your OWN family was behind it but they'll just comfort you as they get you and give you whatever you want

The house will be full of baby pictures of you and Katsuki and you all as a happy family. They'll have guests over a few times but they can't ever let someone try taking you away from them so they'll try limiting the time of the guest's stay in their household instead of maniacally killing them. They won't let pro heroes enter their house either and will come up with INFINITE excuses as to why they can't come in. They just don't want to lose you 

Just let them take care of you and everything will be all right after all, family ALWAYS knows what's best for you...

''Come on little firecracker, you'll look cute and adorable in that dress and I think we should CERTAINLY put up some pictures of the wall after this. What do you think Masaru?''

''Sure, our little angel looks nice in whatever they wear''

"Tch... you don't look THAT bad firefly..."

[lets-try-some-writing]

What does Ultra Magnus's funeral plan for Kids includes? 😂 Is it based on Cypertron or Earth customs? UM's search history looks very worrisome, "How to bury a dead child?". Ultra Magnus has funeral folder for each kid.

Ultra Magnus's plans for each of the children varies wildly between all three of them. He has not told anyone about his funeral plans, but the team know he has them stored away somewhere and have helped him work on them in quiet ways. His plans are as follows:

Jack

According to Earth customs, Jack still being a minor, is to have all of his inheritance go straight to his creator for her to handle. Aside from that and the legal hassle, according to the laws of Cybertron, Jack is also to receive additional honors in the event of his death.

As a chosen Herald of a Prime, in the event of his death, he is to be given religious honors and buried on Cybertron's holy grounds. Or barring that, his frame is to be melted, or in this case burned and turned into an ornament that the reigning Prime may wear on his frame. This way the Herald may serve eternally, at least according to religious doctrine. His remaining family is to be given a singular wish within reason to be granted as payment for his service.

Ultra Magnus made some additional notes in response to Jack's habits. That being that Jack's body will need to be cleaned out by humans before funeral handling since no Cybertronian in their right mind will want to run that kind of mortuary work. His body is to also be dressed as the humans see fit before being fitted with ritualistic armor, as is only proper according to the Primacy.

Miko

In accordance to Earth customs, Miko's body will go back to her family for a limited time so that they might settle her affairs. But in the event of her death, that mourning period will only be permitted for so long. As a Wrecker, Miko's body must undergo the correct Cybertronian rituals.

Her body is to be cleaned and then a badge of honor laid over her chest. From there, the Wreckers who mentored her, worked with her, or had direct interactions with her are to give her a funeral rite that they feel fitting with their knowledge of her personality. In this case, all control over her funeral rites falls to Bulkhead and Wheeljack. Ultra Magnus got their statements and according to them, the only end they find fitting for her is simple.

Wheeljack has stated that for a Wrecker like Miko, she should go out with a bang and have a pyre built and laced with explosives. Her body can then be lain on it and join the flames. Bulkhead suggested instead having her body preserved within Cybertronian crafted armor in order to honor her warrior's spirit. Those two ideas are likely to be combined in spectacular fashion if and when she dies.

Rafael

In accordance with human customs, Rafael's body will be entirely returned to his family, except for one key component. All his affairs will be handled by his human family due to his youth and position, but there is one small Cybertronian addition that must be seen to.

Rafael doesn't know. Ratchet doesn't know. Not even Bee knows. But in order to protect Rafael and give him proper honors, he is listed as a Cybertronian special agent on record. His name is Redacted and all information on him is carefully secured. According to Cybertronian tradition and law, when a special agent dies on a foreign world, a piece of their frame is to be returned and added to the hall of the fallen faceless.

Very few are allowed into that hall, and only there will his identity be revealed for the correct parties to see. That way he will be forever remembered, but in a way that won't compromise those closest to him. It was Optimus's suggestion to list him as an agent, and so in the event of his death, an officer is to retrieved some core part of Rafael, be it his heart or his brain, to be turned into a gemstone and preserved.

Ultra Magnus is prepared for their deaths. He knows fleshies don't last long.

[michanvalentine]

Things about Vincent Valentine that I read around and piss me off.

"Vincent should have done more!"

It is one of the most common observations. And I hate it! What he was supposed to do exactly? Ok, let's take a step back and pretend we're in the real world and not in a fantasy action video game. Vincent was a highly trained Turk and an excellent marksman. That's not enough to say that he was definitely also a cold piece of shit ready to do any job. In fact, I believe that Vincent was the exact opposite of this and that he was not cut out to be a Turk at all. Which is why he got into trouble. "Stern and upright" is how Square Enix describes him, so we're talking about a person who has great morals and a high sense of duty. And these two things don't always go together. To this we must add the naivety he had as a young man (evident in DoC) and his great empathy towards others (which FF VII Rebirth is highlighting a lot). So when Lucrecia decided to use the fetus as an experiment, Vincent found himself in an impossible situation, where morality and duty were at odds. Human experimentation disgusted him, but his role was as a bodyguard, nothing more. His duty was to watch and let the scientists do their work. Furthermore, at that moment no one could imagine what the result of such experiments would be and what Sephiroth would do in the future. So we're talking about a man torn by his own principles, full of doubts and, lest you forget, heartbroken. It is not easy to act in a situation like this. But he couldn't ignore his own morals, so despite his role he tried to reason with Lucrecia first and then he confronted Hojo, with the consequences we know. Did he have to kidnap Lucrecia? Did he have to kill Hojo? Did he have to burn the Shinra Mansion to the ground? Let's be honest, normal people don't act this way. And Vincent Valentine was the sanest one in the middle, so he paid for it. But even if Vincent had freaked out and gone down the path of violence, there would have been consequences and it would probably have ended the same way.

But let's go back to Lucrecia for a moment. Vincent's naivety and empathy did not allow him to notice the red flags. He only saw the best and deepest part of her, the fragile, kind and brilliant one. When she pushed him away, he still behaved as correctly as possible. He stepped aside, hoping that she would be happy. There is no selfishness, there is no possessiveness. This is called unconditional love, and it is very rare. Should he have claimed Lucrecia for himself even if she didn't want it? Fight the other man to get the woman back? Continue to chase her proclaiming his love like a crazy? These are some traits of toxic masculinity. Vincent left her absolute freedom, he respected her choices as a woman, as an adult and as a scientist, even if his sensitivity allowed him to understand some things before she could notice them herself. And that's why Vincent's question "are you sure this is what you really want" hurts so much. He knew it. He knew she would love that child.

The fact that Vincent feels like a failure who was unable to protect the woman he loved and her child is understandable. But this is only his feeling, his perception of himself in a situation way bigger than him. So no one will ever be able to get it out of my head: Vincent Valentine did everything a good man with his hands tied behind his back could have done. He went out of line for Lucrecia and Sephiroth, and was killed for it.

[purplesoulcollection]

Hello, I really like your fanfic about Suho😊🤩😘. I imagine Suho accidentally catching Reader, who is free falling in the air. They don't remember anything about their past. Suho will have to learn how to take care of someone who doesn't even have an ID and there is no missing person news or missing case. The police are also stumped by Reader's case.

Hello, anonym, I tried my very best to fulfill your request. Hope you enjoyed it.

Fallen Angel?!

Aargh--

There was a faint sound that seemed to come from nowhere.

It was the kind of sound that was easy to overlook, too indistinct to pinpoint, so most people simply ignored it because they think it's just an illusion

But Suho caught it—the echo of a scream that felt distant and unstable But he can't pinpoint where did that sound come from the sound echoed faintly in his ears.

Beru, who was with him, also noticed it, his senses heightened at the thought of an impending confrontation.

Suho scanned his surroundings, finding nothing unusual, until he finally glanced up at the sky. That’s when he saw her—a woman plummeting from above, with no tall buildings around to indicate where she might have fallen from.

There was no time to being surprised and ponder how she ended up there; if Suho didn’t act fast, she would hit the ground hard, with no way to soften her fall.

Suho didn't hesitate for a moment as he dashed to save the woman, who was plummeting faster due to the pull of gravity. In his panic, he completely forgot about the Monarch's authority and his own abilities.

With a loud thud, Suho managed to catch her, his body jolting from the sudden weight and force of the fall. Thankfully, he held on tight, letting out a sigh of relief as he realized he hadn’t let her slip away.

If my reflexes hadn’t been quick, I wouldn’t have been able to catch her at all.

Gently, Suho placed the woman on the ground. She was unconscious now, despite having screamed just moments before. Perhaps the shock of her near-death experience had taken its toll.

I was left with a burning curiosity about what had happened to her without nobody I can asked. I can I can rub my hair in annoyance, don't know what to do with this sudden incident.

I analyze the girl appearance further. The beautiful woman had long hair and wore a simple shirt and pants, showing no visible injuries. At first glance, she appeared perfectly normal, but Suho sensed something was off.

He realized that something wasn’t right. With no tall buildings around, there were only two explanations: she had either flown through the sky or had been dropped from above.

"Young master, I believe that she part of itarim, an ordinary human being cannot possibly fall from the sky without knowing where she fell from." Beru wisely tried to persuade Suho that the woman was dangerous and should be killed immediately before causing trouble to his young master.

Suho pondered the possibility that what Beru was said might actually be true.

Beru had a point; ordinary humans typically wouldn’t encounter bizarre occurrences like this, even in a world where dungeons could appear unpredictably.

For an average person lacking special abilities, the worst fate would be to get pulled into a dungeon and perish without a chance to escape. However, falling from the sky certainly indicated that this woman was mixed up in something questionable.

He realized why Beru suggest to kill this woman; there was a desire to protect him from any potential danger, as his responsibility was to accompany and safeguard him on his father's orders, who was far away fighting.

Yet, Suho couldn’t bring himself to do what Beru say, His human sense does not allow that, harm an innocent person who had fainted from shock simply because he suspected she might be connected to Itarim is unacceptable.

He was resolved to grow stronger so he could reunite with his parents, but he also didn’t want to resort to senseless violence against those who were uninvolved.

"No Beru, I won't kill her just because your suspicions. We have to bring her to the hospital to check her condition. Even though he doesn't have any wounds, it's possible the wounds are internal."

He picked her up again in princess style and ignored Beru's protests until he circled around Suho.

Even if she was really part of the itarim, he should at least save this woman's life for interrogation.

It seemed to validate Beru's concerns. The woman's identity remained unverified.

She lacked any personal identification in Korea's advanced system, and there were no missing person reports that matched her description from the internet.

This left Suho feeling overwhelmed; he even reached out to his uncle Yoo Jinho for assistance in allowing the woman to receive treatment without needing to establish her identity.

The risk was significant if it became known that the woman had no identity here. Suho and her could face arrest and deportation without any warning. Indeed, if someone have a connection with powerful people, it can make things easier for the shady things too.

Now, all Suho and Beru could do was wait for the woman to wake up to answer their questions whether she like it or not.

The doctor said that she's fine, but he have to analyze more deeply once she wakes up to see any illness that only appear once she awakes.

Suho was restless, tapping his feet in a display of impatience, while Beru shot disapproving glances at the woman. He was uneasy about leaving potential threats unaddressed, but the young master had made his choice, and all he could do was comply.

As time passed, Suho's anxiety grew when the woman remained unresponsive, despite the doctor assuring them she was fine.

Could he really leave her alone in the hospital? Should he head home and just hope she wouldn’t wake up before he returned?

Perhaps fate was on his side, nudging her back from the depths of unconsciousness.

Both Suho and Beru noticed the woman stirring when her finger twitched, prompting them to ring for the doctor.

The doctor arrived promptly, conducting a thorough examination that included checking her eyes, asking questions, and performing responsiveness tests—leaving Suho and Beru puzzled by the process.

After completing the tests, the doctor approached Suho with a concerned look. "Mr. Suho, we believe the woman you brought in may be suffering from amnesia. She seems unable to recall any events from her life." Suho felt a jolt of shock at the doctor's revelation.

Amnesia?! A mysterious condition that could conveniently obscure someone's past identity. He never imagined he would find himself in such a predicament.

The doctor departed after advising Suho not to pressure the woman into remembering anything and to allow her to remain calm. Suho merely nodded, his attention fixed on the woman, who appeared lost in thought, nobody knows what in her mind.

"Do you even know your name atleast?" Suho's voice emerged slowly, momentarily shattering the silence. The woman, who had been lost in thought, finally turned her gaze toward him for the first time.

Her eyes, filled with confusion, reflected her struggle to process the question Suho had just posed, though she remained silent.

Impatiently, Suho drummed his fingers, eager for a response, but ultimately, she shook her head, signaling her lack of knowledge.

Watching her confused expression and the way she shook her head left Suho feeling uneasy and drained. He took a deep breath, knowing that the challenges ahead would be tough.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave this woman, whose identity remained a mystery. The chance that she could be an adversary loomed large. It was up to Suho to keep a watchful eye on her.

"Do you want me to pick a temporary name for you, or would you like to choose one yourself until you can recall something from your past?"

He didn't want to call her this woman all the time, at least if this woman remembered her name, it would make his life a little easier.

Instead of answering, the woman just stared at me, looking puzzled as if she thought I was joking. "Don't you recognize me? Aren't you the one who brought me here?"

"I only brought you here because I found you unconscious. I don’t know you at all."

"Then why not choose a name for me? I'm not sure if the name I come up with will suit me."

"You may have lost your memory, but you still remember that you might not pick a good name?"

"It's just a gut feeling…" The woman turned her gaze away, embarrassed by her struggle to think of a suitable name for herself.

Suho pondered over a fitting name for her. She was a woman with an unknown age and identity, and he didn’t know her well enough to determine if she was part of itarim or not.

However, as an art student, Suho understood that a name plays a significant role in shaping a person's identity, so he took the time to think of a beautiful and appropriate name for her.

"...Name, do you like that name?"

She looks surprised with that name. Her eyes widened and her breath caught, as if I had struck a chord. I noticed the person flinch, scratching at the smooth skin marred by a wound. A nervous sound escaped her lips, leaving me uncertain if I had truly guessed her name.

"I like it. Name, huh?" Those were her first words since waking, her voice raspy from sleep. Perhaps that was why she had been silent at first. I offered her some water and reassured her that I would look after her.

"Suho, help me!" A cry that has echoed in my mind countless times since I chose to care for someone who lost her memory.

Whenever I see her in distress, she ends up shattering something I just cleaned. Perhaps she meant to lend a hand, but it always results in an accident.

This same person, whom I decided to look after, has indeed brought chaos into my life, just as I had anticipated.

I can't tell if she was always this way before her memory loss, but it seems she is quite careless. I have no idea what her life was like before we crossed paths.

When I first welcomed her into my home, her actions turned my home upside down, testing my patience to the limit. It's hard to believe that someone so beautiful struggles to take care of herself.

Honestly, I've grown accustomed to tidying up my own space because the harsh teaching from my parents, unlike my friends, who can be just as messy as she is, but of course less careless as her antics. So when i see her mess, i became more sensitive to it.

I could only tell her to leave the rest to me, and she ran away quickly avoiding my babbling which I was already tired of doing. It's faster if I do it without talking.

I've actually reached the stage where I doubt that she's part of Itarim because she's so careless and she doesn't show any suspicious signs. Maybe she only the ordinary people who was caught in a certain situation that caused her to fall from the sky.

I want to believe from my bottom heart that she's not the worst, that I should fight with. I only hoping that Name is a good person so that we can have good relationship and maybe become closer…

Because even when I mad at her antics to destroy my home, she still accompany me like now, she think she hide herself but i can still see her, peeping with guilty face. I don't feel lonely in this wide home again when my parents being missing and leaving me alone.

Even Beru can't understand this lonely. Because he'll left me once my father call him, to nowhere I don't know.

"Name, do you want to go outside?"

Nama's expression, which had been filled with guilt, instantly transformed into one of joy. Her eyes widened in surprise as he realized I was speaking to him.

"Can I go outside?" she asked, moving closer to me, his excitement palpable after being cooped up for so long since his hospital release.

I nodded; Nama wasn’t a prisoner who needed to be confined all the time. She just had to be cautious about not being discovered without an identity in this world.

"Come with me. I'll take you for a stroll," I said, and his face lit up with a smile.

"That sounds perfect! You have to take me somewhere nice, Suho," she exclaimed joyfully before heading to his room to change into the clothes I had ordered for her online.

Soon, we made our way to the mall and eventually strolled through a park that wasn’t too crowded. Seeing several small children playing together and adults also walking around like us created an indescribably peaceful scene.

I’m really eager to paint this scene, but sadly, I forgot to bring my supplies.

"This is for you," the name rings a bell. I glanced at Nama, puzzled, until I noticed what she was offering.

A drawing book and a pencil. Where did she bring those?

"Suho wanted to draw it, right? Your hands always seem to move when you want to create something. Plus, you’re always painting, so I thought you might need this," she explained to me and i take it.

"But you didn’t bring any paint?" My question made Nama hesitate as she rummaged through her bag, which I assumed held my drawing book earlier.

With a hint of sadness, she looked at me and asked, "Do you need some? You usually just use a pencil, don’t you?"

Seeing her worried expression made me laugh; she really thought I was in trouble. "Just kidding! A pencil is all I need." I waved my pencil dramatically before focusing on capturing the scene.

My pencil danced across the page, creating a sketch until I finally completed it.

"Is it not done yet?" Nama asked, eyeing the unfinished sketch.

"I’ve just made a rough draft; I’ll polish it up at home. If I finish it here, I might not get it done tonight…"

As we walked home, I still had my doubts about Nama’s true identity. I want to believe that her name isn’t tied to Itarim and that I can genuinely like her, but that’s depends in the future that will happen.

For now, i will try to enjoy this company...

The End

Do you like it, whoever request this fic?

[buckysxgal]

I'd Let The World Burn - Eustass Kid x Reader

Picture I got from Pinterest - It's a screencap from One Piece

Summary: Just a little snippet of you and Kid during the Raid of Onigashima.

Word Count: 870

Details: Set in Wano Arc (specifically in Onigashima). Established Relationship. this is during the Big Mom fight. Kid saves the reader (and Nami, Usopp, and Otama by association). Kid calls reader 'Doll'. I tried to keep specifics about Reader (gender, race, etc.) out, if i missed something please let me know and I can fix it! I want this to be readable for EVERYONE. I listened to LET THE WORLD BURN by Chris Grey while writing this.

Also posted on AO3

Floral Banner and Support your Creators banner from @saradika

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” A voice bellowed out. The voice could be heard all throughout Onigashima. Currently, I was running with Nami, Usopp and Otama through the hallways of the castle. 

“Who the hell was that?” Nami said, startled, looking around for a person to match the voice while we ran. We turned right down another hallway only to bump into Big Mom again. She was now targeting Otama because she was ‘going against her’ by running away from her with us.

“I don’t think we have time to question that Nami.” I said while pointing up to Big Mom who was gearing up to attack. “What should I do about the ones I hate?” Big Mom started, speaking to her sword, the cloud and the sun floating around her. “I should kill them!” She screamed, lifting her sword up to strike.

Nami held the child closer to her body, and Usopp fell to the ground with a shout. I stepped closer to Nami and Otama, spreading my arms out and bracing myself with my eyes closed. Nami, Usopp and Otama’s screams were suddenly drowned out with the sound of metal scraping together. I looked up in awe, seeing my lover’s metal arm shooting out above us and hovering it in front of Big Mom’s face.

“You’re…!” Big Mom started before Kid attached his arm to her face and lifted and slammed her into the floor, cracking the floorboards with a call of Punk Gibson. His figure outlined appeared in the dust behind us as we all turned around to face our savior. Big Mom’s ally, the cloud that she called Hera, flew over to her asking if she was OK as she sat up.

“Kid!” Big Mom growled out. Kid came to a stop in front of us. Nami and Usopp let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

“Captain Kid!” They shouted, tears of joy and stars in their eyes.

“Go away, Straw Hats. This bastard…” Kid lifted his metal arm once more, metal from around the room latching onto his arm.

“Is my prey!” He continued. I smiled up at him as he looked down on me from my spot behind Nami, Otama, and Usopp, now noticing that I was here. He blinked a few times, staring at me processing my presence. 

“I’ve been looking for you all over.” He stepped closer to us and held out his non-metal arm beckoning me over. I stepped around the group and got closer to him. His hand came up to caress the side of my face, his thumb sweeping across my cheek.

“You hurt Doll?” He said gruffly. I shook my head ��no’ and allowed him to press his forehead to mine. He stayed liked that for a moment before pulling away and shoving me behind him.

“Stay out of the way, Doll. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He muttered over his shoulder. I beckoned Nami, Usopp and Otama closer to me, stepping back from the fight. We started to run towards the performance hall I turned to look behind me and saw Kid cracking his neck gearing up to fight. 

“Kick her ass babe!” I yelled as I turned back to face Nami and Usopp. Nami looked over her shoulder to me and smirked at me.

“Doll?” She giggled.

“S-shut up.” I muttered as my cheeks grew hot. 

Time Skip to after the Raid - still on Onigashima

We had watched Kid and Trafalgar Law fight from a room off the performance hall. As soon as they cast Big Mom down that hole the two pirate captains fell to the ground, exhausted.

I ran down the steps towards where Kid was laying on the rubble. Nami, Otama and Usopp followed me, but stopped to fall in with the crowd surrounding the two exhausted pirate captains.

“Kid!” I screamed out, flinging myself onto his body, letting sobs wrack through my body.

“Please don’t scare me like that.” I whispered as I  let my hands curl into fists in his red fur coat. His non-metal arm came up and rested on the back of my head, stroking my hair as the sobs lessened. I could hear murmurs in the crowd, namely from the other pirate crews, wondering who I was.

“Don’t worry Doll, I ain’t going anywhere.” He whispered, placing a kiss against my hair. I smiled and lifted my head to look up at him. He sat up, lifting me with him and keeping me on his lap as he looked over me, assessing me for any injuries.

“What’s this?” He asked, pointing towards the scratch on my cheek. I lifted my hand towards it, remembering what happened.

“We were running from the fire, and I leaped out of the way of a burning piece of wood, landed on the floor, not gracefully, and scuffed my cheek.” I chuckled. He let his thumb graze it gently.

“I’m glad you made it out of this alive, Y/N.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, bringing me into his embrace again.

“Well of course Kid, can’t leave you behind can I?” I said, smirking up at the man, who returned the gesture. He placed a small kiss on the side of my forehead.

[millyh23]

Under the Radar

Alessia Russo x Reader (Y/N)

Word Count: 5k

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The sound of cleats clapping against the polished floor echoed through the training complex, mingling with the faint thud of a distant football and the chatter of teammates. You exhaled, leaning against the locker as you changed from your kit into a more comfortable hoodie. The women's team was abuzz with energy after a long session, but your mind was on one person.

Alessia Russo.

Ever since you had first arrived at the club, there had been this tension between you and Alessia. It wasn't the typical rivalry or competition, nothing like the friendly banter exchanged among teammates. No, this was different. The fleeting glances across the locker room, the accidental brushes of skin during drills, the way her eyes lingered just a little too long on you. And when she spoke to you, it felt... charged.

But no one else seemed to notice. To everyone else, Alessia Russo was just another one of the star players—friendly, down-to-earth, passionate about the game. They didn't see the fire behind her cool blue eyes when she looked at you, the way her voice softened whenever your name left her lips. It was as if you two were in your own little world, and no one else was allowed in.

The situation between you and Alessia was, for lack of a better word, complicated. She was the rising star of the team, the golden girl with all the potential in the world, and you were... well, you. You had made a decent name for yourself, but you were nowhere near her level. Alessia had a bright future ahead, and you were determined not to be the one to hold her back.

So, you kept things secret. Your late-night text exchanges, the stolen moments in deserted corridors, the brief but burning touches after practice. No one could know. You weren't even sure if either of you fully understood what this was. Was it a relationship? No. A fling? Hardly.

A situationship? Maybe.

It was an unspoken rule between the two of you—keep things under wraps. You told yourself it was for the best, that you were protecting both of your careers, that you were avoiding complications. But in truth, it was fear. Fear of what the team would say, of what the world would think. Fear of how fragile this connection between you and Alessia truly was.

"Y/N, you alright?" a familiar voice jolted you from your thoughts. Ella Toone stood in the doorway of the locker room, towel draped around her neck, a concerned look on her face.

You quickly nodded, pulling your hoodie over your head and forcing a smile. "Yeah, just tired. Long session today."

Ella raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but she didn't push. "Well, we're heading to grab food. You coming?"

You hesitated for a moment, your mind drifting to Alessia. She hadn't said much to you during practice, just the usual banter, nothing more. But you knew better than to expect anything overt from her in front of the team.

"Sure," you replied, grabbing your bag and following Ella out of the locker room.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself in your small apartment, sitting on your bed with your phone in your hands. You had replayed the day's events over and over in your head, wondering if you had misread the signs. Maybe Alessia was just being polite. Maybe you had imagined the connection between you two.

But then your phone buzzed, and your heart skipped a beat.

**Alessia**: Are you alone?

You stared at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as a thousand thoughts ran through your mind. Should you answer? Should you just let things be?

Before you could overthink it, your fingers moved on their own.

**Y/N**: Yeah. You?

A few seconds later, her response came.

**Alessia**: Meet me at the park. 10 minutes?

You knew exactly which park she meant. It was the one near the training ground, quiet and secluded, where you two had met on more than one occasion when things felt too overwhelming.

You grabbed your jacket and slipped out of your apartment, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to the park. The night was chilly, the crisp air biting at your skin, but you barely felt it. All you could think about was Alessia.

When you arrived, she was already there, sitting on a bench under the dim glow of a streetlamp. Her blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she was dressed casually in a hoodie and joggers. She looked up as you approached, her expression unreadable.

You sat down beside her, the silence between you thick with unspoken words.

"You alright?" you finally asked, breaking the tension.

Alessia sighed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "I don't know, Y/N. This... whatever this is... it's getting harder to keep it quiet."

Your heart sank at her words. "You want to end it?"

She quickly shook her head, turning to look at you with a flicker of desperation in her eyes. "No, I don't. That's the thing. I don't want to end it. I just... I don't know how much longer we can keep sneaking around like this."

You nodded slowly, your mind racing. You had known this was coming. The secrecy, the stolen moments, the constant fear of getting caught—it was all taking its toll. But the thought of losing Alessia, of letting go of whatever this was, felt like a punch to the gut.

"What do you want to do, then?" you asked softly, not trusting yourself to look at her.

Alessia was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the ground. Then, she let out a shaky breath. "I don't know. I want to be with you. But I don't want to ruin what we have with the team. I don't want to cause problems."

You reached out, placing a hand on hers. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, as it always did.

"We don't have to decide anything right now," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can figure it out, together."

She looked up at you then, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty, but also something else. Something that made your heart skip a beat.

"Together?" she echoed, her voice soft.

You nodded, your fingers gently squeezing hers. "Yeah. Together."

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. There was no team, no pressure, no expectations. Just you and Alessia, sitting on a park bench in the quiet of the night, holding onto each other like lifelines.

But reality had a way of creeping back in, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

"I hate this," Alessia muttered, pulling her hand away and running it through her hair in frustration. "I hate having to hide."

You felt a pang in your chest, knowing she was right. You hated it too. The secrecy was suffocating, the constant fear of someone finding out, of everything falling apart.

"Then maybe we should stop hiding," you said before you could stop yourself.

Alessia froze, her eyes widening in surprise. "What?"

You swallowed hard, the weight of your own words settling in. "Maybe we should stop hiding. Maybe we should just... tell the team. Be honest about what this is."

Alessia stared at you, her expression a mixture of shock and confusion. "Y/N... are you serious?"

You nodded, even as your heart raced with fear. "Yeah. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? They find out? So what? We're not doing anything wrong."

"But what if it changes things?" she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety. "What if it makes things awkward with the team? What if they don't understand?"

You hesitated, knowing she had a point. The team dynamic was delicate, and anything that threatened to disrupt it could have serious consequences. But at the same time, you couldn't keep living like this. You couldn't keep sneaking around, pretending like what you and Alessia had didn't matter.

"We won't know unless we try," you said softly. "And if they don't understand... then that's on them. Not us."

Alessia was silent for a long time, her eyes searching yours as if trying to find some kind of reassurance.

Finally, she let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping. "I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Your heart sank at her words, but you forced yourself to nod. "That's okay. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I'm not going anywhere."

Alessia smiled weakly, but there was a sadness in her eyes that made your chest ache.

"I just... I don't want to lose you," she whispered.

You reached out, cupping her face in your hands and forcing her to meet your gaze. "You're not going to lose me, Alessia. No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."

She leaned into your touch, closing her eyes as if trying to hold onto this moment for as long as she could.

"I hope you're right," she murmured.

---

The next few weeks passed in a blur of training, matches, and stolen moments with Alessia. Things between you hadn't changed much, but there was an underlying tension now that hadn't been there before. Every time you were together, there was this unspoken question hanging in the air: What are we going to do?

But neither of you had the courage to answer it.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, you found yourself back in the park with Alessia. The park had become your sanctuary, a place where you could both breathe without the watchful eyes of your teammates. Alessia sat on the bench, her head resting on her hands, visibly drained. You sat beside her, unsure of what to say. There were only so many times you could tell her that things would work out, that hiding wouldn’t last forever.

But tonight, something felt different.

She hadn’t spoken much during practice, and when she did, it was with a sharpness that made you worry. The weight of your situationship—the secrecy, the fear of discovery—was wearing her down. You could feel it in the way her energy dimmed when you were together, in the heaviness of her sighs when you talked about the future.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N.” Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the finality in it.

Your chest tightened, and you could feel your throat close. This was it—the conversation you had been dreading, the one you had known was inevitable.

She continued, her voice trembling, “It’s just... I can’t keep pretending. I hate lying to the team, lying to everyone. And it’s not fair to you either.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your heart growing. “It’s not fair to you either, Alessia. I don’t want this for us either, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Alessia looked at you then, her eyes glistening under the faint streetlights. She looked torn, a mixture of love and guilt swimming in her expression.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” she whispered. “But we’re just... we’re stuck. We’re hiding, we’re afraid, and I feel like I’m suffocating.”

The honesty in her voice cut through you like a knife. She wasn’t wrong. You had both been suffocating, weighed down by the fear of what could happen if the team found out about you. But despite everything, despite the frustration and exhaustion, you still wanted her.

“Alessia, we can find a way through this. We just need to be brave, to trust each other. We don’t have to keep hiding.” Your words came out in a rush, desperate, hoping that somehow they would be enough to convince her to stay.

She shook her head, her lips pressing together. “But what if it changes everything? What if it ruins the dynamic? I don’t want the team to look at us differently. I don’t want us to become a problem.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and the silence that followed was suffocating. She wasn’t wrong—there was no guarantee that coming clean about your relationship wouldn’t cause problems with the team. But the alternative? Continuing to live in secrecy, pretending you didn’t care for each other the way you did? That was unbearable too.

You reached out, taking her hand in yours, squeezing it gently. “I love you, Alessia.”

It was the first time you’d said it aloud. You hadn’t meant to, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at you, shock evident on her face.

“I love you,” you repeated, more softly this time, willing her to understand how deeply you meant it. “I don’t care what happens with the team or what anyone else thinks. I just want to be with you.”

Alessia’s eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip, her hand trembling in yours. For a long moment, she said nothing, her breath coming in shallow bursts as she tried to compose herself.

Finally, she whispered, “I love you too.”

The relief that washed over you was overwhelming, and you pulled her into your arms without thinking, holding her tightly against your chest. She clung to you, her fingers digging into the fabric of your hoodie as she buried her face in your neck.

For a few minutes, the two of you just held each other, the weight of everything—your love, your fears, your uncertainties—seeming to lift, if only for a moment.

But then Alessia pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “I still don’t know if I’m ready to tell the team. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.”

You nodded, understanding. “We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

She gave you a small, grateful smile, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could get through this.

---

The next few days passed in a blur. Training was intense, and with a big match coming up, the team was under more pressure than usual. Alessia had returned to her usual self, smiling and joking with the others, but there was still a heaviness behind her eyes that only you could see.

You didn’t push her. After the conversation in the park, you had both agreed to take things one day at a time, to not rush into anything. But you could feel the shift in your dynamic. The words “I love you” hung between you like a promise, a silent vow that you were in this together, no matter what.

The night before the big match, you were sitting in your apartment, mindlessly scrolling through social media when your phone buzzed.

**Alessia**: Can I come over?

You replied quickly, heart skipping a beat as you read her message. It wasn’t unusual for her to stop by after practice, but something about the way she’d asked tonight felt... different.

**Y/N**: Of course. I’ll leave the door unlocked.

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door before Alessia slipped inside. She looked nervous, her usual confidence replaced with a quiet vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, getting up from the couch to meet her.

Alessia hesitated for a moment, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. “I’ve been thinking... about us. About everything.”

You felt a familiar knot of anxiety form in your stomach. “Okay…”

She took a deep breath, her blue eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, you felt a wave of disbelief wash over you. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, a determined look crossing her face. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I realized that no matter what happens, I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to keep pretending that we don’t mean anything to each other.”

Your heart swelled at her words, but you couldn’t help the flicker of doubt that crept in. “What about the team? What if things change?”

Alessia smiled softly, stepping closer to you. “Things will change. But we’ll figure it out. I’m done being afraid.”

You reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

She leaned into your touch, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t want to keep hiding that.”

The raw emotion in her voice made your throat tighten, and you pulled her into your arms, holding her close as the weight of her words sank in. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, it felt almost unreal.

“We’ll tell them after the match,” Alessia murmured against your shoulder. “We’ll tell the team.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We’ll tell them. Together.”

---

The match the next day was intense. The stadium was packed, the energy electric as both teams fought tooth and nail for every inch of the pitch. You could feel the pressure weighing down on everyone, the desire to win burning in every player’s eyes.

But despite the high stakes, you felt a strange sense of calm. Maybe it was because, for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t carrying the weight of secrecy on your shoulders. You and Alessia had made a decision—together—and now all that was left was to face whatever came next.

The match ended in a 2-1 victory for your team, and the celebrations were immediate. Teammates hugged and cheered, the adrenaline of the win fueling the joy in the locker room. You were caught in a whirlwind of congratulations and laughter, but through it all, your eyes kept drifting to Alessia.

She caught your gaze from across the room, and for a moment, everything else fell away. You smiled at her, and she smiled back, a silent understanding passing between you.

It was time.

As the team continued to celebrate, Alessia made her way over to you, her expression a mix of nerves and determination. She reached for your hand, and without hesitation, you took it, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Everyone,” Alessia called out, her voice loud enough to cut through the noise.

The room quieted, all eyes turning to the two of you. You could feel your heart racing, but you stood tall, ready to face whatever came next.

Alessia took a deep breath, glancing at you before speaking again. “Y/N and I... we’re together.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then—

“Well, it’s about time!” Ella Toone exclaimed, grinning as she threw her arm around both of you.

The room erupted into a mix of laughter and cheers, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Teammates came over to congratulate you, patting your back, teasing you both in good nature, but there was no judgment, no awkwardness.

Just acceptance.

Alessia looked at you, her blue eyes shining with a mix of relief and joy as she squeezed your hand tightly. The tension that had been weighing down on you both for months seemed to melt away in an instant. This moment, the one you’d been dreading for so long, had turned out to be far better than either of you could have imagined.

Ella Toone nudged you playfully. "Honestly, I thought something was going on. You two have been making eyes at each other for months."

"Subtlety isn’t exactly your strong suit," Leah Williamson teased Alessia with a wink, causing a ripple of laughter throughout the locker room.

Alessia blushed, ducking her head shyly but still smiling. You could feel her body relax next to yours as the tension in the room lifted, replaced by the warmth and support of your teammates. No one was making a big deal out of it. The camaraderie you shared with them hadn’t been broken—it felt stronger, if anything.

“Are you two going to start planning double dates now?” Georgia Stanway joked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m down for a couples’ night if it means I don’t have to third-wheel anymore.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s take it one step at a time, Georgie.”

As the celebration wound down, the reality of what had just happened began to settle in. You had taken a massive step, and the fear that had plagued both you and Alessia for so long now seemed so unnecessary in hindsight. The team wasn’t just a group of colleagues; they were your family, your support system. They accepted you and Alessia for who you were—both on and off the pitch.

When the room finally started to clear, you and Alessia found a quiet moment together. You were standing in the locker room, just the two of you, surrounded by the remnants of the post-match chaos. She leaned against one of the benches, her expression still soft and full of emotion.

“So,” she said, her voice quieter now that the noise had faded. “That went... better than expected.”

You smiled and walked over to her, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Much better.”

She reached for your hand, pulling you closer until you were standing between her legs as she sat on the bench. There was a peacefulness in her eyes now, a weight lifted that had been there for far too long. You could see it in the way she held you, no longer hesitant, no longer guarded.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing slow circles on the back of your hand.

“For what?”

“For being patient with me. For waiting until I was ready.” Alessia’s voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed the depth of her gratitude. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you cupped her face gently in your hands. “You were brave, Alessia. I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled then, her lips tugging upward in that soft, shy way that you adored. “I guess we’re really doing this now, huh?”

You leaned down, brushing your lips against hers in a slow, lingering kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. We’re really doing this.”

---

The days after your announcement felt like a dream. The secrecy, the sneaking around—it was all behind you now. For the first time, you and Alessia could just be. You didn’t have to worry about what anyone else thought or whether you’d slip up and give yourselves away. It was liberating, and you hadn’t realized just how much of a toll the secrecy had taken on both of you until now.

At training, things were surprisingly... normal. The team treated you the same way they always had, and if anything, they seemed more relaxed around you now that the truth was out in the open. There were a few teasing comments here and there, but nothing malicious. It was as if everyone had been waiting for you two to admit what they had all probably guessed long ago.

You and Alessia no longer had to steal moments away from prying eyes. The occasional hand-holding, quick kisses, and shared looks between drills were no longer something you had to hide. And it made everything feel lighter—more real.

The next match was another victory, and after the game, the team decided to go out and celebrate. You and Alessia were part of the group, laughing and chatting as the team crowded into a pub near the stadium. Drinks were flowing, and the atmosphere was electric with post-match joy.

At one point in the evening, you found yourself outside on the terrace, away from the noise of the pub. Alessia joined you, her breath visible in the chilly night air as she leaned against the railing beside you.

“You okay?” you asked, noticing the contemplative look on her face.

“Yeah,” she said with a soft smile, though there was a hint of something else in her expression. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

She turned to you, her blue eyes soft but serious. “About how lucky I am to have you. About how scared I was for so long that this would all fall apart if anyone found out.”

You smiled gently, brushing your thumb over the back of her hand. “We were both scared. But we made it through.”

“I know,” she said, her voice a little quieter now. “And I think... I think I’m finally starting to realize that I don’t have to be scared anymore. Not about us. Not about what people think.”

There was a new sense of peace in her words, and it made your heart swell with pride for how far she had come.

“I love you, Alessia,” you said softly, the words coming as naturally as breathing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this sure of anything in my life.”

She smiled, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she whispered against your lips. “And I’m ready. For all of it.”

---

Over the next few weeks, things only continued to get better. The team was thriving, and so were you and Alessia. You had settled into a rhythm, both on and off the pitch. There was a new level of understanding between the two of you, a quiet confidence that came from knowing you didn’t have to hide anymore.

The team’s support had been unwavering, and it only made you feel closer to them. The banter had picked up again, and Georgia never missed an opportunity to tease you about your newfound coupledom.

“Lovebirds!” she’d call out whenever she saw you and Alessia together, earning groans from both of you but laughter from everyone else.

It became a running joke, one that you didn’t mind anymore. The teasing wasn’t malicious—it was affectionate, a sign that the team had fully embraced your relationship.

As for you and Alessia, every day felt like a new beginning. You’d wake up next to her in the morning, your legs tangled together, her soft breathing the first thing you heard. You’d train together, work together, and come home together. There were no more secrets, no more sneaking around—just the two of you, living your truth.

One evening, after a particularly intense match, you were both lying in bed, the room filled with the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. Alessia had her head resting on your chest, her fingers tracing absent patterns on your skin.

“You know,” she said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence, “I used to wonder if it was worth it. All the sneaking around, all the hiding. I was so scared that if we were honest about us, it would ruin everything.”

You ran your fingers through her hair, listening intently.

“But now?” She lifted her head to look at you, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Now I know it was worth it. Every moment. Because I get to be with you.”

You smiled, your heart full as you leaned in to kiss her softly. “I feel the same way.”

She settled back against your chest, her arms wrapped around you as she let out a content sigh. “I can’t wait to see what’s next for us.”

Neither could you.

As you lay there, holding her in your arms, you realized that this was just the beginning. The fear, the secrecy, the uncertainty—they were all behind you now. You had made it through the hardest part, and now the future was wide open, full of endless possibilities.

Whatever came next, you and Alessia would face it together. And that, more than anything, made you feel like you could take on the world.

___

The End.

[sharpedgedfool]

Here's Blaze! Her name is is Iris Flare, I started giving them just generalised names in English as I started incorporating more than Scottish folklore into these guys so it didn't make sense to have them all named in Gaelic, the Seasons travel constantly all over the world as they come and go with their seasons so I thought I'd be fun to assign different cultures to each of them!

Some more extensive lore under the cut!

Summer is the second most targeted Seasonal Spirit, but unlike Winter who is largely hated, Summer is regarded as a loved season and those challenging her often want to overthrow her place with malicious reasons, she has no gripe about fighting back but can often leave damage in her wake due to the nature of her flames. She does not see as much war as Winter but she fights just as fiercely. Summer is often compared to Winter but is adamant she does not agree with the ill-manner most refer to Winter with. They've never met but she is not disillusioned by the endless praise she receives against criticism against him. She firmly believes that all seasons are just as equal and should not be given favour over another. She hears about Winter mostly from the birds who migrate between their seasons, and she knows that if Winter was so bad then no bird would make the journey there willingly to avoid her own.

In contrast she is close to the other two seasons Spring and Autumn. She is the second youngest of the four, the order being Winter, Spring, Summer then Autumn. Her and Autumn are particularly close as she helped guide him through his first season when he was largely unprepared for it. Her and the other seasons took up the mantle willingly with an expectation on what their duty was. Iris used to be a mortal Royal who stepped up to inherit the responsibility when a rival kingdom set out to slay the previous Season, her family were historically friends of the Fae so she was asked for specifically and knew what she was getting into and did - and still does - take the responsibility very seriously. She doesn't often engage in festivities without request, but enjoys talking with every being of life regardless of status within a court (or outside one even).

Her flames are an indicator of her emotional state, they sometimes change colour and the temperature can range, so mostly she tries to keep calm and dim her flames especially around dry times in the season, her Sari is woven to be flame-resistant and prevents any accidental burns so she doesn't often take it off. Her jewellery are a close replica of the ones she wore as a mortal, it has been eons since so she pays tribute to the memories even as they grow faint. Ironically she mostly enjoys the rain when she can let her flames burn as bright as she likes. She enjoys flying as high as she can, where the only thing that can catch fire is herself, and the chill allows her to push her fire beyond what she could do safely on the ground.