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flowersandskeletons526 · 2 days ago

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"How Else to Prove That I'm Devout" - KPDH polytrix fic (part one)

Brain rot go brr. Angst be upon ye. Also known as putting Mira in the guilt blender. Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

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Mira liked meet and greets. Usually.

Most of the fans that came to the events were amazing, always so ecstatic to see the band and talk to their idols even if only for a few seconds. Sometimes they got the ones who tried to reach across the table, got a little too touchy during pictures or asked personal questions edging towards the more severe side of parasocial relationships, even one fan that had to be whisked away by security after making some off-color comments to Zoey early on in Huntrix’s rise to fame. But that was more or less a workplace hazard when you had your face plastered across half the world. They were all aware of it and they had people and procedures to handle those situations as they arose.

The little happy moments outweighed all the bad for her. Young girls with streaks of pink in their hair gushing over how cool her costumes were and how badass she was, whispering the swear word to hide it from their parents standing off to the side. The boy with shaky hands held close to his chest telling her that he just got accepted into dance school and her choreography was his inspiration. The quiet teenager with hardened eyes like hers who confessed cutting contact with a less-than-loving family, because if she could come from the same situation and find strength outside of it, then so could they.

That last instance was just after their first nationwide tour. She would never admit how hard she cried about it the second she was alone.

Mira didn’t mind the press. Usually.

It was another workplace hazard. Things got misconstrued or taken out of context. Her past was occasionally pried into a little deeper than she liked. Luckily the interviewers and reporters she interacted with were mostly respectful, and Bobby and the girls were always there to shut down any that weren’t. It was better than the horrific tabloid culture Zoey described from the United States.

However, it wasn’t always inescapable.

It was their first real public appearance after the hell that was the Idol Awards, after about a month and a half of dodging speculations and invasive inquiries and trying to keep Bobby from having a stroke due to the stress. He set it up to be easy for them, to Mira’s eternal gratitude: a couple hours signing autographs and talking to fans, taking a few pictures, releasing new merch and teasing at upcoming concerts. Not that there were real solid plans for a performance any time soon.

No one would admit it, but a major reason for it was so Mira, Rumi, and Zoey could show their faces as a united front. They could only quell the breakup rumors for so long without actually showing proof that they were false. The girls knew that they were closer than ever, and so did Bobby, to an extent, but half their fanbase couldn’t look past the Takedown performance and still feared they were broken beyond repair.

Currently, Mira’s only fear was that someone would call her out for running a little too fast to the car. She smiled and waved to the mob of fans and reporters and photographers following them, did everything she could to look normal and not let on exactly how fucking exhausted she was. She was the last to get there as always, staying behind Rumi and Zoey to create a barrier, a shield between them and anyone in the crowd who might have ill intentions. That was her place: protecting them from the very beginning of their story.

But it meant there was nothing creating a barrier for her, and Bobby was occupied talking to another person on the PR team, and a small event meant a small security presence, and all of that compounded made it disturbingly easy for a sleazy looking man with a selfie stick and a live stream to come running up to her.

“Welcome back, my fellow detectives!” he was saying into his phone camera. “I’m Investigator Scotty from Idol Investigators, covering Huntrix’s first public appearance after the Idol awards! I’m here with Mira, lead visual and choreographer! Mira, how are you feeling seeing all these fans still showing up after your last performance?”

She barely remembered to fix her face in time, plastering on her camera-ready smile that Celine had drilled into the three of them a lifetime ago. She was allowed to be a badass, but she was not allowed to be an asshole.

“It’s amazing to see everyone,” she gushed. “We’re always so happy to get a chance to talk to our fans.”

She didn’t like the emphasis he’d put on the word still. It made her plant herself squarely between him and the open door of the car.

“And we are all, of course, very happy to see you,” the streamer said with an over-exaggerated smile as he panned across the crowd.

Someone touched her back, and she wasn’t sure if it was Rumi or Zoey but she felt all their concern and confusion radiating from the simple pressure of a hand planted over her spine. She made eye contact with a pair of security guards near the venue doors. They nodded once and started making their way through the crowd as the streamer continued talking.

“So, my subscribers want to know-” Ugh. “-if you have any response to your brother’s recent comments.”

Her brother?

Mira’s heart stopped in her chest. Her blood ran cold. The world went silent, save a high pitched ringing in her ears and her own hammering pulse. She heard herself chuckle but she wasn’t sure if she was in control of her own mouth anymore.

“Excuse me? My brother’s comments?” she repeated, a biting edge infecting the words.

“We obtained an exclusive interview with your brother after footage of the Takedown performance was released-”

There was footage of that night?

Before the questioning could go any further, the security guards grabbed the streamer under his arms and swiftly carried him away. Just as he began spouting off about freedom of the press, Bobby came around to usher Mira into the car and climb in after her, shutting and locking the door behind them. The driver sped off without having to be told.

Rumi and Zoey were on her in a heartbeat with an arm around her shoulders and a hand on her knee.

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked almost frantically. “Who was that guy?”

“Mira, what did he say to you?” asked Rumi.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she stared straight ahead at Bobby sitting across from them, furiously typing on his phone.

“Bobby.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking!” he promised. “What show did he say? Idol Investigators, right? Where have I heard that before?”

“Wait,” said Zoey, “isn’t he that guy who has cease-and-desist orders from, like, three different bands?”

“Yes! That’s him!” He clicked on something and began scrolling. “Well, he’s popular in the United States.”

“He would be popular in the United States,” Mira grumbled.

“Mira!” Rumi hissed with a pointed glance towards Zoey.

Zoey made an uncertain noise in the back of her throat. “No, she’s right. Celebrity news is very sensationalized over there, it’s actually a really big problem.”

Bobby frowned at his phone. “Mira, I think he was just trying to get a rise out of you. I don’t see any…” His face paled. “Ah. Okay, um… Oh, jeez.”

Mira stuck her hand out. “Let me see.”

“Mira,” Rumi began warningly.

“Give me the phone.”

“Bobby, do not give her the phone!”

“Bobby!”

Part of her felt bad watching the poor man glance between them, torn between Mira wanting to deal with her own family drama and Rumi death-glaring the both of them to leave alone whatever ridiculous comments were made. In the end, Bobby closed his eyes and just stuck the phone out towards them. Mira got to it first, opening the chosen video with one hand and holding Rumi back with the other, ignoring her leader’s protests of “You’re only going to get upset” and “Whatever they have to say isn’t worth it!”

Her brother’s face filled the screen. Just the very sight of him sent so much anger and pain coursing through her veins that she almost crushed the device in her hand.

It opened in the middle of the stupid streamer speaking behind the camera. “-and I am here with Huntrix choreographer Mira’s brother-”

“Do not mention my name,” her brother snapped in that dumb fake uppity accent he’d spoken with since they were children.

“Here with Mira’s brother. So, sir, you’ve seen the video of the infamous Idol Awards performance?”

“Have I seen it?” He chuckled smugly. Mira wanted to smash his face in. “No. No, I have not watched the footage, but I’ve heard more than enough about it. And I am only speaking on it now so you paparazzi types will stop harassing my parents for a statement.”

Of course, he was. Anything to make her look worse while retaining his distinction of the perfect dutiful son.

“I’m an investigative journalist,” the streamer corrected. “And what is your statement?”

Mira gritted her teeth as her brother rolled his eyes. “If my sister is involved, an extremely public fight like that does not surprise me. I am, however, obligated to commend her manager. The way he spun this as an elaborate stunt is a public relations miracle. That is all I am willing to say on the matter. Now please, kindly, leave my family out of this mess.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Rumi snatched the phone away and closed out of the video before handing it back to Bobby.

Mira stared at the floor. If she was involved, a public fight wasn’t surprising? What the hell did that even mean? And the way he said public, like it would’ve been fine if the whole thing had just happened behind closed doors instead. That’s what always made him so much better than her, wasn’t it? She refused to uphold their family image, refused to tone it down, refused to be anything but authentically herself every single second of her life.

Something hateful and dark blossomed in her chest. What right did he have to say anything about this? He didn’t even know what happened!

But then again, neither did she. Not really. Rumi had told her and Zoey the very basics: Takedown started playing and there were demon copies of the two of them and that’s why everyone thought there was a fight. She didn’t give any more details, and the look in her eyes when she told them, the way her voice cracked, how she’d unconsciously covered her patterns… Mira knew not to push further. But now there was this footage of it…

“Mira.” Zoey’s voice brought her back to reality. She looked up into wide, anxious black eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mira said, her voice steady and blunt. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Rumi and Zoey shared a look. “The things he said-”

“Fuck him. I don’t care what he thinks.”

She could see all over their faces that they didn’t believe her, but they didn’t pursue it. Bobby, to his credit, also took the hint and quickly changed the subject to the more positive success of the event. Mira tuned out the moment he said the word “trending.”

Rumi kept a hand on her knee the entire ride home.

When they reached the penthouse and said goodbye to Bobby, Mira headed straight for her room. She heard Zoey start to call after her, only for Rumi to quietly shut her down. Mira almost wished she hadn’t.

She stripped out of her clothes and tossed them unceremoniously in the corner of the room before changing into her pajamas. It didn’t matter that there were still several hours of daylight left. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she grabbed her phone and opened a search engine. She typed Huntrix into the search bar.

The first suggested search was “Huntrix Takedown live.”

Mira closed out of the app, powered her phone all the way down, and stashed it away in the very back of her dresser drawer for good measure. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, she was up and moving with the sunrise. It was strange, being the only one awake in the penthouse. Usually Rumi was the first one up, making coffee or tea for the three of them or workshopping a song in her room, quietly singing or strumming her guitar as Mira passed her door. All she heard now was the soft patter of her own footsteps.

She didn’t bother with coffee or breakfast. She’d get that later, and Zoey liked it when they ate meals together, anyway. Instead, she changed into workout clothes and headed straight for their home gym a few floors down in the building. Past all the machines and free weights was a small section of punching bags and sparring dummies and racks of various weapons. Bobby gave them a weird look when they requested that be put in, but Mira gave some bullshit explanation of martial arts being conducive to better dancing and Celine - fuck her - had backed her up at the time, so he accepted it, albeit still a bit suspiciously.

She picked a wooden staff off a rack and stepped into the center of a mat. At first, she simply moved with it, spinning it in long, smooth motions like she had when she was first learning to use her weapon. It didn’t have the same weight or balance, of course, but she just needed something to move with in the moment. It was calming. Just her in the quiet, the low swish of the staff cutting through the air, falling into her body, distracting herself from-

With my sister involved, a public fight doesn’t surprise me.

Her staff struck a sparring dummy square in the neck. Every muscle in her body tensed. He didn’t know what he was talking about. He wasn’t there.

She struck a body blow.

They hadn’t spoken in years. He had no idea who she was. He never did.

Strike the head, the ribs, jab to the solar plexus.

It wasn’t her on that stage. Whatever it was that Rumi faced, it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her! He wasn’t there!

Flinging the staff aside, Mira roared in frustration and tackled the dummy off the mat and onto the concrete floor. She started punching over and over with all her strength, imagining it was her brother beneath her fists instead of foam and plastic. It was a hit for every disapproving stare, every lecture on maintaining the family’s reputation, protecting their societal standing by erasing everything that made Mira Mira, until they erased her from their lives completely. A hit for every time her brother should have supported her but didn’t, every time he basked in their parents’ praise while she was slowly but surely forced out.

And now he had the nerve to do this? To go on some stupid invasive paparazzi channel and fuck with the family she made for herself? He didn’t have any right!

Mira closed her eyes and hit harder and harder until she couldn’t feel anything, could only hear her pounding heartbeat and the thud of the punches, could only hear-

“Mira! Mira, stop!”

Rumi’s voice rattled her for only a split second, just long enough for her to misjudge a punch. She slammed her fist at full force into solid concrete.

Mira fell back clutching her wrist, her hand already starting to bruise, gritting her teeth to make a growl out of a scream. The fallen sparring dummy was stained red with the blood dripping from her split knuckles. She bit down on a curse as Rumi and Zoey, still in their pajamas, fell to their knees on either side of her.

“What the hell, Mira!” Rumi asked in exasperation, more worried than angry. “What were you doing?”

She refused to answer. She didn’t know how. How could she possibly explain, “I was imagining killing my brother because he brought up the worst day of our lives,” without sounding insane? She just kept her head down and her eyes off Rumi’s expectant stare as Zoey gingerly took her wrist.

She inhaled sharply through her teeth. Zoey loosened her grip. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She turned Mira’s hand over and looked up at Rumi. “It looks broken.”

Rumi rubbed her temple and sighed heavily. “I’m calling Bobby.”

“Do not call Bobby!” Mira hollered, but Rumi was already on her phone across the room, speaking quietly so Mira wouldn’t overhear.

Despite not having it on speaker phone, Mira heard the scream from the other end of the line clear as day.

“Mira did what?!”

#kpdh #k pop demon hunters #mira kpdh #rumi kpdh #zoey kpdh #polytrix #angst #writing #fanfic #bobby kpdh #mira's family kpdh #tw celine

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flowersandskeletons526 · 5 days ago

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"Never Again" - KPDH Polytrix fanfic

Guess who's back on their bullshit! ME! With a brand sparkling new hyperfixation to drag me kicking and screaming out of my writing hiatus!

This is my first time writing them, I tried my best, please be nice. Enjoy!

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“That wasn’t you? Oh, thank goodness!”

The fear written across their faces. The stuttering steps backwards. Zoey’s stare locked on hers. Mira’s eyes tracing along the purplish marks carving their way over her skin.

“No, no, these were supposed to be gone!”

Betrayal and pain twisting Mira’s features. “You were hiding this from us the whole time?”

Rage biting in Zoey’s words. “What else were you lying about?”

“I knew it was too good to be true.”

Rumi’s heart sinks. Mira won’t look at her. “Mira, no! Didn’t you see the gold? We’re so close! We can do this, please, I just need you two with me, just stay with me and we can finish this!”

Mira grabs Zoey’s arm and pulls her back.

“No… Don’t leave…”

Zoey watches her like she’s keeping a rabid animal at bay.

“Don’t leave!”

Anger flares hot and violent in her chest. Why aren’t they listening to her? Why can’t they just listen to her and realize-

“I can still fix it!”

The distorted scream reverberates through the room as flashes of demonic pink race through the honmoon. Mira and Zoey watch the light flicker before their eyes land on Rumi again. Her heart sinks.

“Wait,” she whispers, “wait, I’m sorry, I-I-I didn’t mean to…”

Mira raises her gokdo. “A demon is a demon.”

“Mira, no!”

She swings.

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Rumi awoke thrashing and screaming at the top of her lungs. Two pairs of hands pinned her on the bed, two voices speaking over each other, two presences leaning above her. There were gentle fingers carding through her unbraided hair and trying to keep her steady as she struggled against their hold on her arms. She heard her name over and over interspersed with soothing reassurances and a hissed, “Was she always this strong?”

One of the people above her pressed a hand down on the center of her chest. The comforting pressure slowly ate away at the edges of her panic, the real world filtering back in as the nightmare faded. There was a voice close to her ear whispering, “Rumi, baby, it’s okay. We’re here. We’ve got you.”

Zoey.

“Deep breaths, Rumi, deep breaths. You’re safe.”

Mira.

Rumi’s eyes cracked open. In the dark of her bedroom, barely outlined by the dim light of the city far below, Zoey and Mira leaned over her. Mira had her glasses on, her hair tossed into a messy bun. Zoey wore an old oversized T-shirt from their very first line of merch, worn and tattered from years as a favorite pajama shirt. Both had the same anxious, terrified expression painted across their faces.

The same way they looked at her that awful night.

She squeezed her eyes shut again. Her pulse hammered in her ears until it felt like it was pushing nails through her head, and a strangled groan slipped past her teeth as she finally went limp. Zoey and Mira eased off, still hovering over her but not holding her down anymore. As Mira held her hand, Zoey stroked her hair and brushed her thumb along one of the patterns on her forehead. She leaned into the touch as her heart rate slowed. The mattress dipped as they settled on either side of her.

“Rumi,” Zoey said softly, “can you look at us? Please?” Rumi shook her head, a mistake that only worsened the pain blossoming in her skull. “Rumi, come on. Open your eyes.”

“No,” she mumbled.

Mira sighed and rested a steady hand on her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

“I…” Her stomach turned, the remnants of the nightmare still awfully clear in her mind. “I dreamt about the idol awards.” She felt them stiffen beside her. Mira’s grip on her hand tightened. Zoey’s gentle caresses stuttered to a stop. “W-When we, when we were backstage, I-” She bit back a sob as that fiery panic swelled in her chest again, blooming the way love and pride used to, replaced now with the terrifying thought that her girls would disappear if she opened her eyes. Her voice distorted in her throat. “I’m sorry, I just… You were leaving a-and I didn’t want you to go, I was so scared that you-”

Suddenly, Mira gasped and dropped her hand. Rumi’s eyes flashed open as she forced herself to sit up. Mira’s eyes were wide, her expression tight and unreadable, lips pulling back from clenched teeth. She stared, frozen, at Rumi’s arm. Her face was illuminated by a soft pink light.

Rumi followed her gaze down. To her horror, her skin had darkened into a rotted bluish purple, like a corpse left in the snow. Where she once sported perfectly manicured nails, her fingers themselves lengthened and sharpened into vicious claws. She felt like her soul had been ripped from her chest.

“W-Wait, no, I…” She looked up straight into Mira’s startled eyes, so similar to the way she looked at her the first time she saw her patterns. Rumi yanked her arm back and tried to hide her hand as she willed the claws to go away. “Mira, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-”

“Rumi, hey, it’s okay!” Zoey cut in as she put an arm around Rumi’s shoulders. She reached over to touch Mira’s knee. “Mira…”

But Mira didn’t speak. In her eyes, Rumi saw the same expression she’d worn when she leveled her gokdo at Rumi’s chest.

The words spilled from her in a brokenhearted rush. “Mira, no, don’t leave. Please, please don’t, I can fix this, I can make it go away, I promise, I-”

Mira grabbed Rumi’s wrist with a butterfly-light touch. Carefully, wordlessly, she put Rumi’s arm around her neck and slipped one of her own around Rumi’s waist before pulling her into her lap. Mira held her tight against her chest, strong and steady and solid and real as ever, her breathing measured and even as her fingers dug into her back.

Rumi bristled in the embrace. She didn’t know how much she could reciprocate. She wasn’t sure if she was allowed. Zoey was always one for long lingering hugs, absentmindedly latching onto Rumi whenever she got the chance, but Mira held her like this so rarely. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she ever had, her body completely curled around Rumi’s, shifting so she sat more comfortably in her lap, cradling her head against her chest. It wasn’t until she felt Mira’s tears dripping onto her shoulder that she finally hugged her back.

In the softest voice Rumi had ever heard from her, Mira whispered, “I’m sorry. Never again.”

“Mira?”

“You’re ours. We’re never letting you go again. I promise.”

The tears she’d been holding back for months spilled over. A choked sob tore from her throat, so painful she expected blood to come with it. She clung to Mira like a life preserver in a hurricane, like the final crumbling handhold at the edge of a cliff, and let herself cry wholly and unbidden for the first time in her life. She clutched the fabric of Mira’s shirt in trembling fists and hid her face against her collar bone in an effort to muffle at least some of the sound. Hearing herself only seemed to make it worse, having to face the mortifying reality of fully coming apart and the soul-consuming relief of being with the only two people in the world who would never think any different of her for it.

Mira let go of her with one arm for a split second to pull Zoey into the embrace. Zoey looped an arm around Rumi’s waist and kept the other hand on Mira’s shoulder, leaning close, sheltering her between them. As Mira brushed her fingers through Rumi’s hair, Zoey pressed soft kisses along the back of her neck, whispering, “It’s okay, baby, we’re here. We’ve got you.”

Mira let her body do the talking. She rocked Rumi gently as she leaned back against the headboard, letting Rumi fall into her, strong arms tight around her like the stalwart protector she’d been since Huntrix began. She opened her arms to allow Zoey to cuddle up to her side and continue with her loving affirmations. The younger girl had tears streaming from her eyes now that she periodically paused to wipe away. Mira did the same, switching between trying to keep her own composure, and caressing any part of Rumi’s body she could reach in an effort to soothe the hiccuping sobs wracking her.

Rumi had no idea how long they laid like that, tangled up in each other, her girls’ focus entirely on her, promising everything she ever wanted to hear: they loved her, they would never leave her, and nothing could ever change that. When she finally stopped crying, she couldn’t tell if it was because she actually calmed down or if she simply had no tears left. She decided it was a bit of both. As Mira tangled her fingers in her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp, she took a deep breath and managed to drain at least some of the tension from her body. Zoey’s hand under her shirt pressing into her tight muscles helped with that.

“Are you okay?” Mira ventured after a while, once all three of them had stopped crying.

“Better,” Rumi mumbled, her face still half-hidden against Mira’s chest.

Zoey kissed her temple. “Good.”

Pushing herself up, Mira moved closer to the edge of the bed, dislodging Rumi from her place on top of her. Rumi was later embarrassed to recall how she whined in protest and tightened her grip on Mira, but Mira cooed, “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not leaving. I’m just giving Zoey a spot.”

Rumi let Mira nudge her onto her side as Zoey crawled over them. She glued herself to Rumi’s back, nuzzling against the nape of her neck, slipping a hand under her shirt and brushing her thumb over her abs, as if her only desire was to have as much skin-to-skin contact with her as she could. Rumi couldn’t deny how much it helped.

She melted into Zoey’s touch as Mira put her arms around the pair. She’d always loved that, how effortlessly the dancer could wrap her long limbs around them and keep both of them close at once. Firmly sandwiched between them, she let go of a deep, shuddering breath. She almost started crying again, this time out of comfort and relief. Her mouth moved before she realized what she was saying.

“I love you. So much. I’m sorry.”

“We love you, too, Rumi,” said Zoey, smiling against Rumi’s neck.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Mira assured her. “We’re just glad you’re not hurt.”

Rumi hummed. She tilted her head back, wanting to look Mira in the eye, until she caught sight of something over her shoulder. She frowned and propped herself up on one elbow.

“Um, girls?”

“Yeah?” they said in unison.

“Why is my door off its hinges?”

Zoey and Mira froze. Mira stared forward, like the door in question didn’t exist if she didn’t look at it. Zoey leaned on top of Rumi and laughed sheepishly. “Well, technically, it’s only off one hinge.”

“Zoey.”

“We heard you screaming and came to check on you but your door was locked, so, uh…”

“We kicked your door down,” Mira deadpanned.

“Excuse me, we? No! You!”

“It was Zoey’s idea.”

“It was not!”

As Mira went on teasing Zoey, Rumi felt her chest tighten, her breathing becoming shallow and fast. She always hated having her bedroom door unlocked especially when she slept, hated the idea of being that vulnerable to an attack or a secret being discovered. She understood why they did it, but now the door couldn’t even be closed, let alone locked, and she-

“Rumi, hey, look at me.” Mira turned her head with a light touch on her jaw, her expression devoid of its previous humor, all seriousness and concern. “Do you want to sleep in a different room?”

“I-I, um, I don’t-”

Mira stood and said decisively, “We’ll go to mine. Zoey has too many stuffed animals on her bed.”

Before Rumi could respond, Mira scooped her up in her arms and headed for the door. Rumi squeaked in surprise and instinctively threw her arms around Mira’s neck, clinging to her despite knowing Mira would never drop her. Mira smirked but didn’t say anything. Zoey followed beside them with an arm slung around Mira’s waist.

“That was hot,” she remarked.

“Zoey!” Rumi exclaimed, which only made her laugh. Rumi huffed and hid her face against Mira’s neck as a deep blush spread across her cheeks. “Mira, I can walk.”

“I know,” Mira said softly, “but I want to carry you.”

It only took that one sentence to make her realize exactly how much she didn’t want Mira to let go.

When they got to Mira’s room, Zoey closed and locked the door behind them, and the final nagging fear in Rumi’s mind was put to rest. She didn’t let Mira out of arm’s reach, pulling her into bed by a fistful of her shirt collar as she laid her down. She did the same with Zoey as they all returned to their previous positions. The pillows were cool and smelled like Mira’s cologne and Zoey’s shampoo; a notion that made her heart jump in a way she was not ready to interrogate. As Mira rolled halfway over to set her glasses on her nightstand, Zoey nestled her head in the crook of Rumi’s shoulder.

“I like clingy Rumi,” she murmured, fingers trailing over the patterns on Rumi’s side.

“I could definitely get used to this,” Mira agreed. She kissed the bridge of Rumi’s nose. “If you want that.”

Rumi short circuited. With the terror of the nightmare and the minor panic about the busted door over and done with, there was nothing to distract her from the fact that she was, indeed, laying in Mira’s bed with the two people closest to her in the world pressed flush against her on both sides. She couldn’t think enough to form words, not with Zoey still tracing the shimmering marks beneath her shirt and the low rumble of Mira’s voice reverberating through her chest.

All she could do was close her eyes and latch onto them as her limbs grew heavy with the promise of sleep, safe and secure and protected between them. She felt a light kiss on her forehead and one on her neck before Zoey whispered, “Get some rest, baby.”

Rumi smiled as she drifted off. “I love you.”

“We love you, too.”

#kpdh #k pop demon hunters #mira kpdh #rumi kpdh #zoey kpdh #polytrix #huntrix #fanfic #writing #fluff and angst #post canon #I am getting a feel for writing them #this was just something short and (kinda) sweet to start #kind of implied established zoemira?

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