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silantryoo · 4 months

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XTRA [ RP STONT ] — happy new year, unnie

miny/n spend their first christmas together (with everyone else, of course)

WARNINGS ; fluff, crack, yujin being annoying, everyone is taken basically (except for chaewon)

y/n wasn't attached to her phone.

there was once a time where she was, almost a year ago. she remembered those late nights, scrolling through each one of her burner accounts, watching as the snow fell against her chilled window. each word, each article seemed to invade her mind, and it felt like the world had given her the worst gift of all.

she hated herself back then, almost as much as she loved kim minji now.

"i don't understand why we have to host it in our dorms." y/n could hear kazuha complain, groaning as chaewon ushered them to clean faster.

y/n didn't mind, in all honesty. cleaning reminded her of minji, and how the girl would reprimand the youngest newjeans member to pick up after herself.

her girlfriend was so cute.

"you'd rather sneak yujin in?" yunjin raised an eyebrow, teasingly.

chaewon stopped in her tracks, letting her duster hang to the side. "you sneak yujin in?"

a chill ran down y/n's spine. if she found out kazuha had been sneaking yujin in from time to time, there was a greater chance that she would figure out she and minji were doing the same.

"no."

y/n could see kazuha glaring at the american in the golden retriever onesie. the kim already knew what was going through her best friends mind, the ballerina trying to recall any wrongdoing that yunjin had done.

nakamura kazuha was scary, exactly ahn yujin's type (though she'd never admit it).

"um," y/n cleared her throat. she was glad her leader had a short attention span. "when are they coming again?"

"yujin should be here soon." chaewon went back to dusting, the cheetah print of her onesie moving along with each sweep. "hanni just texted yunjin that their on their way. kkura-unnie's somewhere getting something with chaeyeon."

"i bet they ditched us."

y/n held back a sigh. it's not that she didn't want to hang out with her members, but she'd prefer if she hung out with her girlfriend one on one.

y/n missed her girlfriend.

"probably not." chaewon shook her head. "kkura-unnie said she's bringing a surprise for me, whatever that means."

the three younger girls look at each other.

sakura and chaeyeon were actually doing it. they were doing the plan.

"is she talking about-"

kazuha nodded. "i already helped yunjin-unnie to hang it."

yunjin gave a thumbs up, her body basically vibrating at the thought of her leader finally growing brain cells. she hoped sakura's plan worked this time around. if not, then perhaps chaewon was meant to be single for the rest of her life.

"hang what?"

the three looked at each other once more. they looked at chaewon.

she was so gonna kill all of them if she found out.

"what?"

on cue, the doorbell rang, the monitor lighting up to alert the girls of the presence of a human. a part of y/n wondered who conveniently appeared at that very second, but she knew it could only be one person.

y/n walked to the monitor, looking at an eye that seemed to be centimeters away from the camera. if she didn't know any better, she would've chalked it up to a twelve year old playing with their doorbell camera, but y/n knew that playful glint in the 'stranger's' eye, all of daejeon did.

she looked at kazuha, waiting for the taller girl to react.

kazuha, like always, giggled, a blush dusting her cheeks.

there it was.

pressing down on the button, kazuha spoke into the mic, her voice echoing her smile. "yujin!"

"hi." yujin smiled into the camera, stepping away. "you look pretty."

y/n rolled her eyes. the two always flirted so shamelessly in front of her. if kazuha wasn't so happy and yujin wasn't one of her best friends, she would've thrown up.

the kim spoke into the mic this time, watching as yujin smiled at the thought of her girlfriend.

"you can't see her through the camera."

the idol shrugged, "i don't need to. i already know she's gonna be pretty."

kazuha giggled once more, earning chaewon's attention who sighed at the interaction. she never understood how someone could act like that with another person.

"gross." y/n frowned. at times like these, she wished minji was near. "ka-chan'll open the door for you."

"okay."

although the door was was a mere meter away, kazuha still rushed as if her life depended on it. she hadn't seen yujin in a while (three days ago, to be exact), and she was sure she was losing her mind.

on the other side of the door, the idol could hear the door unlock at lightning speed. yujin's smile widened. the thought of seeing her girlfriend was making her impatient, her leg tapping against the pavement.

the door swung open, but before the cold breeze of winter could burst through, yujin launched herself onto kazuha, lifting her up with a strength that could only be from the adrenaline she felt.

y/n sighed, closing the door behind them. she watched as the two exchanged pleasantries, ignoring the kim that was standing behind them.

"hi, i'm here too." y/n raised an eyebrow at the couple. "i'm your best friend. am i just a block?"

"zuha's my girlfriend, though." yujin peaked around the corner, checking for the le sserafim leader before she planted a kiss on kazuha's cheek. "she's also your best friend."

y/n covered her eyes as kazuha wrapped her arms around yujin's neck.

"you're so sweet."

y/n wished minji was here.

the door opened once more, the maknae of le sserafim staring at y/n. the younger girl's cheeks were rosy, her eyes shifting around. y/n could tell she was hiding someone behind her.

it couldn't have been kim minju, sakura and chaeyeon were still on their way.

slowly, a familiar face peaked out from eunchae's shoulder, her cat-like eyes meeting the kim's. she could hear kazuha gasp behind her, yujin snickering.

chaewon was gonna kill someone tonight.

"you're kidding."

"stop leaving the door open!" y/n could hear chaewon's voice coming closer to the door, and there was no doubt she'd see kyujin's bright red cat onesie as soon as she saw what was happening. "the hot air is leavi-"

chaewon dropped the duster, a small clatter echoing the entry.

yujin bit her tongue once more.

"so, um... surprise! kyujin is spending her christmas with us!" eunchae grabbed her girlfriend's arm, shoving y/n out of the way as the two entered the house. quickly, the youngest engulfed chaewon in a hug. "thank you so much, i love you, you're the best unnie ever."

chaewon blinked.

"hold on-"

"you're the best, unnie!" eunchae signaled for kyujin to hurry, the idol rushing inside and bowing politely to all those she passed (yunjin stood in shock).

eunchae let go, chaewon's mind still reeling at the fact kyujin was most likely gonna stay in the dorms, overnight.

"yah!" eunchae scurried of at the sound of the leader's voice. "hong eunchae!"

y/n sighed once more, tapping the back of her phone as she closed the door. she watched as yujin entered the living room, arm wrapped around kazuha's waist. off to her left, kyujin and eunchae sat on the sofa, chaewon eyeing them, holding back her tongue.

the kim glanced at her phone, waiting for minji to text or to call, just wanting to know where her girlfriend was and if she was close.

"i miss my girlfriend." y/n spoke to no one, head hung low as the hood of her onesie covered her face.

yunjin, being in ear shot, patted the younger girl's back, watching as she sulked like a puppy. "she's on her way, y/n-ah."

y/n whined, and it took everything in yunjin to not tease the younger girl.

"i miss her now."

her and yujin were more alike than she'd like to admit.

yunjin rubbed her back, trying her best to reassure y/n.

"she's on her wa-"

"i miss her." she whined once more, hating the feeling of not having her girlfriend around her.

yunjin shook her head. she was glad that she had more security to not act like this, even if she did miss her girlfriend back in america. minji, who was at most five minutes away, was here in seoul, and y/n was getting more and more impatient by the minute.

it was cute, honestly, but yunjin now had to babysit a sad kim y/n and an angry kim chaewon while keeping an eye on kazuha and yujin.

she didn't understand how sakura did it, or how eunchae seemed the most responsible out of the four of them.

"unnie, where's minji?"

"she's on her way."

"i want my girlfriend now."

yunjin could only hope for minji's quick arrival.

chaewon was going insane.

it wasn't because eunchae had dragged her girlfriend to the christmas gathering. in all honesty, she actually liked kyujin. the youngest member of nmixx was responsible, her thoughts seemingly organized, the perfect contrast to their eunchae. chaewon just liked putting up a front, so kyujin knew there were consequences if she broke their maknae's heart.

truthfully, kazuha and yujin were more of an issue. chaewon knew how yujin's mind worked, the ive leader was much like her. she liked having kazuha around, and urging her girlfriend to wreak havoc onto her, sakura and y/n (mostly her, though). chaewon could handle that, even if the glint that formed in kazuha's eyes scared her.

minji was no problem either. she was sweet, and thoughtful, always stopping by to say hello to her whenever they encountered each other in the corridors between breaks. she was a breath of fresh air for y/n, and, although chaewon would be outwardly livid, she wouldn't mind minji marrying y/n.

she could handle all of that usually, but this christmas had a glaring problem.

kim minju.

why did minju have to be so pretty?

the doorbell rang repeatedly, echoing throughout the house as each alert was cut off by the next. y/n, not bothering to check since only one person (read: haerin) did that, nearly ran to the door, opening it to face the newjeans girls in their respective onesies.

minji smiled sheepishly, her cheeks rosy from the cold of the december night. if y/n wasn't so upset, she would've kissed her right there.

the le sserafim member ushered the girl group in, closing the door behind her, ignoring minji's longing stare.

usually, y/n would jump into her arms, and minji would basically ascend at the feeling of being so close to her girlfriend. minji, like always, would cherish the feeling, like she cherished kim y/n's entire exsistance.

now, there was nothing but a frown.

"you took long." minji looked down, gripping onto the gift in her hand. "were you busy looking at other girls?"

the newjeans' leader's eyes widened, shaking her head. she'd be crazy to think of anyone but her girlfriend. come to think of it, minji hasn't thought of any other person like that since she liked y/n, not even her celebrity crush.

minji liked her kim more, anyway.

"minji?" hanni snickered. minji ran around the house like a lunatic for an hour or two. "she was late because-"

"shut up!" minji covered hanni's face, shoving her away lightly. even if they had been dating for a while now, the young idol still felt nervous. it was their first christmas together, after all.

y/n raised her eyebrow, scanning the other girls' faces.

hyein, like always, looked back at the kim, her eyes gleaming with excitement. y/n wondered if hyein had grown, or if y/n had merely shrunk. still, she knew that hyein would never rat out their leader. danielle was smiling at her, obviously trying to hold her tongue. her cheeks twitched from how hard she was smiling, looking between y/n and her girlfriend. y/n knew she wouldn't rat her out either.

and then, there was haerin.

"oh." haerin started. her face was void of emotion, but her eyes seemed to tease her leader. "minji-unnie couldn't find her perfume since hyein used it last. she said she needed to smell good for you."

minji glared at the girl. she knew that haerin would tell y/n, but the last part wasn't necessary.

it didn't matter, because minji could hear her girlfriend giggling beside her.

she looked over, letting go of hanni as y/n engulfed her in a hug. minji could feel herself smiling involuntarily, and a part of her still couldn't fathom how happy she always got around her girlfriend.

she looked down, her eyes meeting y/n's. minji's eyes fluttered closed, feeling y/n kiss her cheek.

"you're so cute, kim minji."

minji's face lit up, her heart beating loudly against her chest. the young idol, although seemingly shy when it came to affection, loved it every time.

still, she had some common sense, and considering she was at the le sserafim dorms, where chaewon constantly kept an eye on them...

"unnie!"

minji was scared of her girlfriend's leader, and she didn't understand how y/n wasn't.

as if chaewon had sensed something was wrong, she came over, looking between y/n and minji with suspiciously. she didn't understand how someone so short could hold so much authority with a single stare.

"no kissing in front of children." chaewon pointed a finger at minji, and the taller girl bowed slightly, muttering sorry's.

y/n rolled her eyes.

minji straightened back up, noticing there was another, more familiar looking girl to chaewon's left. hanni gasped at the sight, gripping onto danielle who hit her shoulder repeatedly.

"let them live, unnie." the mystery woman's voice seemed to calm down chaewon, and minji could feel the air finally enter her lungs once more.

"o-okay..."

y/n bit the side of her cheek. her leader was no better than her. in fact, chaewon was worse, cheeks bright red as she stared back into the other girl's eyes.

y/n felt minji lean over to her, her breath tickling her ear as they all entered the living room.

"is that the girl you told me about?"

y/n had told her on one of their many 7-eleven runs that chaewon was worse than the both of them combined when it came to a certain someone. minji never believed her, chaewon seemingly against anything that was romantic in some shape or form.

("she's just bitter because she can't pull.")

"minju-unnie?" y/n could see her leader's hand twitching, fighting off the urge to grab the actresses hand. she couldn't help but shake her head. "yeah."

minji believed her now.

"oh." minji put her present down next to the tree. she went over to chaewon, placing a hand on her shoulder. "good luck, sunbaenim."

"what?"

the le sserafim girls (minus chaewon) burst out laughing.

"stop laughing!" chaewon whined as minji scurried back to her girlfriend. "i don't get it!"

kyujin wondered if she was going to die today.

she had her fair share of playing against some of the most competitive players she's ever met. haewon always made them play just dance together (even though kyujin had won every time they played). she was used to the screaming and shouting, but this was different.

jang kyujin feared for her life.

"you're a cheater!" chaewon had a stack of uno cards in her hands, pointing violently at the girl who tried to hide behind her maknae. "eunchae, your girlfriend is a cheater!"

eunchae couldn't help but laugh.

"you just suck at this, unnie."

chaeyeon shook her head. no matter how different chaewon looked on the outside, her habits never seemed to change.

"how did you manage to get an entire deck in one round?"

"shut it!" the leader whined, groaning as she leaned into a now flustered minju. "i was actually trying this time..."

as the shouting continued, sakura could only watch as they continued to fight. the members of newjeans (and yujin and minju) watched silently, obviously overwhelmed with the amount of accusations in the air.

("it's your fault you're bad." "you're not even playing!" "this is why you're single." "do you know how to play, unnie?" "don't insult me, jennifer.")

"are they always like this?" chaeyeon whispered into her girlfriend's ear, sakura sighing.

"you should see how bad it gets when its just us."

"ugh." chaewon could only take so much berating, finally letting kyujin off the hook and 'allowing' her to win. "fine, whatever. minji, go ahead."

minji nodded, looking around as chaewon, yujin, and yunjin stared at the cards in her hands.

"go minji-unnie!" hyein cheered suddenly, distracting everyone. "our official goddess visual."

minji shook her head. "seriously, hyein?"

hyein shrugged, and continued to cheer her member on. everyone knew that it was either her or yujin that was gonna win, both girls having four cards left versus yunjin and chaewon who had 10+ cards each.

"my votes on yujin." chaeyeon smiled at her former member.

she already knew minji was going to win, but it never hurt anyone to support the losing side.

"thanks, unnie." yujin beamed, her eyes shifting to kazuha. "i've got you on my side, right, babe?"

"well..." kazuha smiled innocently, yujin's face dropping. the ballerina began to scoot over to yunjin. "yunjin-unnie has no one cheering her on."

"babe," yunjin's eyes gleamed in excitement while yujin whined, saying that she 'needed her girl' to win. "please?"

"sorry." kazuha kissed her cheek, earning a gasp from chaewon (she chose to ignore the older girl's words. minju would calm her down eventually). "if it makes you feel better, y/n's doing it, too."

minji looked beside her, trying to reach y/n before she sat beside yunjin.

y/n was her girlfriend. minji wanted her girlfriend to cheer for her, and she wanted to win for her (and hyein too, she guessed).

"unnie?"

y/n looked over to her girlfriend, finding the young idol pouting lightly. minji, like always, looked adorable, her cheeks slightly red from how badly she wanted to win, and her eyes begging the older girl to sit next to her.

"don't look at me like that." y/n muttered, fighting back the urge to kiss her girlfriend. "you know yunjin-unnie's gonna cry later if she doesn't have anyone cheering for her."

"i will not!"

she was.

y/n smiled, grabbing minji's hand and squeezing it lightly. "next game, okay?"

minji nodded. "okay."

the game continued, kazuha and y/n helping yunjin with every chance they had. every so often, y/n would shoot minji a soft smile, and it was enough for minji to know that her girlfriend was cheering her on.

god, minji loved y/n so much.

"i wanna be like them." danielle sighed, resting her head on the cat-like girl's shoulder beside her.

haerin tensed up, hyein too busy to notice it this time around. hanni, however, wasn't.

"that's your cue, haerin." she leaned over, shoving the girl lightly as danielle continued to watch the game unfold.

haerin glared, staring into hanni's soul as if she was trying to suck it out with her eyes.

"damn, what's with the eyes, girl?"

"this is stupid!"

chaewon whined, watching as she finished last. sakura laughed into her cup, her smile reaching her eyes as she stared into chaewon. chaeyeon shook her head, knowing her girlfriend was only angering the girl.

"you really suck at this, chaewon-ah." sakura teased, earning a laugh from yujin.

"shut up!" chaewon growled, calming down as she felt minju's hand rubbing her forearm. "i... i forgot the controls."

y/n shook her head, glancing at the rest of her members. she looked at the screen, watching the score board as she sat comfortably in third place, right behind a bot in second and sakura in first.

the idol leaned back into minji, feeling her girlfriend wrap her arms around her waist as y/n continued to sit comfortably on her lap.

"i'm doing good, right?"

minji nodded, kissing y/n's shoulder. she hadn't been paying attention, in all honesty. her, yujin and kyujin had been talking about something unimportant while the others played mario kart on sakura's switch. hyein and haerin were off watching kazuha's newly bought goldfish swim around in the kitchen, while danielle and yunjin were gossiping about their love life's.

minji felt at peace, knowing that her girlfriend was near her.

the young idol kissed y/n's cheek once more, earning a groan from hanni.

"stop making me feel single, bro." hanni muttered, rolling her eyes.

"that's on you, bro."

hanni stuck her tongue out, frowning as the next course started. it wasn't her fault she had a crush on her childhood best friend (but it was her fault for not saying anything to him).

"minji." yujin called out, her eyes laced in curiosity. "do you call y/n bro?"

minji shook her head. "no."

minji looked at the girl sitting on her lap, laser focused on beating hanni, chaewon, sakura and eunchae. minji had called y/n bro before they had started dating, but it never crossed her mind now that they have. perhaps her girlfriend would prefer it over 'unnie' or 'baby'.

"do you want me to call you bro, unnie?" minji asked.

y/n tensed up, glancing behind her as she mashed on the buttons harder.

("yah, kim y/n! don't break my controller!")

y/n hummed, clenching her jaw. the thought of minji calling her that upset her. she wasn't a 'bro'.

"do you want me to break up with you?" y/n asked sweetly, watching as she got passed by hanni. she cursed under her breath, exhaling out of her nose.

minji's eyes widened.

"no."

"then no." y/n muttered, listening to chaewon cry out in frustration as she overtook her.

minji nodded, ignoring the snickering that came from hanni beside her. hanni couldn't care less about the fight that almost broke out at that moment, not when she was currently in first place.

yujin, watching everything play down, turned to kazuha with a sweet smile.

"babe," the ive leader loved looking at her girlfriend. "can i call you-"

"finish that question and i'll break up with you."

hanni snickered once more.

"oh."

chaewon liked to think that she knew minju like the back of her hand.

she knew the younger girl's favourite snacks, the way she liked her ramen cooked, how her eggs were boiled. chaewon knew minju's favorite colors to wear, and what brand of shoes were her go-to.

there was no way chaewon would lose this game this time, not when she knew everything about the love of her life.

"my turn." minju sat herself down comfortably between sakura and chaewon. the actress could feel everyone staring at her, waiting.

part of her wondered how dense chaewon truly was. she adored it most times, like she adored chaewon, but at times like this, she hoped that chaewon could see past her words. she hoped chaewon could see what she really meant and how she really felt.

minju cleared her throat, smiling nervously as she avoided chaewon's fiery gaze. "i have a crush on someone in this room, i've met the head of samsung before, and i've been offered to model overseas."

"definitely the first." chaewon said almost immediately. she would know if minju liked anyone. she would be crushed, but she would know.

the leader looked around, watching as everyone, even the younger girls, looked at her curiously. she didn't understand their stares, but at least chaewon knew that they would all lose. there was no way minju would like anyone without chaewon knowing.

the others nodded in agreement, muttering to themselves as the le sserafim leader watched from a distance.

"minju-unnie," eunchae started, her hand held tightly by kyujin. "it's samsung, right?"

minju could feel herself blush. it had been mere seconds before most of the girls had come to their conclusions. she had never been a good liar, chaewon had told her so.

"was it that obvious?" minju scratched her cheek.

chaewon paused.

"you like someone?" suddenly, the air felt like it was on fire, chaewon's lungs burning with every breath she took.

minju liked someone, someone that wasn't her. the girl that she had loved since they had first met didn't feel the same. kim minju didn't feel the same because she liked someone else.

chaewon wished she was someone else, whoever that was.

"you're blind, unnie." y/n shook her head, resting her cheek against minji's shoulder.

yujin raised an eyebrow. "you're one to talk."

y/n looked at yujin with a blank look. she knew all the ins and outs of the ive leader, the taller girl telling her everything that happened during her promotions, including things that kazuha didn't know about.

y/n smiled.

"ka-chan," y/n called out for her best friend. "did you know that yujin recently got asked out by-"

"no one!" yujin couldn't let kazuha find out, not when she knew how it would affect her. "no one. my eyes are only on you and for you, anyway."

kazuha looked at yujin, her eyes scanning her girlfriend up and down.

"okay." kazuha hummed, watching as yujin sighed in relief. "we'll talk about that later."

yujin pouted, trying her best to grab kazuha's hand and reassure her that nothing happened. perhaps ning yizhou had asked her out the week before, ambushing the taller girl as she tried her hardest to memorize her lines for sbs, but yujin immediately said no.

still, kazuha didn't care. at least not right now.

yujin shot minji a look, begging her to reason with her girlfriend just this once.

minji frowned. "unnie."

"she was being mean to me." y/n reasoned.

minji didn't budge, gesturing at kazuha who was now ignoring yujin. she watched as the taller girl tried to get her members attention, but to no avail.

sighing, y/n nodded.

"sorry, yujin." y/n frowned. "yujin reject her, anyway."

kazuha's lips twitched into a smile.

"really?"

yujin nodded as y/n buried herself into minji's arms.

yujin and kazuha were gross (but y/n knew that she and minji weren't any better).

y/n watched as her leader followed kim minju around, tailing her like a puppy following it's owner.

beside her, minji shook her head, part of her cringing at the thought that she was (and still is) exactly like chaewon. she knew how it felt like, to feel like the girl that you were so in love with didn't love you back.

all minji could remember was how awful she had felt back then, when she stupidly thought that y/n had felt something for yujin.

she hoped that chaewon was smarter than her, that she could avoid the stress and heartbreak she felt at that moment.

minji sighed, grabbing her girlfriend's hand. "do you think she's ever gonna figure it out?"

y/n could only shrug, chaewon was as dense as her, if not worse. there was a chance that le sserafim's leader would only figure it out once it was too late.

the kim looked at sakura and chaeyeon, the two eyeing minju and chaewon closely.

there was no way they were going to let that happened.

"maybe later when kkura-unnie and chaeyeon-unnie force them under the mistletoe."

"someone should do that with haerin and dani." hanni hummed, nursing a red solo cup that held nothing but fruit punch. she rested her head on hyein. hanni didn't need to look, she already knew the contents stirring inside the younger girl's brain.

"not you, weirdo."

"why?" hyein whined. "i've behaved all night."

minji glared, pulling y/n into her arms. "you wouldn't let go of my girlfriend."

to minji, it was the truth. all night, she had to watch her girlfriend near hyein, hogging her girlfriend and holding her close, all the thing's that minji should've been doing.

in reality, it had only been one instance where hyein had done that, and it was when the two had been paired up (and won against yunjin and kyujin) in the whisper game.

"she's mine."

hyein shook her head. minji shouldn't have taken that drink from yujin. now, she was slightly tipsy, acting territorial.

minji felt a light nudge on her shoulder, turning her head to come face to face with y/n.

"baby, it's your turn." y/n whispered. minji nodded, taking the controller and arguing with kyujin over who was going to play kirby this time.

y/n turned to hyein, an apologetic smile on her face.

"don't worry about her too much, hyein-ah."

"i won't." hyein sighed, opening her phone as she started typing away. "i'll keep this in mind for the toast though."

"what toast?" y/n tilted her head.

"when you guys get married?"

y/n felt herself flush, her face turning bright red.

"what?"

as if nothing happened, hyein went back to texting on her phone. she ignored the curious stare from y/n, wondering what hyein meant with the toast.

hyein was always weird, but y/n couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of minji proposing to her.

y/n squinted at the lamp sitting on her desk, illuminating the room with its bright light.

the others had all been asleep in the living room, two queen sized, inflatable mattresses taking up the entire space. it was suffocating, in all honesty. no matter how hard y/n tried to sleep (or how close she tried to get to minji), it was nearly impossible.

she needed to get out of there.

"chaewon-sunbaenim said i'm not allowed in your room." minji hesitated, feeling her girlfriend tug her inside.

"it's my room." y/n whispered back, closing the door behind her as minji looked around. the dim light made her face glow in the dark, like an angel that had descended from heaven. "it's not like you haven't been in here before."

minji nodded, ignoring the gnawing fact that she had only been inside when chaewon was out.

"did you have fun?" y/n asked. "i know unnie can be a bit over protective but-"

"i did." minji smiled.

it didn't matter if she was in the middle of nowhere. as long as minji stood next to y/n, the young idol would always enjoy her time.

kim y/n was her joy, and that would never change.

"good." y/n sighed in relief. "i'm glad."

minji's eyes gleamed in the dim light of the lamp shade, her irises trained on the girl in front of her. she felt herself scratching the side of her thumb, peeling off the skin. all minji's emotions seemed to bubble up in her chest.

this was it.

"it's been a year." minji had rehearsed this, just like she had rehearsed everything.

"yeah." y/n nodded, watching minji squirm in her bear onesie. "it went by so fast."

minji had snuck the present in here somewhere. she had hid it amidst the ruckus that was the second round of uno (kazuha, y/n, chaeyeon, minju and haerin). she could see it from where she was standing, the bag sitting on her girlfriend's desk.

minji kissed her, tasting the same vanilla lipgloss that the older girl had always worn, the one that shimmered against the light as they laid on her bed.

this was it. minji couldn't mess up now.

"i love you so much." but this wasn't part of what she practiced. she wasn't supposed to be overwhelmed like this. minji didn't understand why she always felt a surge of emotions, of love next to the older girl.

it terrified her, but somehow, she was okay with it.

"why are you crying?" y/n asked, minji relishing the touch of the older girl's fingertips as she wiped her tears away.

"i don't know." minji muttered, smiling slightly as y/n captured her lips once more. the young idol sighed. "sometimes, i feel horrible for the way i treated you."

y/n shook her head, "i treated you worse."

looking down, minji remembered all the times that y/n had ignored her. she remembered all the times that the older girl had sneered, rolling her eyes and ignoring the girl.

but minji had also remembered everything else, like how y/n looked at her that day, when min heejin had berated the older girl.

she was nothing like minji, and although minji loved that about her, it had broke y/n that day.

minji had no excuse, and she knew that from the beginning.

"still." the young idol shook her head, looking down at her feet. she didn't know if it was the singular shot that yujin had made her take or the guilt, but minji felt it in her soul. "yours was valid, but i had nothing to go on. i just hated you to hate you."

she loved y/n more than she had hated her, and now, the thought of hating the love of her life gnawed her down, especially as the rings sat on her girlfriend's desk.

"even if you did, that doesn't matter anymore." y/n said, kissing minji's forehead. "right now, you love me, and i love you. i forgive you, kim minji. i always will."

all that ever mattered to minji was y/n.

y/n's eyes looked into her own, her irises shining, swirling in happiness and love. minji didn't understand how one person could make her so happy, just like y/n didn't understand how one person could make her feel like she was capable of doing something right.

this was it.

the younger girl nodded, grabbing bag on the table. she handed the bag to y/n, praying that her hands didn't tremble.

"i, um," minji could see the velvet boxes as she looked down. "i got you something."

"what?" y/n frowned. "minji, i thought we agreed that we were only going to get one present. you said-"

"i lied."

y/n wanted to refuse. minji had always treated her too kindly, giving her gifts left and right, as if she had all the money in the world. although the older idol never felt indebted to her, she wished minji had thought about herself more.

but the older girl couldn't disappoint minji.

slowly, she opened the bag, reaching for the piece of paper, folded neatly with a heart sticker holding it closed.

y/n couldn't help but smile.

minji and her stickers.

the kim opened the letter, her heart beating out of her chest. she wondered if the girls outside could hear it from where she stood, or if minji, standing in all her beauty, could hear it too.

y/n shook her head, taking a deep breath as she began to read.

unnie, i'm not good with words, but i don't know how else to express this. i love you so much. whether you're a kim or not, whether you're mine or not, i'll always try my hardest to make you smile. i hope you carry this ring and know that it's a piece of me. i hope that when you look at it, you'll be reminded of all my love, and not who i was before. i promise to love you for as long as i can. - kim minji.

y/n could feel the air escaping from her lungs.

she glanced at minji, grabbing a singular box with her initials engraved on it. she opened it, the gold shining into her eyes.

it was simple, just how she liked it, but it was intricate enough to be special.

y/n loved it, just how she loved minji.

"are these...?"

promise rings. y/n didn't have to finish her sentence for minji to understand.

"yes." minji whispered, her voice slightly shaking. "they are."

y/n threw her arms around her girlfriend, tears streaming down her face as she felt the younger girl pull her impossibly closer.

"i love you." y/n had never felt it more in that moment.

"i love you too." minji smiled.

y/n pulled back, watching as minji grabbed the box in her hand, taking the ring and placing it onto the older girl's hand.

"i promise to always love you."

minji had never lied to y/n in her life, and she wasn't going to start now.

"i promise to always love you too."

y/n wasn't honest from the start, but she knew this time it was different. y/n could feel it in her heart.

minji leaned in this time, feeling the comfort that was her girlfriend. her mouth placed briefly but firmly against the older girl's brought her nothing but happiness.

this was it.

minji didn't mess up.

"happy new year, unnie." minji muttered against her mouth. "thank you for smiling at me."

"happy new year." y/n smiled, placing another soft kiss on minji's lips. "thank you for being the reason for my smile."

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taglist (CLOSED)!!

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surrogate-fawn · 2 months

Text

The Purple Butterfly

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory of a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's second surrogacy.))

{This drabble is Part 3 in a series of drabbles based on the story Mitty and I co-authored. This story will not make sense without reading the ones that come before it.}

[ Part 1 - The First Goodbye ]

[ Part 2 - Quartz and Sea Glass ]

[ Part 3 - Here! ]

Author's Note: A real-world initiative is mentioned in this story called The Purple Butterfly Project.

TW: Miscarriage, infertility, mentions of cancer, mentions of past abuse, pregnancy complications, past stillbirth/infant loss, grief and heavy emotional trauma.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living with the Tariqs, I got to experience what it was like to be around a baby after it was born -- and every pounding headache that came with it.

Suri was a little spitfire as soon as she hit the atmosphere, and if she was unhappy the whole house would know it. The farmhouse wasn't all that big, and the guest room where I slept ended up sharing a wall with the nursery. So, you can bet I got woken up each time her parents did.

Those first couple nights, I would lay there in bed until Ray or Tess could stumble their way down the hall and quiet things down. Yeah, I wasn't very useful. I didn't have much of a choice, though. It was a miracle I could walk myself to the bathroom with how sore I was after Suri squirmed her way out of me.

It wasn't just soreness from the waist-down, either.

Being around a constantly crying newborn had an . . . unexpected effect on my body. After the birth of my son, aside from a little bit of colostrum, I had never produced breastmilk. I guess hearing Suri cry to be fed every few hours triggered something, because I suddenly had a full milk supply with nowhere to go.

Luckily, the Tariqs had a home remedy for everything. A couple of wet washcloths over upturned bowls in the freezer made some conveniently-shaped ice packs. Without those puppies, it felt like my breasts were filled with molten lead. So, my hands were occupied most of the day.

I felt guilty, watching either Ray or Tess get up from the couch to tend to their daughter while I was able to sit there with my hands on my boobs and continue watching TV.

I wasn't Suri's parent, but the fact I was the one who got her there made me feel like I had to help out.

Once I started to recover, that's exactly what I did. On a night when Suri refused to stop crying, I got up and poked my head through the cracked nursery door.

Tess was there, looking exhausted and defeated as she held Suri on her shoulder. That baby had been screaming in her ear for at least half an hour. She jumped when she turned and saw me in the doorway.

"Hi, Tess," I said with a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, doll," Tess sighed, continuing to bounce Suri up and down while she paced the room. She spoke a little louder than she needed to, likely 'cause she couldn't hear herself think. "I'm sorry she woke 'ya. I got no idea what 'ta do."

She sounded like she'd given up. This was how she was spending her night, and she'd resigned herself to it.

I thought about waking Ray, but his paternity leave ended in the morning. He had to be up in a few hours for his civil engineering job. Even with what little I knew about salary work, I knew eight weeks of unpaid leave for a brand-new baby was bullshit. Ray would've taken the full twelve weeks, but the city was jumping down his throat about finishing the blueprints for an overpass project on-time. Tess was about to be left alone with a two-month-old for the sake of ten fewer minutes of traffic. That wasn't fair.

"Tess, lemmie take her for a while," I said, walking into the room. "You need a break."

"It's fine," Tess insisted. "She'll calm down . . . eventually."

I held out my arms. "Tess. Give 'er."

The purple bags under Tess's eyes made her look twice her age, and her pale yellow hair was a rat's nest hanging down her back. She was at her wit's end. "Okay."

Suri weighed almost nothing as I settled her against my shoulder. It still amazed me how small babies were. They seemed so much smaller when you actually got to hold them.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked Suri. My ear started to ring as she wailed into it, her cries high-pitched and distressed. I started patting her back like I'd seen her parents do. "What's wrong, baby girl? What's got you so upset?"

Tess collapsed into the glider in the corner of the nursery, her hands rubbing circles into her temples. "I've changed her. I've fed her. I've prayed over her. I've got no idea what my own baby needs!"

"Well, I've got no idea, either," I shrugged, my toes digging into the soft sherpa rug by the crib. I continued patting Suri's back. Her feet were pressing against my chest, as if she were trying to pull herself upright.

"But I'm supposed 'ta know!" Tess whimpered. She ran her fingers through the knots in her hair. "I'm her mama! Mamas are supposed 'ta know what 'ta do, but I can't even calm her down!"

"You're not a bad mama, Tess," I said, offering her a smile -- despite the continued screaming in my ear. "Trust me, I know what a-."

The screaming was cut short with a small 'gurk', and I froze when a wet glob of spit-up slithered down my back.

". . . think I figured it out . . ." I said, my smile now pinched.

Suri grumbled, and I carefully held her out in front of me. Her face was still red, but her expression was pure baby bliss -- milky spittle on her chin and all.

"Did you have a tummy ache, baby girl?" I asked. "Is that what was wrong?"

Tess shot up from the glider, sending it bumping into the wall. "Oh, Fawn, I am so sorry!" she said, taking her daughter out of my hands. She took the burp cloth off her shoulder, as if suddenly remembering it was there, and handed it to me. "Here, clean 'yaself up."

"S'alright," I chuckled, cringing as I wiped up the gobby mess. "I've got other shirts. At least I got her to stop crying."

Tess looked down at the baby in the crook of her arm, and then back up at me. "Wanna try a hand at gettin' her 'ta sleep?"

Long story short, that's how I found my new job as the Tariq's live-in babysitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wasn't expecting to do surrogacy again, at least not for a long while. The Tariqs were paying me a decent wage for domestic work and were kind enough to not charge me rent -- so long as I was saving a certain amount of the money each week. The last post I ever made on the surrogate agency's forums was an announcement celebrating Suri's successful home birth. After that, I let my profile go dark.

Not only did hiring me allow the Tariqs to keep their promise of helping me on my feet, it also gave them an extra set of hands around the house while Ray was at work. Tess and I worked out a system where I would work on smaller tasks while she took care of the most pressing matters. If she was feeding Suri, I was cleaning the kitchen. If she was cooking dinner, I was changing a diaper. If she had to do yardwork, I was keeping Suri entertained.

I learned to prepare formula, wash bottles, change diapers, and play peek-a-boo like a pro in no time.

Bath time was always a tag-team effort, though. Suri was a splasher, and her favorite bath toy was a rubber turtle called "Squirta Turta", so we usually ended up as soaked as she was.

When Suri was being weaned off formula, we made homemade baby food with the vegetables in the garden. Turns out, placenta makes a great fertilizer. I wondered if Mom had ever used it in her flower beds -- she'd had five of them to work with by the time all of us kids were born. I wished I could ask her. I wished I could ask her about a lot of things. I also wished Suri could eat her mashed squash without trying to wear the bowl as a hat, but I didn't get that wish, either.

This was my life for two wonderfully chaos-filled years, and I was mostly content with it.

Mostly.

I wanted to go to college. That was always my plan for after high school, but . . . plans had obviously changed. My grades hadn't been anything to brag about, so I knew from the start I'd have to pay my own way through. I had two years' worth of savings, but I didn't want to dip into it, yet. That money was meant to be the down payment on a house someday. What would be the point of spending all my money on school if I'd be right back to square one afterward? That wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to get my degree and start my life over -- I'd been waiting long enough.

After sitting down with Ray and breaking down the costs of school, I realized I barely had enough to pay for one term. There were some small scholarships I could apply for here and there, but I wasn't about to rely on winning them. There were hundreds of smarter students out there vying for the same pile of money. What chance did I have?

I mulled it over for several days without saying a word to anyone, but eventually I made up my mind. When I did, Tess was the first person I told:

"I'm gonna get pregnant again."

I announced it out of the blue as I was helping Tess with the after-dinner dishes. She was at the kitchen sink, washing. I was at the counter, drying.

The steel wool in her hand scraped to a halt. "Pardon?"

I hunched my shoulders a bit as I toweled off a plate. "I'm gonna find another couple that needs to 'rent a room'. It'll be able to pay for my degree. In full. All four years."

Tess continued washing, but she didn't acknowledge what I'd said at all.

"So . . . what do you think?" I prodded, setting stacks of dishes in the cabinet.

Tess grimaced into the soapy water, concentrating way too much on the pan she was scrubbing. "Shug, I dunno," she said. "Do 'ya really wanna do that 'ta 'yaself so soon?"

"Whatd'ya mean 'so soon'?" I scoffed. "Suri's up toddling around the house. Isn't that when most moms get pregnant again?"

"'Ya ain't a mom, yet, Fawn," Tess said, her tone lovingly blunt -- the tone that can only be learned by disciplining a toddler.

I flinched a little, but I crossed my arms over my chest to hide it. All she'd done was state a fact, but it still bit.

"I'd like to be," I mumbled. I gazed out the kitchen window and saw Ray out in the backyard with Suri. He was blowing bubbles, and she was reaching up to grab them with high-pitched screams of laughter. She chased them as they swooped lower to the ground, and then stomped on them with her tiny flip-flops when they touched the grass. "Someday."

"I know, doll. That's why I'm concerned." Tess set the pan on the drying rack. "Pregnancies are risky. Wouldn't 'ya rather have as few of 'em as possible?"

"I've had two and they went just fine," I said with a shrug. "I'm young, Tess! Isn't now the best time to use what I got? I can charge more, now that I've got experience. No student debt and money left over to save for a house! Trade nine months in exchange for the rest of my life? How could I pass that up?!"

Tess didn't say anything for a long time, she just dunked a chili pot in the dishwater and started scrubbing. I stood there in uncomfortable silence until she said:

"School can wait, 'ya know."

"No, it can't!" I protested.

"Ray and I can pay what 'ya need for classes when we start tryin' again," Tess said. "What on Earth's the point?"

"Point is," I huffed, leaning my hip against the counter, arms still crossed over my chest, "I'm almost twenty-four and I've got nothin' to show for it!"

"Fawn, 'ya gotta think about-."

"I'll still be able to help you guys out, Tess," I added. "Don't worry about that."

"It's not us I'm worryin' about," was her deadpan response.

It was frustrating as hell, but I wasn't too angry at her. I knew why she wasn't a fan of the idea.

The three of us had recently discussed growing their family in the future. The Tariqs wanted to wait until Suri was a little more independent before welcoming a second baby, so that plan was at least two more years out.

Following that conversation, we'd decided not to return to the surrogate agency we used the first time. The agency was helpful with the fine print and legal stuff, but the Tariqs had not been too thrilled to learn that a desperate, homeless, childless young woman had been allowed to become a surrogate of theirs.

"I can do it independently," I said, pleading my case. "I know how to be careful."

Tess turned to lock eyes with me. "Fawn . . . I just need 'ta know you're doin' it for the right reasons. I don't like the idea of 'ya going through all that for nothing but a stack'a cash."

"It's not just for money" I insisted. "I wouldn't go through it again for anyone, not even you guys, if I didn't find it meaningful."

Tess didn't seem any more at ease with my promises. "I just don't want 'ya health 'ta suffer. If 'ya do this, you're choosin' 'ta put 'ya body through a lot in such a short time."

I didn't argue. She was right. "I know."

Tess turned back to the sink, sighing while she rinsed out the pot. My toes curled inside my shoes.

"I want to help another couple while I still have the chance," I said, trying to justify my decision -- partially to myself. I could sense how strong Tess's disapproval was, and it was giving me serious second thoughts. "If I can't be a parent right now, I want to make it possible for other people to be parents. It makes the wait feel . . . less long."

Tess dried her hands on her long bohemian skirt and turned to gently hold my shoulders. "Doll, it's 'ya own choice. Ray and I can't stop 'ya from doin' whatever it is 'ya wanna do."

I nodded, my eyes cast down. I didn't need their permission, nor had I been asking for it, but some support would've been -- .

"Just know that we'll be here 'ta help 'ya," Tess continued. "Anything 'ya need, just ask. If you're gonna do this, I want 'ya as healthy and happy as possible."

I nodded again, this time with a smile on my face. "I'd appreciate that."

Tess wrapped me in a hug. "But please, shug," she added, patting my back, "don't put 'yaself through too much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Easy there, doll. I've got'cha."

Tess held my curls back as I wretched into a blue emesis bag. I'd started growing my hair out in the months it took for this surrogacy to be arranged. I hadn't been thinking ahead.

I'd thought I was in the clear after I had to have Tess pull over on the highway so I could vomit up breakfast, but the antiseptic smell of the hospital kicked up my nausea again. I'd made it through the halls, but by the time I'd sat on the exam table my stomach had enough.

I choked on thick saliva and spit a mouthful of colorless bile into the bag. "Okay . . . okay, I'm good now," I spluttered as I lifted my head. I cinched the bag and handed it to the technician without looking them in the eye. "Sorry."

"Don't be," the tech laughed, "morning sickness is par for the course in here. I'll be right back, just make yourself comfortable." They dragged the privacy curtain closed behind them as they left the room.

Tess wet a paper towel in the hand sink for me. My skin was clammy and cold even before I wiped the towel across my face -- so I wasn't left feeling any better. My hands had a tremor so deep inside the tendons it registered as numbness. I raked my front teeth over my tongue to scrape away the acidic taste.

I hadn't really needed that blood test. I'd known the IVF had worked when I woke up clinging for dear life against the Earth's rotation. My head hadn't stopped spinning since, and it was two damn weeks later. The doctor overseeing my IVF had sent me in for a six-week ultrasound -- which was earlier than I'd ever had one done before -- because my hormone levels were "suspiciously high" this time around. Whatever that meant.

I'd been pumped full of fertility drugs like a chicken with GMOs for a solid four months by that point. No shit my hormones were off the charts, especially now that I was pregnant.

"It's never been this bad," I groaned, coughing on the burn in my throat.

"Yeah, that's why the doctor wants 'ya in here," Tess said with a chuckle.

"I hate it," I scowled. "I want the old morning sickness back."

"Each time is different," Tess said. "I had it once or twice before, but when I was pregnant with Ravi it never really went away." Any time Tess mentioned her angel baby, a little bit of the light left her eyes -- and I saw it happen again right there in that ultrasound room.

Tess helped me pull off my jeans and tucked my discarded underwear inside the back pocket for me. I covered my hips with the paper blanket just before the tech came back into the room.

"Looks like we're ready to start!" they chirped, taking their seat between me and the rolling ultrasound cart.

"Hang on a sec," I said, pulling up the FaceTime app on my phone. "The parents really wanna see the first ultrasound."

"Ah," the tech said with an understanding nod, "is this a surrogate situation?"

"My second time," I said with a proud grin. I pointed at Tess, who was folding my pants over the back of a chair. "I carried her baby first. Most amazing thing I've ever done."

Tess beamed at me. She was smiling, but the shadows on her face were a bit deeper than normal.

"Really now!" The tech exclaimed, keeping their peppy tone as they typed my info into the computer. "It's rare I see surrogate mothers as young as you. Bless your heart!"

"She's a trooper, that's for damn sure," Tess said, "but, God love 'er, she's been so sick."

"I'm sure your care provider can prescribe something for that at your follow-up ," the tech told me. "It won't feel this bad for much longer, sweetheart."

"It's worth it, though," I said. My phone bubbled with the ringtone of an outgoing video call. "These guys will be amazing dads."

The tech smiled at me. "I have such respect for traditional surrogates. That's a lot of sacrifice."

"Oh, no," I corrected them with a small hand wave. "This isn't traditional. These are the bio parents."

I hadn't willy-nilly accepted the first eager couple I'd found online. I'd put half a year's worth of thought into carrying this pregnancy. The Tariqs always gave me my birthday off, and I'd spent that entire day talking to prospective parents. I wanted to prove to them that I was taking this seriously; if I was doing this just for the money, I wouldn't have cared whose baby I carried. I wanted to vet my options and choose a couple that I well and truly felt honored in helping -- and the Gillespies were exactly that.

My phone screen flashed with a mixture of bright pixels before the video came into focus. An odd pair of men sat beside each other in what appeared to be either a kitchen or a dining room -- perhaps it served as both, they lived in a small condo. One was a tall, tanned athlete with a dark stubbly beard and a sculpted figure rippling beneath his loose-fitting tank top. That was Silas. The other was a willowy, ramen-haired man with thick blue octagon frames on his glasses and the quote, "It's only a passing thing, this shadow" from The Two Towers tattooed on his forearm. That was Owen.

"Hey, guys!" I said, holding my phone up and giving them a wave.

There was a slightly-too-long pause due to lag, but both guys lit up with smiles and greeted me in unison. I saw the tech looking at the screen from the corner of my eye. I could see the math trying to play out in their head.

"You don't mind if we record this, right?" Silas asked. They must've been watching from a tablet, because he reached his finger under the camera and swiped a few times as if he were checking a separate app. As he lifted his arm, a crescent of silvery scar tissue became visible from under his shirt.

I saw the tech look back to their computer with a subtle nod of their head. God love 'em, they must've been too nervous to ask.

"Go ahead! It's a special occasion," I said. "I'm gonna hand you over to Tess. We're about to start."

"Yay, Tess!" Owen said with a clap of excitement. He waved as I passed my phone over. "Hi, Tess! Where's Ray?"

"Hi, boys," Tess said with a soft grin. She adjusted herself to be closer to my side. "Ray's workin' from home today so he can watch our 'lil darlin'."

Of course the Tariqs had wanted to meet my new clients. They said it was because they wanted to vouch for me as a caring and capable surrogate; but I think it was mostly to judge the couple for themselves. The Gillespies had both Tess and Ray's number as my emergency contacts, which came in handy when they needed help with some legal paperwork.

Silas and Owen were my age, both of them twenty-four. They'd poured all their savings into the process of hiring a surrogate and had none left over for a lawyer. At the Tariq's behest, all three of us had stayed up late on a call to talk the Gillespies through the steps of writing a surrogacy contract. Silas and Owen seemed to hold a lot of respect for the Tariqs after that.

While Tess had the camera on her, I reclined on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. The paper blanket gave plenty of privacy -- which was good, because I didn't want my clients to see the long plastic wand the tech was prepping while it was in there doin' its thing. I'd never had a transvaginal ultrasound before, but apparently it was the only way to get a view of the Gillespies' baby so early.

I couldn't help but tense as I felt the rounded tip of the wand slip inside me like butter, aided by the warm jelly I was used to having on my belly. I could feel the blood flooding my face as the curved device slid under my public bone and pressed against a part of my anatomy that hadn't been reached in years -- though not for lack of trying, I had short fingers.

"Relax a little more, please," the tech said.

"Sorry . . . not used to this."

Don't judge me. I was living with my employers. The idea of one of them finding an adult toy in my room -- or worse, their daughter finding it -- made me shrivel.

I felt a subtle buzz inside my tissues when the device turned on. I bit the inside of my cheek.

"Okay, let's have a look at that baby," the tech said as they began angling the wand.

Tess flipped the phone around so the dads could see the action. I saw Owen grip his husband's bicep and pull him closer. The room was silent for a moment while the technician moved the wand around my pelvis.

"Can we listen to the heartbeat?" Owen asked, hugging Silas's arm.

"Not yet," the tech said, eyes glued to the screen. "Their little heart is only a few cells big right now. It's too quiet to pick up, but we'll hear it in a few weeks."

Owen and Silas shared a grin. I could see their story written on their faces and in the way they looked at each other. They'd been dating since high school, the odd-ball pairing of bookworm and athlete. After graduation, a preemptive doctor's appointment before Silas started testosterone saved his life:

Cervical cancer, stage two. The doctors had no choice but to take everything, but Silas chose to freeze a few of his eggs before the surgery. He'd gotten into non-competitive bodybuilding to deal with the effects of chemo, and it'd been his favorite hobby since. Luckily, Silas had been cancer-free for years -- Owen had gotten his first and only tattoo in celebration.

Now that they were newlyweds, the Gillespies were choosing to start their family right away -- knowing the frozen eggs wouldn't last forever. We'd lost a lot of hope when most of the eggs didn't thaw right, meaning we only had one shot at this. The Gillespies were more than open to adoption, but . . . having a baby together was something they'd hoped for since before Silas's diagnosis.

I'd known I wanted to step up to the plate as soon as I heard their story. I was proud to be helping such a sweet pair of guys have their much-wanted family. When I saw the way they looked at each other in that moment -- the excitement and love of a dream finally coming true -- I secretly hoped doing this for them would grant me some sort of karmatic favor.

I hoped one day I'd share that same ecstatic smile with someone, for the same happy reason.

The tech hadn't said anything for a while. They kept moving the wand from side-to-side between my hips and squinting at the screen. They took several images, judging by how often they hit the same loud button on their keyboard. They hadn't even turned the screen around, yet. I couldn't wrap my head around the baby being so hard to find -- not with the ultrasound wand jammed so far up.

"Are they hiding from 'ya?" I asked with a joking lilt. Something was starting to sink inside my chest.

"No, I see them," the tech said. They squinted harder at the screen. "Just taking their picture for the doctor."

"That's a lot of pictures," Silas commented from my phone speaker.

"Well, I . . . just want to make sure," the tech said. Their keyboard clacked as they took another image.

It felt like I'd swallowed lead. "Sure of what?"

The tech finally tilted the screen so the rest of the room could see it. In the grey-and-white fuzz on the monitor, a round dark void was highlighted in a bright yellow square. Resting in the void was a blurry white bean with a small flutter in the curve of its shape.

"So, here's the gestational sac," the tech said, outlining the yellow square with their cursor. They circled the cursor over the fluttering movement. "That's baby's nice strong heartbeat right there."

"Silas, oh my god!" I heard Owen cry. "Look! We made that!"

The tech turned the wand slightly and the image on the screen rolled to the left. The same black void and white bean slid into view, except now it was upside-down. The tech once again circled their cursor around the flutter. "And this is another nice strong heartbeat."

"They have two hearts?!" I gasped in panic. I realized how stupid I sounded after it was too late. "Or is it . . . ?"

The tech flicked the wand from side-to-side, and each time they did a little black void with a bean remained on the screen. It took a few back-and-forths for me to realize those weren't two different angles of the same image.

"Holy shit . . ." I wheezed. My hand covered my throat, as if that would loosen the strangling tightness that was setting in. "Holy shit . . ."

“What? What’s wrong?” I heard Silas ask, his voice glitched and laggy.

“Boys, can ‘ya see?” Tess asked, holding my phone closer to the screen. “Can ‘ya see that?”

I wanted to turn my head and see the parents’ reaction, but I could not move my eyes from the ultrasound. The Gillespies were quiet for a minute as the tech continued to swivel the image from side-to-side.

“How many embryos did you transfer?” the tech asked.

“There were only two that made it,” Silas answered. I could sense the moment reality washed over him. “Wait . . . wait, are they both there?!”

“Yep,” Tess said. I have no idea what emotion was in her tone, but it had a glaze of forced excitement. “They both took root.”

“I can’t quite get an image of both of them,” the tech said. “I’m trying, but it looks like they’re on opposite walls of the uterus. That flipped one is way up there, too. They’re hanging onto the roof like a bat.”

“A bat bean,” Owen said. His voice was flat, like the quip was a reflex.

“So . . . twins, right?” Silas asked. “We’re having twins?”

“Congratulations!” the tech chirped.

My pulse was pounding under my hand. That lump of lead was sitting hard in my guts, right alongside those two tiny beans. Two. Two beans. Holy shit. Two.

Tess turned the phone towards me and I saw the moon-eyed shock on the Gillespies’ faces. “Fawn, honey?” Tess prodded. “Wanna say something? What’dya think?”

“I . . .” My saliva felt thick and hot in my mouth. My tongue fell numb and it nearly flopped down my throat as I shot up on the table, my legs still up in the stirrups. “I think I’m gonna be sick!”

Tess jumped for a trash can. She aimed the camera at her face while I loudly wretched in the background of my clients’ first family video.

“This explains a lot,” Tess told the fathers with a sheepish grin. “Two times the baby, two times the morning sickness.”

The Gillespeies were quiet for a while, an awkward pause with only the sounds of my suffering to fill the void.

“We’re having twins, Owen,” Silas finally said, just as I was pulling my face from the trash.

“Yeah . . . wow,” Owen’s voice answered.

I heard a subtle thumping from their end, like one of them was bouncing their leg. The tempo was frantic.

“What’s wrong, Owen?” Tess asked. She held the phone to be more level with her face.

All I heard was a harsh sniffle.

“C’mere, you big softie,” I heard Silas say.

“Don’t cry, honeybun,” Tess said. “It's a blessing!"

“I’m happy!” Owen insisted over the phone. “I’m so happy!” His voice was muffled, like he was hiding his face in his husband’s shoulder. “This is . . . whew! This is overwhelming!”

“No kidding,” Silas said with a laugh.

“No fucking kidding,” I said with my head in the trash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days for the shock to wear off. The anti-nausea pills cleared my head so I felt less like I was walking in a fever dream. Once that edge was taken off, it made reality slip in a little smoother. I was pregnant with twins. There were two little jellybeans inside me that would be two full-sized babies in eight months. That was fine. Yeah, that was fine. That had to be fine. If it wasn’t fine, I was going to start losing my mind! So, it was fine.

I mailed the printouts of the ultrasounds to the parents. They had the digital pictures I took, but those physical copies were what really mattered to them. The three of us had never met in person. They lived hundreds of miles away, in Michigan. They wouldn’t be flying down to Tennessee until it was nearing my due date, so any physical memento of their babies I could send to them was much appreciated.

I wanted the Gillespies to feel included in my pregnancy as much as possible, even if they couldn’t be with me in-person. Each week I’d take a picture of myself turned sideways in the bathroom mirror and sent it to them. I basically sent them the same picture four times in a row. There was nothing much to show except for the tummy flab I’d collected my first two times around the block. By week ten, though, I could feel that familiar little lump starting to form below my navel. I had slightly too much of a pooch for there to be any trace of a bump, though.

Almost three months in, I was surprised by how normal my pregnancy was – aside from the intense bouts of nausea I relied on my medicine for. I’d thought having twins inside me would up the difficulty level, but up to that point my life had changed very little. I still got up every day to housekeep and nanny for my allotted shift, and I did so with the same ease I did before. The only change was how much of an eye Tess kept on me. It was very annoying.

“Fawn, no!” Tess trotted up beside me and took hold of my hips. “‘Ya don’t need ‘ta be up there.”

“Stop it!” I gasped as the stack of plates in my hand jittered. “Don’t grab me like that if you don’t want me to fall!”

Tess gently pulled me down from the stepstool I’d been using to reach the cabinet. “I can take care of those,” she said, taking the stack of dishes.

“Jesus, you’d think these were your babies,” I muttered.

“It’s easy now, doll, but you’re not far off from those little ‘uns hittin’ a growth spurt.” Tess climbed the stepstool and I rolled my eyes behind her back at the oh-so-dangerous foot and a half of height she stood above. “I can go ahead and take over the chores ‘ya need help with.”

I shrugged, lifting my hands and then letting them slap down onto my thighs. “Alright. Want me to take over Suri while you handle the dishes?”

“Yes, and I’ll be wiping down the countertops and stove with bleach. So, I don’t want either of ‘ya in here until I say so.”

“Right. Grabbing snacks.”

Arms full of Cheerios, applesauce pouches and beef jerky, I joined Surinder in the living room. She was watching one of her preschooler shows on TV from inside her pop-up play tent. Her toys were strewn all over the floor – the living room had become her territory and she marked it with Duplo blocks and miniature plastic food.

I bent over to start picking up and I grunted when the ligaments around my waist pulled tight. Tess was right about the babies, I hadn’t gotten round ligament pain so early before.

It wasn’t long before Suri crawled out of her tent and patted my leg to get my attention. “Fa! Fa!” she called my name until I turned around and acknowledged her.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Go! . . . Go potty!”

“You gotta go potty? Okay, let’s go-oh!” I winced as I stooped to pick her up, my hands flying to my sides. There was that ligament pain again. I rubbed my hands into my lower belly, trying to work out the tension in my stretching muscles. “Let’s walk to the potty.”

I kept feeling that growing pain. I got a charlie horse in my back as I was helping Suri in the bathroom. That nerve-deep pain flared up in a ring around my hips as I sat down for dinner, but a slight adjustment in my posture made it nothing more than an annoyance. I went to bed that night safe in the knowledge I would wake up to another day of normalcy.

I woke up to my alarm, bright and early as always. I woke up to that ring of pain around my hips as I stretched out under the covers. I woke up to the sensation of wet fabric, something sticky plastered against the curve of my rear and up my lower back. I woke up to blood, both crusty brown and damp red, on my pajamas and sheets.

I woke up wanting to scream. Instead, I tip-toed past Suri’s nursery and padded down the hall to her parents’ room. I knocked once before opening the door. I was like a child needing to be comforted from a nightmare, appearing in the Tariq’s doorway and softly whispering their names until they stirred.

“Ray? Tess?” I leaned a little harder against the doorframe as I watched their silhouettes sit up in bed. “Can one of you drive me?”

Tess yawned. “Where, doll?”

“The ER.”

With the yank of a chain, Ray’s bedside lamp clicked to life. I didn’t need to scream. Tess did it for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray held my hand while we waited in the emergency room. I’d cleaned up and changed clothes – Ray had lent me a pair of his sweatpants, just in case I bled through my pad. All that remained of my pregnancy was sealed in a sandwich box on my lap. Tess suggested I take the large clump of blood and tissue I’d found in my underwear with me for the doctor to look at, but I hated holding that box knowing someone’s lost dream was inside.

Tess hadn’t come to the hospital with us. She stayed at the house until her parents arrived to take Suri for the day and then met us in the waiting room. I sat between them, resting my head on Tess’s shoulder while both of them wrapped an arm around me. We waited like that for over an hour.

Most of that day is a scrambled signal in my memory. There was a lot of waiting. A lot of fluorescent lights and white-beige walls. We watched TV together in the room they put me in, but I don’t remember what we watched. Only one memory of that ER visit is clear:

A nurse came in and confirmed what we already knew. They’d found the stringy prototype of a placenta in the tissue I’d passed, along with one of the gestational sacs. That was concerning, though. One. They’d only found one of the twins. There was a possibility I needed surgery, so they had to go in and see what was left. The Tariqs weren’t allowed to follow me as I was wheeled down to radiology.

The ultrasound room was dark and warm, the only light coming from the idle monitor of the computer. It was easy to close my eyes and drift into a trance as the tech smeared gel over my lower belly. I’d been scheduled for my next ultrasound in two weeks. I didn’t think I could handle seeing how empty I was.

“Did everything clear?” I asked, resting my hands over my sternum. Even if I didn’t want to see it, I still wanted to know if they were gonna have to scrape me out.

“I can’t say for certain until the doctor has a chance to look at these,” the tech said. “I’m just here to take pictures.”

I wished this was the same tech from my first ultrasound. I could’ve used their friendliness.

“I stopped cramping a while ago,” I said, “so hopefully it’s over.”

The tech rolled the wand up from my groin and I felt it press on the solid lump in the front of my hips. They were pressing hard – trying to get a good image, I assume – but eased off as they moved the wand just below my navel.

“Ope, no. Wait,” the tech said, “there’s the other one. Gosh, that one is way up there.”

Bat Bean. That’s what the Gillespies and I had been calling Baby B. We’d been calling Baby A “Jellybean”. I wondered what their real names would’ve been. My throat closed up and I had to stop wondering.

“Oh . . . my . . .” the tech said, nearly in a whisper. Then, much louder: “Well, hello there, little guy!”

“What?” I asked, opening one eye in hesitation.

I saw their face in the light of the monitor, saw the crescent moon of a smile below their reflective glasses. “It’s kicking!”

“What?!”

My neck arched and suddenly I was staring at the high-def image of a grey gummy bear on the screen. Nubby limbs twitched as the oval-shaped body curled and uncurled, swimming around its bubble of fluid like a tiny fish. The bulbous head turned and I watched in utter amazement as Baby B’s whole body flipped over in a summersault.

The tech hit a key and a steady whop-whopa-whop-whopa played as a line of white peaks and valleys appeared below the image. “And we have a heartbeat!” they announced, all monotone gone from their demeanor.

I must’ve been in a state of shock, because my memory after that moment is almost entirely blank. I have a vague recollection of signing some paperwork and a surgeon standing over my bed, listing off possible side effects. I remember a needle going into my arm, and then my memory is a void.

My memory restarts at the point I woke up in the recovery ward. Please understand that before this point, I had never had any kind of knock-out juice. I’d never had surgery before. So, please don’t make fun of me when I admit that I woke up crying. My vision was blurry, my head was in a vice, my anti-nausea medication had worn off, and it felt like I had a cactus in my vagina.

I saw a silhouette at my bedside, a woman’s silhouette with a ponytail of dirty-blonde hair. For a second, I thought my mom had forgiven me – I thought that someone, somehow, had reached her. I thought she cared enough to be worried about me. I reached out to her, craving to feel her hold me again. I felt horrible. I wanted my Mama to make it all better.

“M-om?” I mewled, my mouth slow and dry.

I touched the woman’s arm, causing her to turn towards me. She wasn’t my mom – just a nurse who styled her hair the same way. “No, sorry. I’m not Mom,” she said softly. “She’s probably waiting for you outside.”

I knew she wasn’t. I felt more tears trail down my neck.

“Just lay back and try to wake up a little more,” the nurse told me, “then we’ll let your family come back and see you.”

I dipped in and out of a fugue state, gradually returning to reality as the drugs wore off. Although I couldn’t remember much before surgery, I was inately aware that my cervix had been sewn shut. There was no telling what had caused me to lose Baby A, but Baby B was still considered at-risk. Sealing the exit shut was the best bet to keep ‘em in there. The fact I was still pregnant at all after so much blood loss and cramping was miraculous. Just to be safe, they hooked my IV up to something that would stop my uterus from contracting.

When I was awake enough to feel hungry and ask for food, the Tariqs were allowed to come sit with me in my cubicle of curtains. Tess sat on the side of my bed while Ray tried to nap in his chair. It’d been nearly twelve hours since we arrived at the hospital and we were all exhausted. I barely had the energy to lift spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup to my mouth. After I’d gotten some broth and crackers down my throat, and Tess and I had run out of small talk, Tess leaned in and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered into my ear. “I know what you’re feelin’, and it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

They weren’t empty words – far from it. Tess had been where I was time, after time, after time. Only, for her, it was worse – those lost children were her own. Then . . . there had been Ravi. I didn’t want to imagine how his loss had felt. Well . . . perhaps I could make a light comparison, but I at least knew my son was alive and well somewhere. I wrapped my arms around Tess in return, blinking back tears.

“No, Tess,” I said, my face covered by her long flaxen hair. It smelled like her mint shampoo. “I’m sorry you went through this so many times.”

Tess held me tighter.

“Have you told them?” I asked.

“No. We wanted ‘ta hear what the doctor said first,” Tess said. “Everything’s lookin’ okay with the baby right now, but he wants ‘ya on bedrest.”

“Can you . . . please call them for me? I don’t want to hear them . . .”

“I will,” Tess said, patting my back. “I’ll go outside and let them know.”

“If they ask which one it was . . .” I sniffled and choked back a small sob. “. . . tell them we lost Jellybean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I continued to send the Gillespies bumpdates every week. I never missed a single one. I continued mailing them printouts of their baby’s ultrasounds. We never talked or chatted about what happened, nor did we discuss medical updates about Bat Bean. For those, the Gillespies waited for either Ray or Tess to contact them. I didn’t want them to associate me – the woman carrying their one and only child – with talk of heartbreak and loss. I wanted Silas and Owen to be excited when they saw an email from me, not dread clicking on it. Ray and Tess stepped up to be the bearers of heavy news for us. My doctor had me going in for ultrasounds every two weeks, which meant a lot of baby pictures from me and a lot of medical updates from the Tariqs.

My stomach remained flat for quite a while, with just the slightest bump in my lower belly for weeks. But one morning, around fifteen weeks in, I swear I woke up looking like I’d swallowed a cantaloupe. I guess the baby had finally hit that growth spurt Tess had predicted.

His name was Milo Bennet Gillespie. Silas and Owen named him shortly after we discovered he was going to be a boy. Owen was a fan of classic books who worked at Barnes & Noble, so I had no doubt he was the one to choose the middle name. Sometimes we playfully referred to Milo as “Bat Bean”, but that nickname faded out in favor of his real name. I worried over him – a lot. I bought a home doppler online so I could check if his heart was beating. Whenever I noticed he hadn’t moved for a while, I would pull up my shirt and rub the doppler on my bump until I heard the whoosh of his pulse. The doctors kept saying everything was looking good with him, but I worried.

I was essentially given leave of my housekeeper duties until Milo was done cooking. The doctor wanted me off my feet, so I spent most of my days on the couch watching cartoons with Suri. She was observant enough to ask about my big belly in her two-word-sentence manner. Unsure how to explain the situation, I told her there was a small person living in my stomach and that his name was Milo. I even took her tiny hand and let her feel where Milo was wiggling around. She didn’t like that very much, it freaked her out and she ran to her mother. I didn’t want her to get excited for a baby that wouldn’t be coming home with me. That wouldn’t be fair to her . . . or to me.

It wasn’t the best experience, being pregnant without the baby’s parents there. When I was growing Suri, her parents were there with me at every doctor’s visit. They took me on day trips just for fun and to make sure I had enough to eat. They were able to put their hands on my belly to feel their daughter kick, and put their lips close to my skin so she could hear their voices. Milo didn’t have that. His daddies were hundreds of miles away. They’d never felt him squirm around, only I had. He’d never heard their voices close-up, just over the phone . . . maybe. The clearest voice he’d ever heard was mine . . . and my voice wasn’t going to follow him home.

Although I had the Tariqs there to support me and love me, I felt alone in my pregnancy. Milo was just a little visitor in the household – we had no toys or bedding or bottles for him, all of that was with his fathers. After he was born, no one would mention him – his future didn’t involve us at all. I was the closest thing to a mother Milo would ever have . . . and I wasn’t going to be a part of his life.

It was an experience I’d had before, with the last baby boy I’d held under my heart.

It took a toll. It really took a toll.

Before I knew it, I’d blown up big as a barn. I no longer had a lap when I sat down, my belly nearly reaching my knees. Milo was a big boy – the doctor estimated he was around nine pounds – and he was squishing all the fluid in my body into my lower half. My legs were hot and heavy and my feet were too swollen for my shoes, so I shuffled between the bathroom, kitchen and couch in flip-flops. God, I hated being on my feet. I spent my days either dicking around on my laptop – using my belly as a desk – or watching TV while sprawled out on the couch.

Surinder got really upset with me one day, when I refused to play tag with her. Ray and Tess were very mindful of how much Suri “bothered” me, but I never considered it bothersome. I loved Suri, she was practically my niece. I was sure to let her know that I wanted to play with her, but my “belly buddy” was making me too tired. I made up for it with lots of hugs and kisses, and I promised that once I was feeling better we’d play tag as much as she wanted.

As soon as I hit thirty-seven weeks, I was on high alert. I’d warned my doctor that I delivered before my due date at least once before, but he wanted to keep Milo in there until he was full-term. So, he refused to remove my stitches. As miserable as I was, I agreed. I wanted Milo to bulk up as much as he could, even if it added to my discomfort. If I could give Silas and Owen a perfect, healthy baby . . . maybe it would make up for what happened.

My body had failed one of their babies – and so help me God I was gonna force it to nurture the other! I was determined! I would make it to forty weeks!

Yet, I would not.

I pulled myself off the couch one afternoon to grab a snack and my knees almost folded. I leaned against the arm of the couch as a deep downward motion slid over my organs. My lungs were slowly relieved of their crushing burden and they eagerly filled to their maximum. I lifted the weight of my belly with one desperate hand because I had a blaring instinct about what was happening.

“Milo, don’t you dare!” I muttered under my breath.

Like a Duplo block clicking into place, Milo’s head slipped into my hips. My belly visibly dropped, I felt it shift to hit heavier in my hand. Almost immediately, I felt the baby’s heft sitting directly on my sutured cervix. I groaned and pressed my thighs together. The pain throbbed between my legs, sharper than I’d ever felt.

“Hey, Ray?” I called, knowing he was upstairs in his office.

“Yeah?” his distant voice rumbled through the ceiling.

“Can you bring me my phone?” I called. “I need to call the doctor.”

A few minutes later, Ray thumped down the creaky stairs with my cellphone. He paused when he saw me leaning over the back of the sofa, kneeling with my thighs apart. “You okay?” he asked, handing me my phone.

“I need to call the doctor and tell him I need my stitches out, like . . . tomorrow,” I said, unlocking the screen. “Milo’s in my hips, he’s not gonna wait another two weeks.”

Ray rubbed my lower back, scratching his goatee in thought. “Is he going to wait until tomorrow? You’ve been having cramps, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re irregular as hell,” I said, putting the phone up to my ear. “I’ll be in labor soon, but not that soon.”

I was wrong. I was so wrong. I was so horribly wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Silas? Hi. Yeah, it’s Ray.”

“Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

“We have a situation. Fawn’s having contractions and you boys need to get on a plane right now.” Ray ground his knuckles into my back while I wailed face-down on my bed.

I gripped a bag of frozen peach slices in a towel between my thighs. My arms hugged all my pillows to my chest beneath me, and I buried my head between them to yell my way through this latest contraction. My belly was squeezed into a perfect sphere, peeking out from under my shirt as it hung down to my mattress. The contractions were actually pretty mild, all things considered. They didn’t hurt that bad at all.

However! My body was forcing Milo down hard against my cervix. That pain was far, far worse than the contractions. His head was grinding against a closed exit, but the sheer force was spreading that exit open anyway. The baby was a battering ram and my cervix was a fortress door, splitting apart around its locks and bars with every slam.

“Fuck, I want these stitches out!” I cried into my pillows. “I want them out!”

“Yeah . . . yeah, you can get a refund on the tickets you already bought,” Ray continued on the phone, and on my back. “I’ll book a room for you, don’t worry about that. Just focus on getting here. Bring an overnight bag for each of you and some basics for the baby. I’ll pick you up from the airport, don’t bother with an Uber.”

Tess walked into the room, a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder and her hair thrown into a messy bun. “Everything’s in the car,” she said. Her hand squeezed my shoulder until my posture relaxed and I lifted my head from the pillows. “You ready to go have a baby, ‘shug?”

I nodded. Tess helped me to my feet and I waddled down to the car doubled over and holding my belly up. Even without a contraction, the pry and pull on the strings holding my cervix closed was constant. My seam was literally about to pop. I had to recline the passenger seat as far as it could go so I could somewhat lie on my side. My contractions were regular, but very far apart; so, thank god, I didn’t have to deal with any while cramped in the car.

My chest tightened when we pulled into the hospital parking lot. I knew I’d be having the baby here. I’d prepared for it, but thinking about it was so different from doing it. Because of the complications with this pregnancy, I had no choice but to deliver in the same maternity ward I’d walked into years ago. I . . . didn’t like thinking about what I went through in that ward.

Tess came around to my door to help haul me out, but I didn’t move. I stayed on my side, staring at the clouds hovering above the cars – they were painted with the summer sunset.

“‘Ya want me ‘ta get a wheelchair?” Tess asked, leaning on the open car door.

“Yeah,” I sighed, resting my cheek on my hand. “Tess, I don’t wanna go in there. I wanna do this at home.”

Tess looked over her shoulder, scanning the hundreds of windows looming ten stories over us. “Me neither,” she said, then turned and hustled toward the hospital entrance.

At eleven-thirty that night, I found myself sitting on a birthing ball in a stagnant delivery room. The only light was the yellow wall lamp mounted over my bed – anything brighter and my head would pound. A monitor belt was pulled snug around my belly, leashing me to a gaggle of machines beside the bed. An IV bag of pitocin hung from a hooked pole beside me, the tubes trailing down to a needle taped in place on the back of my hand.

I bounced on the ball, my hands braced on Tess’s knees while she sat on the side of the bed in front of me. I felt my torso squeeze and held my breath. The monitor beeped, registering a contraction.

“Blow the pain out,” Tess crooned, ghosting her fingertips up and down my arms.

I grabbed her knees and rotated my hips on the ball. A small “Ack!” bubbled up from my throat before I sucked air in through my nose and forced it out through pursed lips. I blew hard until my lungs went flat, then filled them again and continued the process. Salty water leaked from my shut eyelids and slid in thick droplets down my neck and back. I blew so I wouldn’t scream. I knew I could scream, but I didn’t want to come unglued only a few hours into active labor. Hell, my water hadn’t even broken yet.

I could still be in control of myself, even if this birth was not going according to plan.

I was hoping labor would be smoother after the stitches were out, but they’d only caused more complications. I’d dilated quickly regardless of the sutures, already three centimeters open when the doctor snipped the strings. He’d gotten to me too late, though. The stitches had ripped small tears in my cervix as Milo’s head pulled them apart. The swelling was immense – within minutes I was sealed shut again and my labor stalled. Hence, the pitocin.

The pitocin hijacked my body, forcing it to crush inward on itself like a soda can in a hydraulic press – at a strength and speed beyond what felt natural. I had never felt labor this intensely! I would desperately cling to any self-control I had in that beige nightmare of a room.

“Mmmmh,” I hummed through my nose, my hip swivel morphing back into a bounce as the contraction eased.

“Good job,” Tess grinned at me. “You’re doin’ so good, Fawn.”

I moaned and leaned back, bracing my hands on my hips as I rode that birthing ball like a rodeo star. “Have they landed yet?”

“Doll, they ain’t on the plane yet,” Tess said. “The only direct flight they could book on such short notice leaves at one-fifteen. Ray’ll call us when they take off and when they land.”

“God,” I huffed, my chin falling onto my chest. “They gotta be here. They can’t miss this!”

“Everyone’s doin’ their best and that’s the only thing they can,” Tess said. “It’s only an hour flight. They’ll be here in time, don’tcha worry.”

My hair had grown past my shoulders during my pregnancy, and it was suffocating me. I lifted my auburn curls off my flushed neck to cool down. Tess watched me for a moment before pulling the elastic band from her hair. A cascade of blonde fell down her back, sun-bleached highlights vibrant even in the low light. Without a word she came ‘round and gathered my frizz into her hands. A few flicks of the wrist and she had my hair up in a damp, poofy bun.

Tess kneaded the back of my neck for a while. I rested against her, letting her work my muscles like dough. Milo kicked, causing a dull ‘thump’ on the doppler.

“Fawn,” Tess broke the silence, “there’s nothin’ wrong with askin’ for pain relief.”

“Don’t want it.”

“Doll, I can tell it’s hurtin’ like hell. You’re hooked up ‘ta stuff that could rocket a foal out’a ‘ya.”

“I’m. Fine.”

“Just ‘cause ‘ya managed before doesn’t mean-.”

“I don’t wanna be stuck in that bed!” I cried. “I don’t wanna lay there like a lame horse ‘til they strap me up in stirrups! I’m NOT doing that again!”

I pulled away, using the bed’s railing to lift myself to my feet. My hand wrapped around to support my lower spine, exposed by the untied loops of my hospital gown. Tess picked up the absorbent pad on the birthing ball, folding it over to hide the bright spot of blood where I’d been sitting. I saw it, but it didn’t scare me – I knew it was from all the swelling. She retrieved the pink water cup from the table and let me drink from its straw.

“I had my baby here, too,” she finally spoke. She sat back down on the bed and smoothed her hand over the starchy sheets. “The beds feel the same.”

“Ravi was born here?” I rocked myself from foot-to-foot, holding onto the railing to keep steady. “I didn’t know that.”

“Four years ago as of January,” Tess said with a nod. “I was in here a few months before ‘ya, ‘shug. Who knows? Maybe they had us in the same room.”

God. Had it been four years already? I had a four-year-old somewhere out there and he had never seen my face. What toys did he like to play with? Did he watch the same preschooler shows that Suri and I watched together? What were his favorite foods? I wanted to know all of that. I wanted to know him! I wanted to know the sound of his voice, the color of his eyes, the texture of his hair . . . or his name.

A scar somewhere in my chest ripped open and I swear I could feel a black void pouring over my ribs like paint. I held my breath. Tears dripped from the tip of my nose and onto my belly. I was in so much pain, but not from labor. My soul was bleeding – the wound as raw as the day it was carved.

In my mind's eye, I saw myself reaching for my son as the doctor held him up. I saw my arms cradling his little naked body against my chest while he took his first breaths. I saw my lips pressing kisses into his bald, wrinkly scalp while my eyes cried phantom tears onto his skin.

None of that had happened at all – but it should have! I should have been given the chance to say goodbye – to look into his eyes and tell him how much I would always love him, even if he couldn’t see me. No, not even that. He should have stayed my baby! I should have gotten pregnant by a different man – a good man. I should have been on the pill instead of relying on his father’s cheap, oversized condoms that were probably expired. I should have fucked up my life less. I should have made a thousand better choices, so he could have stayed my baby!

I screamed along with the frantic beeping of the monitor, but all physical pain paled in comparison to the emotional. I’d cried through my heartbreak once before, but being back in that damn ward, in an identical room, brought all my grief pouring back out. Tears and liquid snot flowed down my face as I white-knuckled the bed’s railing to keep me upright. I gulped full lungs of air, only to wail and scream and sob until they were empty.

I think Tess knew my tears were from deeper down than they seemed. She leaned close and gently took hold of my contracting sides. Her palms rubbed large, soothing circles into my hardened womb. Her sympathetic eyes never left my face.

“Good girl,” she crooned. My eyes were blurry with salt water, but I thought the skin around her eyes looked red. “Scream it all out.”

“I want my baby, Tess!” I cried. “I . . .” my shoulders jerked with a sob, my diaphragm spasming from lack of air. “I n-never got to ho-hold him!” Another hiccup. “H-He’s going to think I . . . think I didn’t w-want him! But I . . . I wanted h-him so much!”

“Hushhh,” Tess shushed me. She wiped my face with the scratchy hospital blanket. “Hush now, doll. Calm ‘yaself down and get some air in.”

“Okay,” I nodded, still choking on sobs and panting for breath. “Okay . . . okay . . .” The awareness of the contraction began creeping into my brain. “Ohh . . . ohh . . . oh, shit!”

Blinded with tears, I threw my arm out to grab onto Tess. I balled her shirt collar in my hand and restarted my “blow the pain out” technique.

Tess continued massaging the sides of my belly, waiting to speak until she felt my muscles start to uncoil. “Are ‘ya sure you don’t want somethin’? I can call the nurse.”

I sniffled and wiped my eyes on my sleeve. Able to see again, I realized I hadn’t been wrong. Tess had been crying. My hand released her shirt, and my arm snaked around her shoulders to pull her into a hug.

“Tess . . . I just want you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three-thirty in the morning. We hadn’t heard anything from Ray, and even less from the Gillespies.

A nurse had been in to check me twice in the last hour. Milo was still in his comfy water balloon and that seemed to be cushioning him from the extra-strength contractions. I nearly started crying again when they told me his heart rate was fine and I could continue to labor on my own. With how damaged my cervix was – and how many liters of pitocin they’d given me – I’d been terrified of an emergency C-section.

By then I’d lost the use of my legs, but I refused to stay on the bed for more than a few minutes – usually just long enough to pull my knees back and let a nurse stick her fingers inside me. With the help of an orderly who’d come to swap out my IV bag, Tess had taken the mattress off the bed so I could have something soft to lie down on without feeling trapped.

I’d taken to half-lying on the floor with my arms and upper body resting on the birth ball. I couldn’t keep myself quiet during contractions any longer. Making low, rumbling noises like a cow in a ball gag was a must. It was how I was surviving. Between those moments, I was just tired. It was a relief that I couldn’t feel my cervix anymore, but that was likely because it had effaced. My eyes were heavy and full of grit, but the sixty-something seconds I had between contractions didn’t allow me to sleep.

At that point, I was beyond the mental capacity to worry about Silas and Owen. Milo and Tess were the only other people who existed in the world as transition’s brutal hand crushed me in its fist.

In hindsight, I think that’s why I didn’t panic when the pressure set in.

Tess was kneeling on pillows on the other side of the birthing ball, humming a lullaby to relax me between contractions. Her tune tapered to a halt when I shifted my hips, one leg pulling up to my side. “What’cha need, ‘shug?”

“I feel him.” I stated it like a bland fact.

My eyes were closed, but I felt Tess’s hand touch my shoulder. We’d already decided what we’d do if this happened before the Gillespies arrived.

“Alright, doll. It’s alright,” she crooned. “Lemmie come around.”

I heard the soft ‘pap pap pap’ of Tess’s socks traveling in an arch around me on the faux wood floor. Her weight settled on the mattress by my feet.

“Promise I won’t touch,” she said. “I’m just eyes.”

I grunted and rolled my leg outward to open my hips. Oh, I knew that pressure so well by that point. I knew better than to doubt my body. More pitocin mixed with my blood, drip-by-drip, through the needle in my hand. I wasn’t sure if someone should’ve removed it by then, but whatever. I was gonna use it to my advantage.

The monitor around my belly beeped. I pressed my toes down and pushed before I truly felt the pain. Milo kicked the doppler again, like he realized he was finally being evicted. After a solid ten seconds, I relaxed with a nasally whine.

“He’s coming, Tess.”

“I know, doll.” Tess gently nudged my foot to a more grounded position. “Soon as I see ‘im, I’ll call a nurse. Ain’t no one gonna put ‘ya in that bed, I’ll make sure’a that.”

I scooted up more into a half-squat, one arm draped over the ball and the other wrapping around my knee. Chin-to-chest, I used the rest of the contraction to bear down against the familiar sensation of a baby sliding down my passage. I took frequent breaths between my efforts so I wouldn’t get dizzy, panting a small “Uh . . . Uh . . . Uh” with each exhale.

I didn’t need to throw my all into pushing, the contractions were doing most of the work. Maybe that pitocin was a blessing in disguise – I don’t know if I had the energy to make progress without it. Five pushes in, and I felt my inner walls stretch around the baby. My quiet whines and grunts escalated into growls as the pain grew sharper, and I flowered open wider.

“Damn, he’s huge!” I moaned as I eased off my most recent push. Forget “Bat Bean”, the fucking Chicago Bean was coming out of me!

“Remember, you’re pushin’ out the sac, too,” Tess said.

I hugged my hiked-up leg closer to my side, teeth gnashing in my skull as my face turned purple with effort. “Ugh!” I released a small bark of pain during a brief pause, then spent the rest of the push with a low growl in my chest.

My labia brushed the crease of my thigh, the skin bowing out and preparing to stretch. I felt the inner structure of my clit get crushed as the mass of the baby pressed its way down. It was something I’d felt before in the past during childbirth – but never to the extent that it fired electric shocks of nerve pain down both legs. My toes curled as a ghostly, stabbing pain assaulted the arches of my feet.

I relaxed against the ball with a loud huff of air. “Tess, rub the bottoms of my feet,” I begged, my head falling back against inflated rubber. Thank god she did it without question, I was too embarrassed to explain.

Two contractions later, I was mid-push when a gout of hot water splashed onto the mattress. My focus was broken by the release of pressure, and I leaned forward to peer over my belly. A saw an expanding area of wet sheets between my thighs, darkening the color of the mattress as more amniotic fluid drained from me.

“He’s makin’ his way out, doll!” Tess grabbed the blanket and bunched it up around my rear to soak up some of the mess. “You’re openin’ up!”

“Ahh!” The arm holding my knee in place flew down to pry open my leg, fingers pulling at the skin where my thigh met my groin. My body pushed for me and my perineum thinned out and spread over the head as it dropped past my tailbone.

“Fuck, Tess!” I whined, vocal chords straining. “Fuck, he’s hurting me!”

“Take it slow,” Tess said, patting my thigh. “Let it stretch.”

I arched back against the ball as my lips bulged outward with the size of Milo’s head. The arm draped over the ball was numb, but it was the only thing keeping me upright. The room reverberated with a roar I didn’t realize was mine as I felt that all-too-familiar fire blaze to life. My entire world shrank down to that inferno between my legs. The only thought in my head was to push down into it. My fingertips migrated beneath me, pressing against the hellfire in my perineum as the flesh pulled dangerously tight. I was aware Tess got up from the floor, but I was blind and deaf to the world.

The ringing in my ears muffled the sound of the door bursting open. My eyes flew open in surprise as a gloved hand gently nudged my fingers aside and cupped my perineum. A scrubbed nurse knelt in front of me, a mask covering her face from the nose-down – but even then, her eyes smiled at me.

“Good job, Fawn!” the nurse praised me. “Baby’s crowning. You’re nearly done!”

I flinched when someone else took my leg and hiked it up to my side. It was Tess. I finally understood she must’ve run and got help. I thought I heard a cell phone ringing, but no one else reacted to it. I accepted the fact I was hallucinating.

I threw my arm around Tess’s waist, unaware my fingers were coated in blood, and held tight as I pushed again. I gasped deep and screamed as I felt myself make quick progress once the top of his head breached the air.

“Don’t stop, doll. He’s comin’,” Tess said, her lips brushing my scalp.

Sweat stung my eyes, so I kept them squeezed shut. My whole body trembled, my nerves going haywire as Milo surged forward with a massive, unstoppable push. I felt the little bump of his nose traveling through the pouch of my perineum. The nurse palmed the crown of his head, trying to let me stretch easily over his brow.

A loud slam caused everyone to jump, and the bright light of the hallway sent a migraine through my skull. The nurse turned to scold the two men scrambling into the room, but Tess saved the day:

“They’re the parents!” she cried. “They’re stayin’!”

I couldn’t pay attention to anything going on around me. With a roar of effort, I bore down until I heard the wet little ‘shlip’ of Milo’s head pushing free into the nurse’s hand.

“Owen! Silas! Here, now!” Tess ordered.

I heard two more bodies thump to the ground beside the floor bed.

“We’re so sorry, Fawn!” I heard a familiar voice yell – a voice that belonged to a man I’d only ever heard through the static of a screen.

“Later, Owen!” Tess snapped. “Focus on your baby right now! Do not miss this!”

I didn’t care about anything – I knew this baby was on his way out right then and there! Nothing else in my mind or body would function until he’d made his journey earth-side! I clung to Tess, who pressed my leg back wider as Milo’s thick shoulders started to press out of me.

“Push, doll. Push on ‘im hard,” she encouraged me softly, her voice like warm honey.

The nurse began pulling down on the baby, forcing his shoulder to pry my public bone out of place to come through. I don’t quite know what the sound I made was, but it didn’t sound human. The nurse pulled upward, and . . .

“And we have a baby!” the nurse cheered as Milo’s body gushed out onto the mattress. A small trickle of leftover fluid followed his feet.

“Holy shit.“ My whole body relaxed as soon as that relief came.

My eyelids slid open when I heard that little guy make the sweetest newborn cries I’d ever heard. For a big baby, he had a small voice. Thin, blonde baby down was plastered to his scalp, and even while he was all squished and blotchy I could tell he looked like Owen.

“Oh, look how sweet!” the nurse sing-songed while she toweled Milo dry. “Isn’t he a perfect little man?”

A second nurse mysteriously appeared in the background. I peeked around Tess and saw the extra nurse fanning Silas with a laminated paper while he sat slumped against the wall, looking dazed. Owen kept looking at his husband over his shoulder, but his attention was constantly pulled back to his son.

“Oh . . . hey, guys.” I sleepily waved to the fathers. “When did you get here?”

Owen glanced back at Silas, who was rubbing his forehead and seemed to be coming around. “Just in time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I flipped through the pictures in my phone while I rode home with Tess. Milo and I had stayed in the hospital for a few days for observation. I’d needed a few internal stitches (wow, real shocker there) and they just wanted to keep an eye on Milo because of his troublesome gestation. At first, there was a little bit of concern because of how lethargic he was – but his bloodwork was fine, so I guess he was just a sleepy lad. He wasn’t awake in any of the pictures the Gillespies and I had taken.

There were countless photos of Milo being snuggled by all of us. Ray and Suri had popped in to see me the morning after I gave birth – mostly for Suri’s sake, she’d woken up crying over not being able to find me at home. I had a picture from that morning of Tess holding Milo in the room’s armchair while Ray held Suri up so she could see what my “belly buddy” looked like. Suri somehow looked confused, disgusted and amazed all at once. My favorite picture was the one Tess had taken of me and the family together. I was sitting up in bed and holding Milo while Silas and Owen sat on either side of me. All of us – except Milo, who was asleep with a binky in his mouth – were smiling wide at the camera.

One of the first pictures in my album was of Milo swaddled like a burrito a few hours after he was born, fast asleep in the baby cot beside my bed. His name, weight and time of birth were written on a card taped above his head. Beside that card was the paper cutout of a purple butterfly.

In Silas’s first picture with his miracle baby, he was pale as death but still smiling. He’d needed to sit down for a while after passing out, but he’d held his little boy nearly every minute in that chair. He’d held Milo while they performed his medical tests, only allowing the nurses to take him away for his first bath. In the picture I’d taken after that, Silas was gazing at Milo with all the love in his eyes that a father could give – and Milo was wrapped in a fresh blanket with an embroidered purple butterfly on the corner. The Gillespies had brought that blanket with them.

At first I’d thought the purple butterfly cutout was just a decoration choice the hospital had made; but when Milo’s first gift from his parents had the same image, I’d asked why it was showing up so often. Turns out, that hospital had adopted The Purple Butterfly Project – an initiative that offered support for patients who had lost a child in a set of multiples. The cutout on Milo’s cot was meant to celebrate the life of his “flown-away” twin, as well as make staff members and visitors aware that he was the wingless half of a pair. It took on the burden of explanation, so Silas and Owen could bond with their son without worry.

My phone buzzed with a new message from my clients. It was a selfie Owen had taken of himself and Silas at the airport, with Milo snug in a sling around Silas’s chest. The picture came with the message: “Thank you for blessing us so deeply! We hope the joy you’ve given us will be repaid – with interest! Milo is going to be showered with love every day of his life. You’re more than welcome to keep in touch with our family, Fawn. We’re happy to let you watch Milo grow up with us. Love, Owen and Silas.”

I locked my phone and sat it face-down in my lap. “Hey, Tess?” I asked, watching the road unfurl beyond the windshield as we traveled the rural roads. “When will it be my turn?”

Tess glanced at me. “For what?”

“Being happy,” I deadpanned. “I’ve made three different families happy. You and Ray, the Gillespies . . . and my son’s parents. I just wanna know when my turn is.”

The rest of the car ride passed in total silence. When we parked in front of the farmhouse, Tess turned to look at me while she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Doll, there’s somethin’ I want ‘ya ‘ta see.”

Going upstairs was a herculean task with how stiff and full-body sore I was, but Tess held my hand and walked with me step-by-step. She brought me into the master bedroom and sat me down on her side of the bed. Tess opened her bedside drawer and pulled out a wooden box that was roughly the size of a checkerboard. She plopped down beside me and stared at the box in her lap for a moment before saying:

“I haven’t opened this since we brought it home. I couldn’t. But . . . I think now’s the time.”

I watched as Tess lifted the lid of the box, revealing a carefully folded fleece blanket with pastel stars printed on it.

“What is it?” I asked.

Tess lovingly took the small blanket in her hands and began unfolding it. Beneath the layers of fabric was a blue crystalline teddy bear sculpture holding a silver heart between its paws. Tess picked up the bear and held it in her palm – that’s how small it was.

“This is Ravi,” she said.

Once light hit the silver heart at a different angle, I saw the engraving on it: “Ravi Idris Tariq”, with a single date underneath. Tess turned the bear over in her hands so I could see the second engraving on its back: “I carried you every second of your life.”

“I wrapped ‘im in his blanket,” Tess said, her thumb stroking the bear urn’s head. “It made it feel more like I was puttin’ him down ‘ta sleep instead’a . . . y’know.”

I was too stunned to speak.

Tess set the baby blanket in the box and – tiny urn still in-hand – got up and walked to her closet. A quick rummage, and she returned with a different fleece blanket. This one was pastel rainbow colored and was covered in white stars, an inverse of the other.

“These came as a set,” Tess said. “We donated everythin’ he never got to use, except for this. This one’s special.” She rubbed the blanket on her cheek. “I prayed over this one. I asked Mother Gaia ‘ta allow my baby’s spirit ‘ta be linked to this earthly object, so that I could hold it and it would be the same as holdin’ him.”

Tess re-joined me on the side of the bed, clutching Ravi’s urn to her heart while she cuddled and kissed the rainbow blanket. “I still miss ‘im. I miss ‘im a lot,” she said. “Having this connection to him helps.”

After a minute, Tess set both blankets and the urn inside the wooden box. Then, she took my hands into her own.

“Neither of us got ‘ta hold our little boys,” she said. “Mine was already in the arms of Mother Gaia, and yours was in the arms of his mama before you had the chance. That’s what’cha told us, right?”

I nodded, silent and enraptured. Tess smiled at me.

“Well, when you’re feelin’ more ‘yaself, I’ll teach ‘ya how to use my sewin’ machine,” she said, giving my hands a gentle squeeze. “You’ll pick out the fabric and you’ll make a baby blanket. That’ll be his baby blanket, ain’t no one else’s. I’ll ask Mother Gaia ‘ta bless it for ‘ya. When you feel all that love buildin’ up with nowhere to go, hold it. Hold your baby. He’ll be able to feel it, no matter where he is.”

I returned her smile, but my throat was almost too tight for me to speak. “I’d like that.”

We made a small shrine for Ravi’s urn on the mantle that night. Ray and Tess had Suri help set it up, explaining the existence of her elder brother to her in a way she would understand:

“Mama had a baby in her belly just like Fawn did,” Ray said, lifting Suri up so she could drop a few cut flowers from the garden beside the tiny blue bear. “That was before you were born. You were just a twinkle in Mama’s eye back then.”

“Where the baby?” Suri asked as her father plopped her back down.

“This is the baby,” Tess said, tapping on the silver heart between the bear’s paws. “He had ‘ta go back ‘ta Mother Gaia while he was still in my belly. This is where his body sleeps.”

I lit a few jarred candles and placed them on the mantle. From my back pocket, I pulled out the laminated purple butterfly cutout that had been taped to Milo’ cot at the hospital. I placed it upright against the mantle wall, so that two purple wings appeared to be sprouting from Ravi’s bear.

It wasn’t my turn to be happy, yet. I had a long way to go before I could start making my own dreams come true. Maybe school could wait a while. Maybe the money I’d earned throughout my surrogacy could be put to better use.

Maybe I was sick of staying on the path my own stupid choices had led me down. Maybe it was time I started making the choices I’d wished I’d made earlier.

I was tired of living in the shadow of grief Alexander had cast over my life. I’d lost everything because of him . . .

. . . but I was ready to start taking it back.

~ END ~

#Fawn Drabbles #birth kink #labor kink #mittysins #RP Drabble

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elmhat · 6 months

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// dsmp rp

"sunset" — a drabble based on @hiding-in-the-vault's power trio au

“Hey, can we stop for a second?”

Sapnap and George turned back to Dream. As tired as he might be, as tired they all were, Sapnap still had the wherewithal to be suspicious. “Why would we stop?”

“Well, I mean, just— I think it'd be good.” Dream looked out over the vast fields they had just traveled through, to the dense patch of forest they were about to enter. It would be dark soon.

Sapnap looked at Dream like he had murdered his family. “This was your idea to find Punz, bro, you’ve gotta have a better reason than that.”

“Look, I— Fine, it doesn't matter!”

“No, it fucking matters now! What is it, what's up?”

“Sapnap,” George interjected. From behind Sapnap, he yawned theatrically, as he had been doing for the past several hours.

“What's in the forest, Dream?” said Sapnap, eyes narrowing. “Do you know something?”

“No!” Dream insisted. “You’re— ugh, I was just thinking that, like, maybe it would be nice if we, like… saw the sunset.”

Dream actually, physically recoiled at his own words. Fuck, did that sound dumb. He was tired, he was aching, he wasn't thinking straight. Sapnap was just frowning back at him with that specific brand of confused anger. Like a big, stupid ravager.

“The sunset?”

“It was dumb! Okay? I get it!” Dream shook his head. “Forget it.”

Sapnap didn't look any less confused. For far too long, he studied Dream’s face so intently that it felt like he could see through the mask, searching for the lie that wasn't there. Dream wished there was one.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” said George. “I'm not walking anymore.” Without any further conversation, he went and sprawled out on the grass, gazing up at an orange sky. Not the muddy orange of Dream’s hidden prison jumpsuit, but a vibrant, pretty orange. The color of life, not death.

With a shrug at Sapnap, Dream made his way to George’s side, half suppressing the wince as he sat down. He drew his knees up to his chest.

“No way you're serious,” said Sapnap, but Dream didn't respond. He was too tired for this argument; hopefully, Sapnap was too. But Dream still kept his hands free, hovering near his axe, just in case. Nothing was worse than getting complacent.

It felt so good to finally be sitting down. They had been walking all day, dragging themselves from one side of the server to the other, and while that wouldn't have bothered the Dream of the past, it was undeniable that he couldn't go half as long as he used to without several breaks. Which was fine, he could manage, he had come this far. It was just frustrating.

The sky really did look amazing right now. Between fleeing bases and collecting scraps of his old resources, Dream hadn’t thought about sunsets once since his escape, but something about being around George and Sapnap brought back the urge. It was more nostalgia than anything; the hours and hours they had spent outside as kids, camping out after dark when they knew they shouldn't. It would sound stupid to say that the color reminded Dream of Sapnap’s eyes, but here he was.

Eventually, Sapnap relented. Dream heard the clank of armor as he thumped down beside him, jostling around a bit before exhaling deeply through his nose. After that, the whole world went quiet. It wasn't as awkward as it should be.

“What are you really doing with Punz?” Sapnap finally asked him, tone hushed and weirdly soft.

Dream didn't look at him; he couldn't take his eyes off the sky. “I can't tell you that,” he whispered back.

“He revived you.”

It should have been an accusation, but there was no heat to it. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dream saw Sapnap nod. “Dream, listen.” A gentle hand on his arm made him look up at Sapnap’s face. “If this is gonna work, if we’re gonna actually work together, you need to tell me what's happening. Punz is whatever, you have your old secret shit, but from now on? You’ve gotta share, dude.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Dream.

“No. Clearly, you don’t. I’ve gotta look after myself here, and George too. You’re not gonna lead us into some bullshit that’ll get us killed.”

Sapnap was looking at him like he was in pain. Dream broke eye contact; something twinged inside of him. “I'm sorry. About— that.” It was obvious what he meant. “For not telling you.”

Staging the betrayal with Punz, orchestrating Sapnap’s grand hero moment behind his back—that had been rough. As necessary as it was, just as much now as at the time, it didn't fully take out the sting, not even for Dream. Sapnap certainly wasn't taking it well. One day, maybe, he might understand the importance of it all. After all, it wasn't like Dream was the first of their little group to betray the others.

Dream couldn't tell Sapnap everything, but he could tell him some things. He could tell him about threats and traps and elements of plans that didn’t require too much prying to understand. That was more than before. As hard a pill as it was to swallow, there just wasn't the same trust that there used to be. Not after Sapnap killed him.

“That works both ways, though,” Dream told him. “You have to tell me stuff too.”

Hesitantly, Sapnap nodded. “Of course.”

They left it at that.

It was nice being able to talk to Sapnap like they were friends again, even if it was only a mirage. Dream couldn't let himself get used to it. They would both be fighting again tomorrow, and eventually, it would end up being more than just words. But the past year had taught him a lesson, and he had learned it well: the cruelest thing to endure was false hope.

#c!dream #c!sapnap #c!george #dreblr #power trio #drabbles #my writing #elm fics

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fumifooms · 4 months

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Marchil crumbs Part 4

Part 1 - Part 2 - part 3 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7

Broskis remember when while madly blushing Chilchuck said he’d introduce his family to Marcille, and she madly blushed back thinking she really really wanted to meet them. Marchil W today

Dreams do come true girl!!

The full double page spread has the rest of the Laios party at the table too but i think having the whole picture distracts from the one just this section tells. Marcille is so happy to finally meet them!! Flushing with joy and awe! And chilchuck flushing right back with self-consciousness!!! Desperately trying to keep it casual. Tsundere man probably going "Ok so... This is Marcille my ex-coworker, and here are my daughters... She was really looking forward to meeting you guys but don’t read too much into it girls". The daughters being all dressed up and Puckpatti even bringing flowers and correcting Meijack hehe <3 I know it's because they're at the castle but omg, meeting the extended family energy. You knowww Marcille is gonna ask them so many questions, and try and get to know them…

Also I have remembered TODAY that Marcille has a stepdad… She prob has so many thoughts on being a stepmom then. Leaving it open as to what that could mean for marchil. She certainly acts enthusiastic about families and kids so doesn’t seem like there’s a complex there at least~

How it all started… Not very shippy I just think it’s funny and easy to miss. Her curiosity is PIQUED and what she thought she knew about Chilchuck is shattered. The bicorn chapter is really not long after this one so she must have thought so hard about how his home dynamic was like if she cooked up that ‘if I was Chilchuck’s wife’ rp so soon after & so effortlessly

Hm, you know how snooping into ppl’s personal lives is Marcille’s thing?? Isn’t that like… Not that true outside of Chilchuck though? Like, she never asked about Senshi’s backstory or really asked much of Laios either. We do see her asking their types in romance for example, but from remembrance that’s sort of where it ends. So she concentrates her focus on the nut toughest to crack, the most private and mysterious party member huh (no not Senshi obviously, Chilchuck!!)… Little ‘puzzle to crack’ guy, ‘resistant to being known deeper’ guy. I’m not over how she was salty that he opened up to Senshi more than with her lol

I think I’ve talked about it in the previous crumbs part but I think the bircorn chapter truly is the marchil chapter, and I wanna point out how Chilchuck reallyyyy fell from her esteem because "he cheated on his wife", leading to her being snippy with him during the chapter, BUT when push comes to shove she still hurried to his aid and worried for him and all. This might sound surprising, but I really like this! I think it’s great that Marcille wouldn’t coddle him if he fucked up and showed him a taste of consequences™️, but also not dropping him fully y’know, sticking through thick and thin even if she would not let shit fly. Seems like a healthy sort of devotion or companionship to me! Also her arc through the manga with Chilchuck is warping who he really is with idealization or preconceived notions mostly with his age and whatnot, so this feels like an important turning point of assessing him coldly as an adult who is not innocent at all… Before going right back to seeing him favorably and idealizing him as a great virtuous husband heh. It’s ok he’s harsh on himself he needs at least one person that believes in him hardcore let’s go <3 I’m going into really debatable grounds about morality and healthy vs unhealthy behavior lmao but yeah!! He recovered in her esteem, but she will not just give up on and leave behind this cringefail ass of a man even if he digs his hole so deep and so hard. He already got divorced once his partner would need some… Strong determination~ More on that right away

Which, what is this "I don’t want to look incompetent and I’ll even claim I’ve done things that make me look terrible to avoid it" because uuuuh, they both do it

Let's finally dig into the shapeshifters chapter! Lots of fun stuff to observe in there. Let's start with Marcille's side. There’s how, of course, Chilchuck's shapeshifter of her has her with sparkly hair with detailled shading, and how the reason she got eleminated was because of the spells in her spellbook don't match at all; Which means that personality wise, she was pretty convincing! We don't see just how well Chilchuck's vision of her match though since it didn't get much far. As we see with Laios’ shapeshifter clones, having an accurate shapeshifter is harder than one could think!

Easier to miss and more interesting though!! "It seems like Marcille B has awfully weak determination hmmm" implying Chilchuck thinks Marcille has a strong will. I think it’s especially telling when hand in hand with Chilchuck in an early chapter going "Oops not good I missed [that taking dead Kabru’s party’s wet food wasn’t the best moral decision], that’s Marcille for you." and such, where it seems like Chil sees her as someone who has strong convictions and admires/relies on her for it in some ways.

Funnily enough Chilchuck’s not the only one being flattering about the other's hair, because Marcille's shapeshifter of him's hair is... Fluffier? Throughout the whole chapter too so not just a one-off or a coincidence. Tempting to pat and carress perhaps? It's confirmed to be her shapeshifter of him with the page about it in the adventurer's bible, and it's the one that gets the furthest in the elimination! The lockpicking tools are, surprisingly, convincing enough, and the attitude is also convincing if not for the true Chilchuck being "nastier" lmao. It's idealization due to the fact she has a hard time stopping thinking of him as young, but in a way she both knows him well enough to be very convincing and idealizes him as being nicer than he actually is, not the worst I’ll take it. "Our Chilchuck is a lot nicer! 🥰" help

Have some more of Marcille praising Chilchuck

Defending her honor part 2

Ok now look at the Nightmares extra… Chilchuck would watch her series with her!! He enjoys her type of stories!! They’re on the same page even about plot points and the emotions each scenes inspire!! They would chat during watch parties!! Also this is something Marcille conjured up in her dreams so like, tbh very impressive. Chilchuck enjoying Marcille’s dream fiction isn’t something I ever expected but it sure happened

This is what a movie date would look like

I now declare lasagna the marchil dish. Seriously though I’m so curious as to what else Chilchuck’s pastas could be here. She’s fantasy italian it works out

What is that look Chilchuck… Is this life advice, love advice or what. Like it’s not just me he’s being a little suggestive right, he’s drawing a comparison to womanizers right- Okok so you, Chilchuck, say exactly what reward you want, so that makes you trustworthy ok got it. Lesson learned and she respects his professional boundaries & reassures him so he doesn’t feel as self-conscious/judged from then on.

Being on the same page and acting in perfect synchrony part 566

Looking out for the other part 307, featuring them panicking out of their minds lol (Chil is better at stress management it seems)

& Keeping the other in check part 255

I truly love how casually they treat dungeon lord Marcille. You may be under mind corruption magic and a boundless beacon of destruction at your whims right not but you’re still our cringefail Marcille and we need to look after you

Look at his smug-ass face at having successfully comforted and soothed her in the team effort

What’chu looking at loverboy. What’s up, is her face too close to you for your comfort?

Alright part 5 presumably NOT coming soon, i finally ran out of stuff to put on these hehe. Maybe the anime is gonna change that though

… And then the anime arrived and I already have stuff for a part 5. See you soon!!

part 5 is here broskis

#HAPPY DUNMESHI DAY #Aka Thorden tuesday #Chilchuck chewsday even #Thank u jojosbizarreventoreo for chilchuck chewsday i shall say it every day of my life #dungeon meshi #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #marchil #Shipping crumbs

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for not telling a player why I'm dropping them from my table?

I am running a D&D game, and it has been going on for a few months. It was intended to be a short game an we only have a few weeks left. When I invited everyone to the game, it was with that knowledge, and with the pre-requisite that they are an experienced player. I established what kind of game it would be from the start.

This guy, Quinn (not irl name) said he met the requests and was excited to play. As we began, it became apparent he was incredibly inexperienced with D&D (not knowing what a proficiency bonus is, not understanding action vs bonus action, etc). All of the players and I were patient with him, and this wasn't a problem. But we did have to shorten goals in the game because he slowed down combat drastically. We were still on a set timeline. My only issue with this was that he lied to me from the beginning.

Many other things were red flags: him getting upset when players couldn't make a session (giving notice), but him showing up late to every session. Dominating rp and not being interested when it wasn't about him, not really listening to me as a DM (I am femme presenting), but listening to my partner (m) who I'm co-running the game with. We had tried to talk to him about issues in the past, and he was receptive and gently corrected his behavior.

Before this recent session, the players made a wild turn and we are rolling with it. But, due to this sudden change, another player asked if we could come back to those side adventures as a 2-3 shot later. I agreed. But Quinn then pushed for us extending the game as a whole. I was very firm that we were ending on the 10th, to respect other people's time. Later, a player had covid exposure, but ended up being negative after 5 days and tests, but I requested everyone wear masks anyway because we had all recently had more warnings of exposure. Everyone else preferred this, except him, who outright refused, and I told him he could call in instead and we'd set up a camera.

These last few things rubbed me the wrong way, so I asked all the other players privately how they were feeling, without goading them by expressing my gripes. It didn't want to start a hate train, only see where evryone was at. I was already of the mind that I would not have him back at my table after these sessions, but would finish out the game with him.

When my players reported back, I found out that Quinn had made the only female player feel incredibly uncomfortable, reaching out to her privately, relentlessly attempting to flirt with her character (which as always shut down by me or even another player). Additionally another player got back to me saying they were very uncomfortable because Quinn had been pressuring them to hang out outside of the game, and not taking "no" for an answer. Various other things were brought to my attention, but those two responses were what made me decide to remove him then and there.

I never spoke to the other players about what each of them had said, so some people were confused because, while they didn't like him much, they thought removing him was sudden.

Quinn blew up in a chat with me and the co-DM, demanding a reason. He messaged me privately with some aggressive claims that he deleted soon after. We called him that night to talk, and told him we'd offer his information to the other players should they want to reach out as friends. I only listened in on the phone call due to the agression in his messages to me.

On the phone, my partner simply explained to him he wass no longer a good fit, and we are doing what is best for our table and players. Quinn berated him for more information, targeting the content of his character and skills as a DM in order to get a reaction, but my partner just told him, "responses were kept private. I will not divulge any more information, but we will no longer have you at our able moving forward."

Quinn's behavior during the call only solidified that this was the right choice (saying we have god complexes, are alcoholics because we got drunk during one game, announcing he'd slander us to the community at the local game shop, reminding that he knows where we work as a veiled threat).

The thing Quinn kept pressing for was asking how he can correct his behavior if he doesn’t know what he did. But we refused to tell him because it would directly out some of our players, who we promised anonymity.

I know I'm not wrong for booting him from the table, but AITA for not explaining why so that Quinn can correct his behavior?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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camcanime · 6 months

Text

I had the craziest angst dream last night

It was based on an RP my bestie and I had been working on but, man, my brain knows how to toy with my feelings. Words cannot express how I felt after having this dream, my heart was racing. (Will do this in the form of x reader coz damn)

That day was a tragedy, a devastation to yourself and everyone who knew you. No one could have foreseen such a thing and, yet, a heavy blame was taken upon the two men who had cared for you most. You were all fresh into beginning your careers as heroes, barely a year out of graduation, and it didn't last long for you. Somehow, a group of especially dangerous villains had managed to get the jump on you. They beat you to a pulp and took you into capture, falling out of the radar and becoming completely invisible to anyone who may have had a chance to save you.

You were held in captivity for almost two years. Two years. They tormented and verbally degraded you to no end. To say it was torture was an understatement. You may as well have been crucified and left to hang amongst the vultures awaiting the sweet, bitter end to life. Unfortunately, these monsters were not merciful creatures. At first, they attempted to coax information out of you, seeing if they could unlock all of the inner workings of the pro heroes and utilise this for their nefarious deeds. When it became clear that you weren't so easily broken, they decided that you would make a decent venting dolly. You sought to escape once.

"That was a big mistake... hero."

Due to your weakened state, they quite easily recaptured you and they were not happy. They could have just killed you. Part of you wishes they did. No. Instead, they opted for a more fitting punishment: they took away your quirk. More ridicule and abuse is all that followed, is all you had to keep your wavering sanity occupied.

You felt close to your end.

An eventual rescue tore you away from your imprisonment but at what cost? You couldn't even discern the reality from a nightmare at that point. Your saviours, some heroes on the other side of the country, made sure that you were immediately admitted to a hospital. The physical wounds were in need of major attention but the mental scars ran so much deeper.

It probably would have been easy enough to call all of your friends, to ask for help from a familiar face, but a chain would heavy your hand any time you'd reach for the phone. You couldn't even bring yourself to call your two favourite boys.

With months of gruelling therapy out of the way, you now have a home - a new home - that you can call yours and a typical civilian job to keep the money coming in. You may be somewhat established back into society but you are merely a shell of what once was, a sauntering after image of the person you used to be. It had taken countless sessions just to counter your agoraphobia but a slithery vine is quick to entangle your spine any time you choose to leave your home. The darned thing clenches and digs its thorns in, threatening to jolt your head into a spasm but you always fight the urge.

That day wasn't much different. To begin with, at least.

After your usual mental prepping and throwing your cap on, you take the leap of faith from your doorstep and trudge along for your weekly grocery run. All in all, it seemed it was going to be fairly standard; weave in and out of people, make no eye contact, get the goods, and go home. It wasn't like it was late on your way back either but, with the winter season, that night was soon rolling in. You notice another set of footsteps trailing behind you, which certainly isn't helping. It could just be that pesky paranoia settling in but this person has been hot on your tail for a few minutes now. Still having some streets to go, you curse your blunder in not choosing a location more in-city. In an attempt to get home faster without displaying your fear, you ever so slightly pick up the pace. The individual appears to do the same and you are ready to run. The muscles in your calves tighten in anticipation of a quick escape.

That's when it happened: a chance encounter that reduced you to tears.

"Hey!" an all-too-familiar voice beckons from behind you.

Anxiety prickles your skin for different reasons than before. There's no way it's him. Surely not.

Oh, but it is.

The great hero Dynamight had been making his rounds in the city, keeping an astute eye out for anything amiss but also for you. It may seem outlandish for him to still be looking for you after almost three years but this is Bakugo. He's not one to give up. That's probably why he's grown more calloused in this time. He hasn’t been able to heal. To move on. The night still haunts him though he never lets that show. His cold heart had grown even heavier and colder since that day. He barely says a word - more so than usual. The man eats at himself over the whole situation. What could he have done differently? Is there actually anything he could have actually done? If he can’t even save a comrade, a person he cares so deeply about, is he even worthy of the title of hero? Perhaps that is another driving force to keep searching for you. It may seem crazy but at least he hasn't lost his hope. Not like they did. How could they all just assume you dead like that? How could they give up on a friend? A fellow pro hero? Not him. Not ever and nor Kirishima. That redhead, as much of an idiot as he may be, is the only one who stuck by Bakugo's headstrong tenacity over the years. He shakes the thoughts from his head for about the umpteenth time just that day alone.

It seemed as though it would be another afternoon of quiet. One might say that's a nice change of pace but some individuals like to be kept busy. Bakugo stopped for one of his annoying fans when he caught a flash from the corner of his eye. It almost looked like... no. It couldn't be. Wait... is it? His gaze has never once failed him before. The calls of the young boy were lost to him, his feet moved without his consent. He'd recognise that stupid hat anywhere. It wasn't even a matter of questioning the legitimacy before he was practically tailgating the unsuspecting individual. It didn't take long until it was just the two of them walking along the darkening street. His heart hasn’t beat this hard since that terrible day. He shakes his head, almost grows angry. What if it is you? What will he do? A deep breath. Just keep focusing on the task at hand - one that seems to be slipping from him the longer this cat-and-mouse chase drags out. His tracks aren't exactly subtle given how the freshly falling snow crunches and groans beneath his weight. The speed picks up and he knows he has to say something before his "prey" runs off. He has opened and closed his mouth several times to speak up to her but he backs out every time. Goddamnit Bakugo just say something. He growls to himself and closes his eyes. His fists clench beneath his gauntlets. He can’t believe he is about to do this. He must be crazy.

Finally, somehow managing to find his own voice, he calls out. "Hey!"

He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to call out that name in case his assumption was wrong. The figure stops and slowly turns around to face him. Bakugo stares a moment longer before slowly walking over to get a closer look. His heart punches against his ribcage when he's no more than a meter in front of that familiar face. There have been some changes, of course, but he would recognise those eyes anywhere - your eyes. He looks back and forth between them before letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head. He closes his eyes and rests a hand on her shoulder, an action that is hesitant but proves the reality of your existence at this moment. All he can do is keep his eyes closed as everything tries to catch up to him. Eventually, he takes in a deep sigh and slowly looks up at you. His expression holds a mixture of sad and relived and some exhaustion like he just got done with a war.

"How long, (Y/n)?"

At first, you haven't a clue what he's talking about until it hits you like a steel pipe to the cheek. You had gotten so caught up in the situation, Katsuki Bakugo slowly trailing towards you with an unease you had never witnessed in him before. Not like this. A million and one thoughts spurry around your head but, at the same time, you are also completely blank. Crimson eyes pierce right into your soul, attempting to coerce your tongue for the words but still nothing. You can't help the nausea in your stomach when it dawns on you just how mad he may get. You already envision the blade of his teeth slicing through you.

"They... I was discharged from a hospital in Hachinohe almost... almost four months ago."

It all comes down on him like a sack of bricks. Understandably, he is pissed - unequivocally burning in damnation of the truth that you are alive and have been roaming the streets for so many months and against his knowledge no less. It doesn't matter if he had been in the middle of a battle; he would have been there for you in a heartbeat. Growing more painful, he rubs at the migraine pounding against his temples. He wipes his forehead as if making up for the fact that there are no tears to dry. He doesn't know how to cry right now. The pressure and strain amidst his palms shake his nerves to no end.

"And you didn't call?!" he screams over his crackling throat. "I would have come for you! We would have come for you!"

How could you call? You were so sure that everyone was better off without you, that you weren't needed in their lives. By the time you had been freed, everyone had become more well-established heroes in society. They don't need you. They moved on. That's how you thought of it, at least. Your attempted explanation of this only angers him further but he breathes past the frustration when he realises how worked up you're getting. What happened to you for you to think such awful things?

"I'm not sure where you got this narrative of not being needed," he sighs and looks away. "Do you have any idea what it has been like without you, dumbass?"

The old nickname slips off his tongue so naturally. He'd always call everyone an idiot, stupid, nerd ironically enough, but dumbass? That was reserved for you and for you only, so for it to be said - to be heard - after two years breaks you.

It had been quite a sight, watching you crumble down to the snow-covered floor. He had knelt down, waiting for you to calm down enough to form coherent sentences again. As cohesive as you could against the waves of rainfall spilling from your face, anyway. When things had eventually calmed, he took you back to your apartment and gave you the chance to speak. You managed to tell him little about what you had been through. Each sentence dwindled beneath the weighing sickness that bubbled in your throat any time you tried to get into detail. One thing really stood out to Bakugo, however. He envisioned the mass murder of those bastards for having done this to you, for rendering you quirkless and making you believe such self-deprecating lies.

That was two days ago. Bakugo insisted on you staying around his just to keep an eye on you. You know better than to refuse his help and it's for his own piece of mind as well as yours. He even took the liberty of calling off work for the rest of the week just to make sure you're okay. He never does that, which is probably why a certain redhead is standing at his door, wide-eyed, gawking at you. Once he had caught wind of Bakugo's absence at the agency, he raced over to make sure everything was okay. He could have never anticipated seeing you. The two of you stare at one another, unable to say anything. You take a stand and open your mouth to say something, anything, but the wind is pushed from your lungs when Kirishima gulps you up into his arms. He cries. God, this man cries and sobs with no yield as he just holds you. Restraints don't appear to exist anymore and you spill again, clutching onto him with unceremonious content. He doesn't ask any questions and just weeps into your shoulder, fearing the worst if he were to let go.

Everyone else had assumed you were dead. Why wouldn't they? After two, almost three, years, why would you believe a person to still be alive? Not them. They kept looking, searching, and scouring every last mineral in this damn country to try and find you. Now they have you back in their lives? They swear by All-Might that you will be waited on, pampered, loved, and cared for until they see the remnants of your old self again. It will take time but they waited this long for you, right?

No time in the world is more worth it.

It's probably worth mentioning that I could very clearly hear the chorus to Childish Gambino's song 'Heartbeat' when Kirishima went in for the hug and now it's stuck in my head.

I should also probably work more on WSA but I think I need to do a few one-shots just to get me back in the groove. I hope you enjoyed and sorry if it feels a bit rushed in some areas :')

Did I proof read it? Unfortunately not.

#x reader #kiribaku x reader #bakukiri x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #fanfiction #mha #bnha

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lucifersresources · 1 year

Text

taylor swift // reputation rp meme.

edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!

...ready for it?

knew he was a killer.

he's a ghost.

i see nothing better.

touch me and you'll never be alone.

no one has to know.

in my dreams, you should see the things we do.

i know i'm gonna be with you.

are you ready for it?

every love in comparison is a failure.

i'm so very tame now.

let the games begin.

end game.

i wanna be your end game.

you and me, we got big reputations.

i got some big enemies.

you like the bad ones.

i don't wanna miss you.

i don't wanna hurt you.

they told you i'm crazy.

i swear i don't love the drama, it loves me.

i can't let you go.

your hand prints on my soul.

you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks.

i did something bad.

i never trust a narcissist, but they love me.

this is how the world works.

all he thinks about is me.

i can feel the flames on my skin.

i owe him nothing.

he had it coming.

they say i did something bad.

they say i did something bad, then why's it feel so good?

i let them think they saved me.

they never see it coming.

you gotta leave before you get left.

they're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one.

don't blame me.

love made me crazy.

my drug is my baby.

i've been breaking hearts a long time.

something happened.

i just need you.

for you i would cross the line.

for you i would lose my mind.

she's gone too far this time.

i'm just gonna call you mine.

i'm insane, but i'm your baby.

i once was poison ivy, but now i'm your daisy.

for you i would fall from grace.

i'd beg you on my knees to stay.

i get to high every time you're loving me.

delicate.

this ain't for the best.

my reputation's never been worse.

you must like me for me.

we can't make any promises now can we?

just think of the fun things we could do.

is it cool that i said all that?

is it chill that you're in my head?

i know that it's delicate.

is it too soon to do this yet?

do the girls back home touch you like i do?

stay here, honey, i don't wanna share.

are you ever dreaming of me?

i pretend you're mine.

look what you made me do.

i don't like your little games.

i don't like your perfect crime.

i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time.

i rose up from the dead.

i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time.

look what you made me do.

all i think about is karma.

maybe i got mine, but you'll all get yours.

i don't trust nobody.

i'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams.

so it goes.

you make everyone disappear.

gold cage, hostage to my feelings.

i'm yours to keep.

i'm yours to lose.

i do bad things with you.

you make me jealous.

i got your heart skipping.

you did a number on me.

gorgeous.

you've ruined my life by not being mine.

you're so gorgeous.

i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way.

i feel like i might sink and drown and die.

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have.

getaway car.

nothing good starts in a getaway car.

it was the best of times, the worst of crimes.

i wanted to leave him.

i needed a reason.

x marks the spot where we fell apart.

i was lying to myself.

we never had a shotgun shot in the dark.

don't pretend it's such a mystery.

think about the place where you first met me.

there were sirens in the beat of your heart.

should've known i'd be the first to leave.

but with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow.

a circus ain't a love story.

now we're both sorry.

us traitors never win.

that was the last time you ever saw me.

king of my heart.

i'm perfectly fine.

i'm better off alone.

we rule the kingdom inside my room.

all at once, you are the one i have been waiting for.

you are all i want.

i'll never let you go.

your love is a secret i'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep.

the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury.

is this the end of all the endings?

my broken bones are mending.

all at once, this is enough.

this is enough.

dancing with our hands tied.

i loved you in secret.

we love without reason.

how were you to know.

my love had been frozen.

my love had been frozen deep blue, but you painted me golden.

you painted me golden.

i could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets.

there was nothing in the world that could stop it.

i had a bad feeling.

you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis.

there was no one in the world who could take it.

i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us.

can we dance through an avalanche?

i'm a mess.

i'm the mess that you wanted.

it's gravity keeping you with me.

dress.

they got no idea about me and you.

there is an indentation in the shape of you.

made your mark on me.

my hands are shaking from holding back from you.

say my name and everything just stops.

i don't want you like a best friend.

only bought this dress so you could take it off.

carve your name into my bedpost.

if i get burned, at least we were electrified.

everyone thinks that they know us.

they know nothing.

even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me.

now i wake up by your side.

my one and only, my lifeline.

this is why we can't have nice things.

there are no rules.

feeling so gatsby for that whole year.

why'd you have to rain on my parade?

this is why we can't have nice things.

did you think i wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?

you stabbed me in the back.

friends don't try to trick you.

if only you weren't so shady.

here's a toast to my real friends.

forgiveness is a nice thing to do.

i can't even say it with a straight face.

call it what you want.

my castle crumbled overnight.

they took the crown.

they took the crown, but it's alright.

nobody's heard from me in months.

nobody's heard from me in months, i'm doing better than i ever was.

i'm doing better than i ever was.

call it what you want.

my baby loves me like i'm brand new.

all my flowers grew back as thorns.

he built a fire just to keep me warm.

they fade to nothing when i look at him.

i make the same mistakes every time.

at least i did one thing right.

i did one thing right.

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night.

he really knows me.

you don't need to save me.

would you run away with me?

you don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?

new year's day.

don't read the last page.

i stay when you're lost.

i'm scared.

you're turning away.

i want your midnights.

i'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day.

you squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi.

i can tell that it's gonna be a long road.

i'll be there if you're the toast of the town.

i'll be there if you're the toast of the town, or if you strike out and you're crawling home.

hold on to the memories.

hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you.

please don't ever become a stranger.

don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognise anywhere.

you and me forevermore.

i will hold on to you.

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not-a-space-alien · 1 month

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K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 11

Part eleven of the fourth crossover with @whumpsday!

Bam!!! Back to back!! Once again again an XL chapter because I couldn't find a good place for a chapter break. lol... You can clearly tell these were written as RPs 😅 Hope you enjoy!

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To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings: Aftermath of torture

In this chapter:

youtube

***

The next day, Jim comes down when Liz is set to arrive soon. He feels a lot safer in the daytime, making breakfast for himself. Valen follows behind.

The bookshelf is undisturbed. Jim says, "Liz is gonna be working on the basement, installing silver stuff on the door. Kane can come up here? I can't move that bookshelf."

"Sure, that sounds fine. Just so you know, I had Kane demonstrate yesterday how strong he is as of now, and he could barely lift twenty pounds. The bookshelf was far in excess. Maybe that will put you at ease. I'll probably have to go to vampire territory tonight to pick up more blood, but I won't leave until Liz has made things secure so that you feel safe with me out of the house."

He walks over to the bookshelf and lifts it bodily, books and all, effortlessly and sets it where it belongs. He unlocks the door and cracks it open. "Kane, are you awake?"

Kane pokes his head out from the blanket cocoon he's encased himself in. "Yes, sir. I mean- yes." It's the best night of sleep he's had in a very long time. Already, he looks a lot better, the burns on his face having healed significantly. "Am I... needed?" They said they wouldn't hurt him, he tries to remind himself, but it's hard to internalize.

"Jim wants you to come upstairs. His sister is coming over today and will need to be in the basement. Shall I help you come up?"

His sister must be Liz. The hunter. Great, just great. There's no way he's going to escape that encounter unscathed. At least he has blood now, so he'll heal fast, but he's still dreading it.

"I, I can handle it." Kane wraps one of the blankets around himself, shuffling up the stairs to meet Valen. "Is it okay if I take it with me?"

"Of course." Valen watches Kane come upstairs, then has him sit down on the couch, then pokes his head into the kitchen. "Jim, dear, Kane is in the living room. Come out when you're ready. What would you like us to do until Liz gets here?"

Jim comes out with a plate of peanut butter banana toast. "Uh, I dunno. She shouldn't be long. Hey, K-Kane." Jim isn't supposed to use his name. He's supposed to use Master. He hates that his voice wavers. "How'd you sleep."

Kane eyes him fearfully. "Very well. Thank you." Kane is trying to be as polite as possible, extremely tense. "And yourself?"

"Good. Hey, relax. Still not gonna hurtcha." Jim reminds him.

"Yes. Thank you." Kane barely calms. The hunter is almost here.

"I figure I'll go out and buy some stuff for him at some point today, before you go for blood. Clothes and stuff." Jim tells Valen. "That okay?"

"Sure, that's a lovely idea. And while you're out of the house, maybe Kane can help me with my research project, since we're out of real blood. I finally have a second test subject." He winks at Kane.

Kane's face falls even deeper into fear. "What?" he squeaks, clutching the blanket tighter around himself. "What- research project?"

"Oh dear," Valen says with a laugh. "I just realized how that might have sounded if you don't know anything about it. I'm working on trying to develop artificial blood. So far I've been the only one around to drink it. You can help me taste test it. You needn't worry; the worst that will happen is we sit around drinking shots, and one of them happens to taste bad. Obviously you don't have to if it makes you nervous."

Kane relaxes. That's the worst that can happen, and the best that can happen is he gets more blood. "Yes, I would love to. That sounds, that sounds wonderful. Thank you for including me."

"Aw, I wanna do fake blood shots." Jim whines. "Stupid toxic mushrooms."

There's a knock at the door, and Kane jolts like it's a gunshot, whimpering.

"She's not gonna hurt you." Jim assures him. "Liz's just gonna make the basement secure and get you some restraints that don't hurt. That's all."

Restraints that don't hurt sound good. Kane nods, sinking further into the couch as Jim answers the door.

Liz is wearing her hunting gear and a stormy expression, carrying a bag of vampire restraints in one hand and a bunch of silver under the other. She glares at Kane with burning hatred.

Kane shoots Valen a desperate, pleading look.

Valen comes over and stands next to Kane, reaching down and putting a comforting hand on his back. "Liz, it's so good to see you. Kane, this is Liz, Jim's sister. She and I have been good friends for years. Liz, there's something Kane would like to say to you." Valen leans down and whispers very, very quietly into Kane's ear, such that only vampire hearing would let him hear, no eavesdropping. "Apologize to her, and try to make it sound like you're not doing it just because you're afraid of her." There's no way it's going to mollify even a fraction of Liz's anger at Kane, but Valen thinks that addressing the elephant in the room up-front might ease some of the tension that he's sure is going to happen. And maybe, just maybe, if Kane is polite and deferential and sincere right off the bat, it will help Liz see that he's different.

Kane focuses on the grounding hand on his back. Valen has been safe, so far, and unbelievably kind. At the very least, he's a vampire too, and the least threatening of his new wardens. He hesitates a moment before timidly speaking up. "I'm s-sorry, ma'am. What I did to Jim was- was cruel, and I'm glad he's safe now."

Jim's eyebrows raise at the apology. Kane's said I'm sorry many times already, but this feels different somehow. It feels weird.

"I know that it was cruel." Liz snaps. Kane cringes back, expecting a blow that doesn't come.

"Liz, he's already really scared." Jim says. "Please?"

She sighs, putting the silver down and approaching with the bag. "Arms out."

Kane extends his shaking arms. Liz fastens padded cuffs onto his wrists, and similar with his ankles. "Don't touch the keys, they're silver." she tells Valen, her tone much softer with him.

She tosses the bag to Jim, containing the keys to the cuffs and one other mysterious item. Jim peers inside, then closes the bag again with a frown.

"Thank you, Liz," Valen says. "I know you have every right to be upset with Kane, he's just simply trying to demonstrate he knows what he did was wrong and behaves differently now. He has been a perfect gentleman so far, nothing like how he used to be. It's very kind of you to come over to help Jim and not hurt Kane." It's a thank you, but also a warning to back off, a reminder of how they'd said it would go. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help with the basement."

"I get it, okay? That is what I came over to do." Liz rubs her temples. She gives Jim a quick hug before grabbing the silver. "Thanks, Valen. For everything. But... I think you're the last person who could help with this." She does offer him a lukewarm smile before going to work on the door.

Valen wilts as soon as Liz turns her back, desperately hoping he hadn't made a huge mistake and made things worse. "Of course," he says vaguely.

Kane relaxes a little once she's out of eyeshot. "Thank you." he murmurs.

Jim fishes the keys out of the bag, stuffs them in his pocket, and throws the bag and its remaining contents in the trash.

Valen comes over and gingerly picks it from the trash. "Hold on, Jim, dear, it sounds like there's still something in there."

"It's trash." Jim insists, taking it out of Valen's hands and putting it back in the garbage. "I'm gonna put the keys upstairs and head out to shop while you and Kane do shots or whatever. Unless you want me to stick around?"

Valen stares at Jim, then averts his eyes. "I thought it might be good for you to stay here while Liz is here also, but I think I can handle it if you'd rather not be here."

"Yeah, you're right, it can wait. 'S why I asked." Jim takes Valen's hand, threading his fingers through Valen's. "And seriously, just forget about the bag. It's nothing we'd ever use."

"Jim..." Valen says. Surely Jim must know that Valen is going to open the bag to see what it is as soon as he gets an opportunity when Jim isn't around?

"It's a muzzle." Jim mumbles. "Like I said. Trash. Prolly just came with the cuffs from whoever Liz got them from, which was why she didn't try to put it on. I'm not putting that shit on him." As afraid as he is of Kane's bite, the memory of Valen in a muzzle still haunts him.

"I don't mind wearing a muzzle if, if it doesn't hurt." Kane says. "I'll be good. Won't resist."

But Valen's skin crawls at the thought of a muzzle. He understands Jim's instinctual reaction to it. He tries to hide the look on his face. Objectively, a muzzle is not such a bad thing, if it won't hurt. He nods, trying not to look shaken. "All right. If you don't think you'll need it, we can get rid of it. Kane says he wouldn't even mind, I assume it's padded. I don't think Kane will try to bite you anyway. I just want you to feel safe."

"I don't want it in our house." Jim cups Valen's face, running his thumb over Valen’s cheek. Soft skin that was locked behind a muzzle for three days during horrible trauma. "I'd feel safer with it gone."

Kane modestly averts his eyes.

Valen nods. "I-I would also feel safer with it gone. Thank you."

Valen takes Jim's hand and goes over to Liz, examining what she's doing curiously. "So, Liz, what all are you planning to do while you're here?"

Liz has already replaced the door's hinges with silver, and is now installing a flat silver grating over it. "Just silverin' up this door. Obviously don't touch any of this, or wear gloves if you gotta. Assume that touching any metal within a foot of the door isn't fun. Gonna put a deadbolt on the outside next. All that should definitely be able to hold him. But both of you keep in mind it'll also hold anyone, human or vampire, so don't get stuck down there."

"Good to know." Jim says quietly. The idea of a prison inside his home makes him feel hollow. It reminds him uncomfortably of the human quarters back at Kane's.

Valen, by contrast, seems fine with this. "Thank you, Liz." He walks over and sits on the couch next to Kane. "How are you doing?" he says quietly.

Jim talks with Liz for a bit, their conversation consisting of Jim chewing her out a bit for bringing a muzzle, Liz confirming what Jim thought about it just coming with the set, Jim asking where she got those anyway, and Liz saying she knows a hunter who did a hostage exchange once.

"I'm okay. Good." Kane confirms. "The cuffs don't hurt. I'm fed. I'm healing. You p-protected me from the hunter. Thank you. I'm... I'm actually okay." He's still scared, his fate uncertain, but he knows his life has at least had a major step up.

"Good," Valen says, patting his knee.

"Um, can I ask... what did people say about me? After I was assumed dead, as I'm sure I was?"

"Um, unfortunately I don't really know. I pretty much isolated myself from any other vampires a long time ago. I moved out here to be with Jim not long after the last time we saw each other, and I don't keep in touch with my family."

"Oh. I see." That would have been years before Kane was captured, then. He hadn't even heard about Valen running off to human territory. It's scary how someone could just...disappear, and no one cares. He wonders if anyone cared when he did.

Suddenly, he smiles wryly. "He was still in your apartment, wasn't he. When I came by. I'm just realizing that."

Valen smiles, half-embarrassed, half amused. "Yes, he was cowering at the bottom of my bedroom closet. I've never been a good liar, so I was terrified you'd see through it. At the time I was nervous I wouldn't be able to fight you off if you didn't believe me and decided to shove your way in and look around."

The implications aren't lost on Kane. If Valen hadn't done what he did, Kane never would have gone through this horrible mess. But it's an incidental consequence, not a purposeful one. He didn't even get captured until five years later.

And he really did plan on crushing Jim's ankles if he found him. And Jim doesn't deserve that.

"I'm glad you got him out. Thank you." Kane says.

"The poor thing was on the brink of death out in the wild," Valen says sadly. "I couldn't just leave him there." He wrings his hands. "I'm glad you think this way, now, I was afraid when we came to get you that you'd--you'd be even angrier, and more violent."

Kane imagines, for a moment, a world in which he'd found Jim's corpse out there in the woods. He'd still have gone for a second human, probably in the same timeframe, and still been captured by the hunters. Except this time, there would be no Jim to save him and take him away. It would be forever. Neither one of them would have a happy ending. He's more thankful than ever for Valen.

"I've been subject to the other side. I couldn't possibly go on with my stupid fucking- s-sorry. I don't mean to be impolite." he says nervously, hoping that doesn't count. Just be polite, and you'll be fine. "With my views."

Valen smiles and pats his hand. "You're all right. Still, I'm very glad, it's making this all a lot easier. I think in the long run this might be better for Jim's healing, too. To stop thinking of you as some bogeyman that could swoop in to take him at any time."

Jim comes on over, only catching the last bit. "Yeah, not so much of a bogeyman now. So, shots? I can grab some cranberry juice and play along."

Kane perks up. He's going to get more blood, even if it's 'artificial'. He's never heard of anything like it, but he very much likes blood.

"Jim, dear, are you sure you don't want to wait until Liz leaves?" He hesitates, then more quietly: "And are you sure you want to see Kane feeding?"

"It's not like- it's just the mushroom stuff, out of a cup, right? No, like, biting anything?" Jim clarifies. "If I chicken out, I'll just slink off. We can wait if you wanna, though, and you can do it while I'm out. Doesn't matter."

"Yes. Okay, that sounds good. I do think we should wait until Liz is gone, though." No sense doing anything risky if they didn't need to, and having Kane do anything other than the absolute bare minimum to get through interacting with Liz is definitely risky

Kane is glad for the stalling. Drinking blood is bad behavior, and he doesn't want to do it in front of the huntress, even if it's not real blood and he has permission.

Jim puts the TV on for a bit. It's about 40 minutes until Liz is done. "Alright, that should do it." she announces. "If we really wanna test it, Valen can put some gloves on and give it a good knocking, but I get that might be uncomfortable and I'm confident it'll hold."

"I'm certainly willing to do that, but I'm confident in your work, Liz. Jim, up to you."

"If... you're really sure it's okay, could we maybe test it?" Jim asks sheepishly, embarrassed of his fear. "Just to make sure."

Kane wants to insist that he won't try to escape, but that could be taken as him wanting to leave the basement less-secured, and he doesn't want to imply anything like that, especially in front of the hunter.

"Of course! It'll be a fun activity."

Valen dons his protective gear, the things he uses to go out during the day, to be absolutely certain he won't touch any of the silver. He then has them lock him in the basement and bodily slams the door multiple times, demonstrating that even a full frontal assault with a running start from a healthy vampire is not enough to break it down.

Kane watches with wide eyes, listening to the pap-pap-pap-BOOM of Valen running into the door. He wasn't planning to escape anyway, he's behaving, and it's been good here so far, but the demonstration of just how trapped and helpless he is makes him feel small. He looks down at his feet, trembling a bit.

Jim unlocks the door. "Thanks, Vale. Think that about covers it."

Valen had, truthfully, enjoyed the activity just as he'd said. It'd been ages since he'd had any reason to unleash his full strength. He is panting a little when he comes out. "You're quite welcome." He catches sight of Kane. "I'm sure this is far in excess of what's actually necessary, considering Kane isn't going to try anything like what I just did, but I'm happy it will make you feel more secure."

Valen looks so hot, panting when he takes his mask off. Jim would eagerly comment on it if the other company in the room weren't his sister and Kane. "Yeah. Super secure."

"I'll leave you guys to it, then. You know I'm always a phone call away." Liz gives Jim a hug, and Valen a hug, and goes to leave. Before she does, she hesitates at the door before stomping over to Kane.

"Hurt my brother ever again and you are done." she snarls. "Are we understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kane says, cowering away from her.

"Thank you, Liz," Valen says dryly. "Drive safely." Jim is similarly displeased with Liz's choice, even if he's glad for the protectiveness.

Valen watches Liz depart, and then turns to Kane. "You did very well, thank you for staying calm."

"C-calm." Kane agrees shakily. He's relieved he's done well, at least.

Valen grins at Jim. "Drinks now, then?"

"Hell yes. I'm getting my c-berry." Jim heads into the kitchen.

"One moment, Jim, I have a great idea that will make this fun for you as well!"

Valen runs into the kitchen and mixes some shots of various kinds of alcohol, with red food dye, in with Jim's cranberry juice shots. He also makes Jim look away to keep it secret and adds a few prank shots, like straight pickle juice, vinegar, dredges of food leftovers that he's seen the human dump down the drain to discard, anything that's safe to ingest but strong in taste and can be passably disguised as cranberry juice. He also adds one shot that's the formula for artificial blood without the parts that would hurt Jim--he imagines it will just taste really salty, but he knows Jim will be delighted to taste a safe version of it.

He then pours little sample cups of his various concoctions, paired so that he and Kane will always be drinking the same one. He's had years to work on it at this point, and while it's certainly not real blood, not even as good as the imported stuff, it's much more tolerable than it had been in the early stages. He's currently working on trying to replicate the specific tastes of various blood types. He is getting closer to being ready to do something with it, although he's still not quite sure what his plan of attack for actually launching it will be, now that he's burned his bridges with the country's biggest distributor of blood.

Valen comes out with the shots, all labeled with some scribbles only decipherable to himself. "Okay, Kane, we're testing which of these taste best, which of them are stinkers, and as a bonus let's label each as to what blood type they taste most like."

"Haha, oh man. This is great." Jim laughs. "This is so cute. I'm so freakin' excited."

Kane eyes the not-blood curiously. It doesn't smell like blood, but it looks like blood. He hopes it sits in his stomach and sates hunger like blood. "Okay! This is... I've never seen anything like this."

Jim grabs the human-safe artificial blood first, the only one visually distinguishable from his cranberry shots. Kane grabs the shot opposite the one Valen grabs.

"Cheers!" Jim exclaims.

Valen clinks his glass against Jim's, then Kane's, then tosses the shot back.

All three of them make faces like they'd just tasted something bad. The first cup of artificial blood was definitely a bad one.

"Um," Valen says, smacking his lips. "Hm, I'm marking this one down as a no.”

It definitely tastes bad, but it really is blood, almost. Kane licks the remnants from the inside of the shot. "It's okay. I don't hate it." he decides. How could he hate something that would sate hunger? Just yesterday, he would have licked this off the floor and been grateful.

"I'll write it down that a starving man finds it tolerable."

"Ugh." is Jim's only comment on his own drink.

Valen grabs the next shot glass and downs it. He licks his lips. "Mmm. Oh, this one is pretty good. I'd say it's AB positive.”

Kane agrees. "AB positive, yes. This is good." But maybe his standards are low, like Valen said.

Jim gets pickle juice, his face scrunching up again. "Pickle."

The next one, Jim gets a nice cranberry vodka shot. "Now this is a shot. Finally." he says with a smile.

"B negative. Really good." Kane says immediately after drinking his.

The smile drops off Jim's face and he looks away. After seeing Jim's reaction, Kane's mood similarly seems to drop as he shrinks back.

"Ah," Valen says. B negative is, in fact, Jim's blood type. He discreetly makes a few notes in the ensuing awkward silence. "Shall we take a break, then?"

"S-sorry." Kane says quietly.

"Nah, s'all good. You were doing exactly what Valen asked you to do." Jim takes another shot. "Bleh. Pickles." He motions for Valen and Kane to continue.

Valen wordlessly slides his notebook and pencil over to Kane, so he can directly write down what blood type he thinks they are, so as to avoid a repeat of what just happened.

The next blood shot is a whole lot of nothing. It doesn't taste bad, but it doesn't taste good either

They go through all of them like this. Jim is pretty giggly by the end, the B negative shot forgotten. Kane looks at him strangely.

"He never let me driiink." Jim complains to Valen. "Said it'd taste bad, in my blood. Boo. No fun."

Kane's experiences with humans and alcohol have been very different up until now, due to selection bias: the only hunters who would bother visiting him drunk were the ones who wanted something to hurt. He's never seen a reaction like this before.

"Oh, Jim," Valen says, giggling and giving him a smooch. "You're so cute when you're drunk. You can have all the fun you want now. Oh!" Valen goes red. "I-I forgot that you were supposed to drive to the store after this!”

"Well that's not happening. Don't wanna go to the stupid store anyway. Wanna stay here with you." Jim nuzzles into Valen's shoulder. "We got clothes here. It can wait a day. C'you wait a day, Kane?"

"Yes. I, I can wait. Thank you for going at all." Kane agrees.

"See? All fine." Jim says happily.

Valen decides to also put off leaving the house to go get blood until Jim is sober, imagining it wouldn't go well for Jim to be drunk alone with Kane, or to wake up alone with Kane in the house. They have the artificial stuff to tide them over, which is in fact the whole point of making it.

After they're done drinking, Valen insists that Jim "makes" Kane watch Jim's favorite movie. After it seems like Jim's had enough of being conscious on this mortal coil, Valen takes him upstairs and puts him to bed, then comes down to put Kane in the basement.

He apologetically asks him to go downstairs, and asks if he'd like anything to keep himself entertained.

"...Music?" Kane asks. "If, if it's convenient. I don't need anything. Thank you for the blood."

"Of course!"

Valen comes down with a radio, as well as some notebooks and pencils, which Kane didn't ask for, but Valen suggests to him to keep a journal, as Valen has found it good for his mental health. He also brings down books and extra pillows and blankets, adding them to the outrageously large pile of blankets already on Kane's bed, because he thinks it's just so dreadfully cold down here.

"I'll see about getting us some real blood soon," Valen says on his way up the stairs. "Sleep well."

"Thank you. So much, for everything. You too." Kane says with a small smile. For the first time in a very long time, he's actually hopeful about the future.

Valen locks the door, then goes upstairs to the very drunk and sleepy Jim, barricading the bedroom door once again and crawling up beside Jim. "How are you, my dear Jim?"

"Good. Sleepy. M'not even scared." Jim proclaims proudly. "Valen. Guess what. I love you sooooo much."

Valen's face splits in a smile so big it hurts his face. "Awww. Well guess what. I love you more!"

Jim breaks into a gigantic smile. "Yaaaaaay." He buries his face in Valen.

Valen strokes the nape of Jim's neck as they both fall asleep.

***

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