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yiga-hellhole · 6 months ago

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TFTK CHAPTER 20: ENDURING RESOLVE

Ganondorf has gone into hiding. His two most loyal servants guard the desert in his stead. Hyrule approaches, knowing not what kind of death awaits them, deep beneath the sands. Zant tests out his blade.

FINALLY DONE! sooo sorry my beloved tumblr readerbase. this update has been available on ao3 for a little over a week now, but i had to steam through a pretty bad art block to get this promo image done exactly how i liked it. so without further ado, here it is!! i have a real doozy for you all today! again, thanks so much to @bulgariansumo and @orfeoarte for betareading the chapter! there's a couple secret languages in this chapter again... thanks very much to @unironicallycringe for helping me with figuring out Akkadian. as for the translations, well... you go puzzle it out!

content warnings this chapter for: graphic violence, animal death, medical gore, domestic violence/physical abuse (for lack of a better term)

ao3 mirror

They rose before the sun had even fully set, thieving their love-nest of its purpose hours too early. Any preparations they could do, save donning arms and armor, would have been too late in this final moment before battle, but they had to be ready to defend themselves at any moment. The air was tense, dead-silent so as not to alert any potential enemy scouts. But in that deep silence, every nervous sigh, every jingle of chainmail, grated the ears from miles away.

So sat Zant in his chambers, eyelids still thick and heavy with sleep, but nonetheless perched at the edge of his bed, gazing out into the night sky. Ghirahim lied where he’d left him, sunken into his pillows and layers of sheets. In this companionable silence, there was as much to be said, as there was a lack of words to convey them. Indecision to what topic could suit the last hours before this all-out battle, they spoke of nothing at all. Yet there was deep understanding in it, a bond between them that only needed a glance of the eye to be conveyed.

Pacing anxiously was unnecessary. Ghirahim lay comfortable; to him, nothing enriched the soul like battle, and he was ready to rise every minute of the day. No need for armor, for food, for a minute to come to his senses. He could jump up the second the warning horns blared.

Thus, he dozed, his eyes on the tense Twili beside him until they wandered to the portrait above him. When had he moved it above his bed, he wondered? To think a man so reserved could be so vain. The gold of its canvas glittered in the weak light, egging on the stars in the sky beyond with its own splendor. Ghirahim felt a smile creep up on him and his eyes drew to a close.

He didn’t quite keep track of how long he lay there simply sifting through the favorite contents of his core, before that line of thought was interrupted, and a warm static forced itself through his mental imagery. It started deep in his chest, washing over his every extremity in waves. His skin tingled, his breath hitched. A contented sigh dragged out from him and joined the warm air in the room. This feeling, how long ago it was since he last felt it. It could only be…

Sat on the carpet beside the window was Zant, the Demon Scimitar before him. Moonlight could not hope to pierce the deep black of their blade; their masterpiece was a shadow among shadows. A vibrant teal glow pulsed throughout the veins in its fuller, like light beneath the ocean waves. That glow slowly grew richer, occasionally interrupted by the stroke of a cloth across the blade.

Ghirahim shuddered. There was the source of that odd feeling, that sent shivers up his back and caused his face and stomach to flush an embarrassing red. Soon Zant caught him staring at him past the mound of sheets and met his eyes – glowing, giving him no choice but to witness them – with a smile.

“Pardon me. Did I disturb you?”

“Disturb is a strong word,” Ghirahim said, unable to suppress a shuddering groan. From fingerguard to its point, the cloth rubbed away every speck of dust and smudge of oil.

The sound that escaped him piqued Zant’s interest immediately. Eyes that should pay attention to the razor-sharp edge of their sword widened at him. “You can feel this?”

Taps of powder against the blade. Puff, puff, little clouds of white dissipating in the gentle breeze. “To some degree, yes.”

Bright, amber eyes narrowed. “What is it like?”

Adjusting comfortably, Ghirahim sank back into the sheets, hiding half of his face. He stared him down no lesser, though. “There is hardly any equal to this feeling, Zant,” he hummed, pleased by the sensation of gentle polishing. “But if I had to describe it… Something akin to having my hair brushed, or hands stroking my back, I suppose.”

Zant’s eyes turned to the sword, now carrying a certain spark. He beheld it in a different light. “I see. How fortunate to know.”

Ghirahim shifted, curling himself in the mass of sheets to get a better look at his machinations, but without abandoning the glow of their joint warmth. Their companionable silence returned, the quiet room filled only with the whisper of cloth against metal, and the gentle churning of his core. Warmth buzzed through him in waves, like fingers with long nails tapping and tracing the features deep in his chest. That so-abstract sensation turned ever warmer, more squeezing, when that familiar smell of cloves arose, and Zant turned to oiling the blade. Ghirahim cocked his head, watching intently. “Tending to it again? So soon?”

Zant only glanced at him before returning to his focus. “Our sword is in its infancy, Ghirahim. It has to be nourished in its first year.”

“You’ve done your homework,” Ghirahim smirked.

“You hardly gave me any choice, Ghirahim-hasir,” Zant smirked right back.

Another honorific! He laughed fondly, ever-so-amused by Zant’s habit of slipping into mother tongue. “That one is new! What nonsense are you up to, this time?”

“No more than usual,” Zant hummed, a touch of cheer in his voice. “Now get back under the covers and leave me to do my bidding. We must be in top shape before dawn, you and I,” he crooned, stroking the cloth down their blade in emphasis.

Ghirahim smiled, sighed, and complied.

That morning, Hyrule conquered the southern settlements in a matter of minutes. The market streets the pair had grown so familiar with, committed to memory through the smells of spices, pastries, and smoked meat alone, decimated at once. Not that they’d made it particularly difficult for their adversaries; a minimal amount of monstrous troops were stationed there. This was their bait. A little trick tucked in falsely heightened morale, to fool the Hyruleans into thinking them weaker than they were. Besides, the locals stationed within sight would surely be healthily enraged by the sight of their beloved settlement being torn to the ground. Zant had planned for a bloody start.

The two of them were thoroughly locked away in the North. The Gerudo Temple Complex was a dark and swirling thing, a monumental goliath of sandstone and brick, its dimly lit corridors designed to trap anyone outside the clergy in the bowels. Deep within, it hid the Coliseum. A holy ground to desert peoples, later desecrated by Hyrule and turned into an executioner’s oubliette. Better known as, ‘The Arbiter’s Grounds’. Since its reclamation by the Gerudo (according to Zant, one of the few good things brought on by shattering the Mirror of Twilight), Hyrule was to never touch it again. The labyrinth would guard it for as long as it stood.

In other words, it was the ideal place to watch the battle unfold from afar. Their intel detected signs of three commanders: Link, the Goddess’ favored hero; Lana, still missing her counterpart; and an unfamiliar Sheikah warrior. Knowing the Hyruleans, they likely had more tricks up their sleeves. They needed caution above all.

Zant was eerily silent for most of their stay, retreating within his helmet. Had Ghirahim not known any better, he would have suspected him of sleeping on the job again. On the contrary, the Twili could not have been more alert. The ace up their sleeve was heaving and buzzing restlessly deep underground below their feet. The Twilit Bloat, Queen Mother of Zant’s favorite pets, spent days spewing forth countless Shadow Insects, which he’d hidden away in every nook and cranny he thought would make a decent vantage point. They were acting as his eyes in the field and to keep track of them all required his utmost concentration.

Until at long last Zant withdrew from meditation, the segments of his helmet squeaking as he straightened himself and turned toward his co-lieutenant.

“They are inching closer to the oases. While they busy themselves there, now is the best time to start our preparations,” he said, beckoning him with a wave of his hand as he made his way through the keep.

Ghirahim, glad to finally have something to do, grinned. “You mean to set up the… Shadow puppets, you mentioned, yes?”

“I have told you of my plan,” Zant agreed, scaling the steps to the decrepit altar at the center of the Coliseum. His visor rolled up to reveal a grin. “But not yet of its execution. It should be most familiar to you, however,” he turned, his hand outstretched and palm facing the skies.

Ghirahim smirked and followed, taking his hand to have him lead him further up the steps. An arm curled around his waist, and he rested his on Zant’s shoulder in return. “How courteous of you, Twilight King. Won’t prancing about distract you from your own casting, though?”

Zant smiled in turn. With a small pull at his waist, they quickly sank into a rhythm, waltzing under the sunbeams that peeked through the stone walls. “We must enact our spell in utter synchronicity, Ghirahim-ili. This is the best way.”

A pulse coursed through him. Diamonds rose from their footprints, flickering with signs of their blooming magic. The beating of their feet and chiming of his core accompanied their dance like a dozen tambourines. Through their joined hands, sparks of power crossed into one another, melting together until the pictures in their minds became clear as day, a single being.

“I shall be the source, and you, my conduit. My power is yours to steer, puppeteer of mine,” Zant’s words echoed, but Ghirahim couldn’t be sure if they came from his lips, or snuck into his mind without his notice. How cheeky.

And soon, that power manifested into being. Rising from the shadows, Ghirahim’s second pair of eyes came into view – or rather, he came into its view. A second Ghirahim took shape, its features growing more defined by the second. Terrible vertigo struck him, causing a temporary lapse in his steps. There was a disconnect, a duplication of his sight, but no identical one. He could see through his own body but through his double’s, too. His core swirled as he looked himself in the eye, standing in the sand with its muted colors and stiff stance.

“It’s easier if you close your eyes,” Zant whispered with a low croon, “try not to think. Let me lead you, my Blade.”

Easier said than done, he’d say, did it not make such a drastic difference. Ridding himself of his second-sight made it all the easier to at least gather his bearings without the spinning surroundings there to distract him. But reaching this double somatically remained a challenge. It was like trying to steer a phantom limb. The tether was weak, but undeniably there, and getting it to move was akin to timidly pressing the keys on an old harpsichord. All the while this buffoon requested him to dance.

But that was the trick, wasn’t it? Channeling their magic? He was no stranger to their bodies becoming one, in many senses of the term. It wasn’t just his own magic he had to focus on, but the force linking its fingers with it, too.

Synchronicity. The picture through the eyes of his double became vibrant and clear as day.

His double twitched its fingers until they were veritably his, then took a stumbling step. Then another. Then more, stably, rolling its shoulders and bouncing on its heels. The shuffling of dancing feet was soon nothing but background noise, far removed from where his mind settled. Housed in this spectral clone, Ghirahim grinned, braced his fingers, and snapped.

The desert heat felt like room temperature. Or rather, like nothing at all, in this doubly-false skin. Having teleported himself, he stood a ways from the Southern Oasis, surveying his surroundings. Friend nor foe had spotted him yet, concealed as he was by the heat shaking the sights of their surroundings, but they’d have no choice than to witness him soon. He sprinted across the desert, intending to snicker to himself, only to find not a sound passed his lips.

A gap in their illusion. How embarrassing it would have been! What if he had attempted to taunt their foe, only to be caught missing his voice? He quickly suppressed the urge to scold Zant for failing to inform him of this flaw. To cause dissonance between his two selves would collapse their plans like a house of cards. Which, obviously, he couldn’t afford, as he was already perched on the walls of the Oasis Keep, staring right into fiery red eyes that pierced into him with malice.

The Sheikah man would be his first opponent.

His perch high up above did nothing to deter this stranger whatsoever. A long dagger whistled through the air just past Ghirahim’s ear, missing him only thanks to his own last-minute dodge. Ghirahim hadn’t yet the chance to righten himself before his adversary took a running start and leapt against the corner wall, kicking himself off to clamber up and meet him at eye level. It hadn’t even taken him five seconds to get to him.

This was going to be interesting. Ghirahim knew he couldn’t lose his composure so early in the battle, but a warrior so quick and nimble made the stars dance in his core. The Sheikah was upon him in a split second, a long knife in each hand, eyes red and full of death. His strikes were lightning-fast and precise, but not fast enough to break past Ghirahim. This man was an entirely different territory from that white-haired dog. Where Impa combined her tremendous speed with heavy blows, her replacement depended entirely on the fleetness of his feet. And it carried him well. The two of them danced across the walls, locking blades like a pair of cats fighting atop a fence.

But, truthfully, Ghirahim was only humoring him. Against another human, the slashes of the Sheikah’s knives would have been lethal. But to Ghirahim, razor edges struck his sword with gentle taps at most. He had to put this boy in his place. Hilt in both hands, he boldly raised his blade to bait him with an opening – swung down quickly, to bait a crossing of knives, and catch his sword in between.

The Sheikah were a near-ageless folk, living potentially centuries longer than Hylians, if they so chose. This very moment, the Sheikah proved his youth, his inexperience, despite his prodigal martial skill. He acted exactly as Ghirahim predicted.

Now locked, Ghirahim shot him a grin, before pushing his bulk into his sword and tossing him sideways. The Sheikah shouted in surprise, stumbled. With the assistance of a showy flip and roll, he dropped off the wall and down into the dirt, quickly righting himself in fear of being ambushed.

Not a second too late! Ghirahim leaped for him, point of his sword aimed for the heart. Or, rather, aimed for the dirt, as the Sheikah darted away quickly. The pair exchanged blows, barraged each other with throwing knives, but their mutual bulk and speed resulted in nothing more than superficial injuries.

Ghirahim couldn’t outspeed him. So, he’d just have to surprise him, instead. With only a small chime to announce his departure, Ghirahim disappeared into diamonds and landed himself square in the Sheikah’s way. The boy gasped in surprise, only barely managing to stumble out the way of the obsidian sword that flew toward him in a pitch-black streak. Now, all bets were on discombobulating his foe. The Sheikah was forced to face him more carefully, locked in a fierce combat. For every escape, every attempt at sprinting away for another trick, he was punished by the phantom that appeared in his shadow and threatened to rend him to pieces.

Dark blue Sheikah armor tore to show flashes of skin and bleeding gashes, staining a deeper red every second. But Ghirahim found himself not as unscathed as he’d normally be – this puppet was fragile, meaning even the small enchantments on this warrior’s knives could hurt him. It wasn’t the same pain as he’d feel on his surface when injured. This was a magical, conjured pain, manifesting as a headache and stuttering of his core. But, injuries or not, he was winning. The Sheikah was slowing, growing into an easier target for his thrusts and merciless cleavings with every pace. And there he darted off again, some desperate manner of escaping! Of stalling time! Blood hung in the air, its particles catching delectably on his lolling tongue. He chased its source hungrily, wishing so it was his true self instead who would get to kill this wretched little thing, a mere pup in comparison to his superior. Ghirahim ached to run him through with this blade! Just a few more paces, another leap –

There was a track in the sand. In the corner of his eye, he spotted another. The Sheikah stopped at the joining of lines, readying something curved and golden.

The harp. The harp! His eyes shot to the Sheikah, who grinned at him with a squint, fingers at the ready over his blasted holy implement. Ghirahim looked back to the ground, where he now spotted an outline… And himself spot in the middle of it. An ominous hum, a faded glow, resonant below him as fingertips tensed the strings. Ghirahim turned to flee, but a second too late. With a mockingly cheerful tune, the magic glyph was activated, and a blinding field of light magic launched him out the gates of the Oasis Keep.

He skidded to a halt, clouds of sand trailing his heels as they coursed through. In his concealment, he was fortunate to find his first flaw; a black patch, crackling on the surface of his puppet. Their illusion was falling apart.

Now is the time to flee.

They thought it simultaneously, with Ghirahim immediately annoyed by Zant’s meddling.

Shielded by this cloud of sand, he turned tail and fled. Soon enough, fleeted feet dashed through the sand a little ways behind him.

Just like he wanted! Bloodlust made blind!

The next phase of their plan was imminent. He had to cross the sands to get to the cliffs, where he could funnel this little songbird into its cage. This seemed easier said and done, because the Sheikah’s tendency to make pot-shots at the enemy made it increasingly more difficult to conceal the black cracks left on his surface. He kicked up as much sand as he could in his sprint to keep himself shielded from prying eyes.

It was a mad chase. In short bursts, his adversary seemed to be faster than him, leading him to blink around to get away from the scatter of needles flying his way. A haphazard, zigzagging trail of metal pins traced their trajectory. Yet, the Sheikah seemed to be letting him escape, at least a little bit. Did he hope he was fleeing to some kind of hideout, and lead him straight there? Oh, if only he knew!

It was a good thing he didn’t. They crossed into the Cliffs Keep, revealing a dead end. Realizing it’d been a trap, before the Sheikah could fully turn, the gates slammed shut behind them.

The enraged eyes of a cornered animal met with a dark grin. The two men flung at one another, daggers in hand. But Ghirahim felt weakened – the magic holding this form together barely persisted through its many cracks, and it was slowing his reflexes. To save himself some power, he dismissed the false cape, at once revealing the web of deep black fractures spreading across his skin.

This staggered the Sheikah for a moment, but baited him all the same. Daggers crossed, he lunged forward, and drove the tips towards his core. They tangled, tipped over, and landed in the sand, Ghirahim pinned between steel and soil.

For all this man knew, this was how a Sword Spirit died. The daggers sank into his chest, and Ghirahim let the illusion crackle into shards with a pained groan.

But not before leaving his parting gift. The Sheikah choked out a breath, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Ghirahim had driven a dagger right into his side.

He didn’t have the privilege to see if this caused his opponent to collapse or not, for his eyes caved into dust soon after this deceitful blow. Then followed the rest of his body, leaving only a cackle to fade on the wind.

Deep black turned into an outrageously bright light. With a gasp, Ghirahim came to, finding himself held up by Zant’s arms. Never before had he felt this unsteady on his feet, this jittery like a newborn foal. His shadowy double was gone, which left him to deal with the dizziness of returning to his body. How convenient that this animate coat rack of a man was there to assist him in doing so.

Ghirahim patted Zant on the sleeve, wobbling to righten himself. “Deliciously dramatic timing, Twilight King.”

“Thanks. I thought so too.”

Zant laughed, patiently assisting Ghirahim through the last seconds of his vertigo. Once Ghirahim collected himself, Zant parted from him, again turning his gaze meditatively to the skies. “We shall let them struggle with this predicament for a little while. Then, I will take your place on the battlefield, Ghirahim-ili.”

The battle unfolded just about how they expected it would. The gates they so merrily left open were breached by opportunistic troops zealously at first, but with the imprisonment of their Sheikah general, anxious caution took the wheel. Nevertheless, critical movement took place: Lana, who had been moving through the desert, succeeded in capturing the Northern Oasis; while Link, having first guarded their home base in the Bazaar, crossed the southern sands to attempt a rescue mission.

This was their cue. While their demonic troops clashed against Link’s brigade, Zant hopped back on his feet, extending his hands.

“Care to assist me once more?”

Locked again in dance, they watched as a shadowy form knitted into being by their pedestal. The illusory shape of Zant, darker and more muted than usual, readied itself for its host. Much to Ghirahim’s chagrin, Zant was clearly more adept than he at shifting his consciousness, as his double was up and moving in mere seconds.

“You close your eyes too, Ghirahim-ili.”

“Then who will keep watch of where we’re putting our feet? Moron.”

Ghirahim jested, but nonetheless allowed himself a brief respite, and did as he was told. Behind his darkened eyelids, he saw (though subtly) the world through the eyes of Zant’s shadowy double. He briefly worried if Zant had been spying along with him, too. Then, he felt some smug satisfaction in the knowledge, as he thought he’d made for a riveting battle just then.

Not a second longer did Zant let his puppet stick around and promptly sent it away. Just in time for Ghirahim to spin the both of them around and prevent them from tumbling off the altar.

Ghirahim’s impressions of this battle were vague, bestowed upon him in flashes through Zant’s incomprehensible sense of sight. The world was a blur of overly saturated colors in the Twili’s eyes, splitting into sharply defined contours at every moving object. Of course, the rapidly approaching emerald green and blue was then clear as day, as was the glowing blade that cut through the air towards him.

But Link could not land a single hit on the Usurper’s false shape. Zant blinked himself across the sand and clapped his hands pompously, a playfully mocking tribute to Ghirahim’s favored spellcasting. At once, every gate in the battlefield slammed shut, isolating the three generals in their own death traps.

Wrathful Gerudo, Bulblins, and Stalfos poured from whatever crevice they could force themselves through to descend upon the now-isolated warriors. Whether they would surpass the Hyruleans in martial prowess remained to be seen, but surely, they’d leave not a shred of their morale untouched.

Yet Zant led the Goddess’ little hero away from the onslaught, seeming to prefer a one-on-one duel, though there’d be nothing honorable about it. This battle was an absolute waste of time, drudging Link along through the scorching desert to chase after his constantly teleporting apparition. Even if his opponent couldn’t hear it, Zant couldn’t help but giggle. With such a jovial mood, one would expect victory, but aside from Zant’s violent retaliations, his health rapidly failed him. Not only was his double on the verge of collapse, but nearly every hack and slash it endured bore down on its host. Dancing with a smile, blood gushed from Zant’s nostrils with every hit he took. Ghirahim doubted whether the desperation on his double’s part was an act – it contorted, stomped, flailing its arms and hurling wild bolts of magic at whatever blue banner-bearing shape it could see. But Zant seemed at peace, even as his puppet raised its arms to ready a bomb of pure, hexing shadow, only to find itself ran straight through by the Knight’s holy blade.

At once, the tether to their puppet was gone.

“... That’s it… Our first ruse is up,” Zant mumbled, before slumping forward, just barely caught by Ghirahim’s frame. The blood trickling from his nostrils was worrying still, so Ghirahim allowed him to collapse, lowering him carefully to sit at the edge of the pedestal. Yet, Zant declined any fussing over him, preferring instead to retreat into his mind again and survey the damage they’d done. With his ‘death’, every single gate in the battlefield flew back open – save for the Temple complex. Sitting side by side, Zant relayed what he saw through the eyes of his countless insect servants. Among the Hyruleans, there was relief, rallying cries spreading through the battlefield as they once again rushed forth to seize new territory. Their own forces still held fast. The defeat of their Lieutenants sowed seeds of anxiety, which their captains and commanders did not allow to sprout among the common infantry. Though the full plan of today was relayed to very few, every officer of repute knew not to lose hope when all seemed over.

They’d seen the captured beasts in their chains, after all, and had yet to see them surface in this battle.

One unexpected problem remained. When the gates to the Sheikah commander’s imprisonment were opened, he was already long gone. The trail of blood scaling the cliff wall toward the Temple clued them in where he could have gone. He was trapped in here with them, somewhere. Zant seemed to take nothing but amusement in that thought.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for a surge in confidence among the Hyruleans that would raise their might and lower their guard. If this took mere minutes or hours, then the blood spilled to tip the scales would simply have to be an acceptable sacrifice. Time ticked away mostly in silence. On occasion, Zant orated an update from the battlefield with his vacant, manic gaze. Ghirahim stared at the man beside him, bloodstained as he was, and wondered how far the gray blight had crawled up his arms today.

Zant perked up sooner than Ghirahim expected and turned to him. “Their bases are almost settled. They are transporting their goods. Now is the time, Ghirahim. Will you do the honors?”

Ghirahim grinned. “Gladly.”

Within a blink, Ghirahim disappeared from the Arbiter’s Grounds and materialized far below the earth. Deluge streams of sand poured down from above – he found himself in an underground cave, discovered long ago by the Gerudo when digging for water reservoirs. Quicksand pools from above fed this ever-filling chamber with gold, like an hourglass that would never tip. Behind him was a nearly-buried gate leading to the old waterways. In front of him were cages. He didn’t want to keep the beasts inside waiting any longer; he’d kept them unfed a little too long. They frothed at the sight of him, spurred on by Zant’s blood caked into his suit.

“You’ll find something far tastier on the surface, my dears!”

One, two, three showy snaps of his fingers, and the chains bearing the monsters down disappeared. With a flex of his hands, his fist cloaked itself in glowing, purple magic. He took a running start, heading straight for the back of the cages (where the monsters’ eyes hungrily followed him), and launched himself at the massive lever that stood there. With one solid punch, the old mechanism screeched back to life, and past all its rust, the switch was flicked. A rattling that could only be produced by a machine at the end of its life echoed throughout the room. Tugged upwards by heavy chains, the cage doors were lifted, and out stormed their inhabitants.

But before they could make for the little creature that stood antagonizing them, a cascade of sand cued them in on the blue skies above. A ring tunnel of diamond magic pried open the quicksand pitfall in the ceiling and allowed these beasts the first glimpse of sunshine they’d seen in weeks.

Not to mention, the smell of fresh carcasses.

The Manhandla, a four-headed, man-eating plant; threw itself against the wall and clambered up through its web of roots. The Molduga, the very giant sandworm Ghirahim had stolen away scarce a month earlier; took to the skies and flew through the opening. The Lanmola, a cyclopean centipede; swam up the stream of sand.

But that was merely the first wave. This was the Southern Desert’s treat: the North would get its very own collection of nuisances. His next teleportation took him to the mesas in the northeast, where six pairs of eyes furiously eyed him down from within their cave prison. The caverns in these rocky mountains were straightforward tunnels, opening right into the deserts. After opening the cages, all he had to do was give them an incentive to break free.

So, naturally, he brought the entire cave to a collapse. As soon as the beasts panickedly rushed out of their prisons, Ghirahim snapped his fingers and perched himself on the Mesa’s edge, overlooking the monsters’ exit holes.

The first to break free were the two Dodongos, bulky, rock-clad lizards; curled up and rolling, shot out like cannonballs. Then came the Helmaroc King, a giant prismatic bird; shrieking wildly and leaving a storm of feathers in its wake as it beat its wings and flew off. Finally, poking out one head after the other, came the Gleeok, the three-headed dragon; with stout little legs and clumsy, serpentine necks, it sauntered to the mouth of the tunnel somewhat timidly. But at the first sight of prey below, it roared viciously and spread its draconic wings, and set off in pursuit of violence.

Ghirahim returned to his post at once, finding Zant just as vacant as he’d left him, but with far greater amusement sketching his face. The Twili didn’t appear to notice him as he sidled up next to him, hands in his sides.

“Satisfied by my handiwork, Twilight King?”

“More than, Yima Zeeioitneit,” he responded. Zant had cleaned himself up a bit in his absence, but was looking no less gaunt. “Would you like to see the fruits of your labor?”

“Gladly, I would,” Ghirahim said, keeping his apprehension about Zant’s intrusive, meddling magic to himself.

Zant shook himself out of his daze, at once standing with his eyes bright and glowing. “Then allow me some time to recuperate. I will share my clairvoyance with you in the meantime, Ghirahim-ili.”

Before Ghirahim could utter a word of questioning or protest, Zant’s shape turned pitch-black, becoming no more than a silhouette with shining eyes. A rustle sounded as the shade before him ducked down and turned into nothing more than a smudge, and, shockingly… Melted into the floor. Just like that, Zant seemed to have crawled into his shadow. There was the alarming presence of magic, certainly, but otherwise, he felt not a thing of it. At least, not until Zant fulfilled his promise. Ghirahim then learned, intimately, just what he meant by ‘clairvoyance’.

A sudden burst of droning visions took over his sight, shaking him into an unsightly stumble. Each flashed by for mere seconds before Zant flicked him over to the next, all blurring into the same haze. Only after sitting there, hands in his hair and groaning audibly, did he piece together just what he was looking at. It seemed that Zant had planted more of his Shadow Insects on the skulls of their monsters, and thus, allowed the both of them front-row seats to each individual rampage.

To the north, the Helmaroc crested to dizzying heights, carefully eyeing its companions. Yards below it, the Gleeok was circling the desert, scarcely avoiding flurries of arrows from piercing its wings. It found its point of interest in a line of provision wagons, which already had its many hands full with the giant lizards besieging it from both sides. Claws extended, it swooped down in an instant, plowing through the line of them with its razor-sharp talons.

Now out of a meal, the twin Dodongos sought their fortune elsewhere. They turned straight to the oasis, where they expected to rake in the biggest rewards, only to find the place heavily guarded. Grimoire in hand, Sorceress Lana nervously eyed down the two approaching beasts. She was a nimble woman, swiftly evading raking claws and blazing fire, but she did not take well to being surrounded. From the eyes of this Dodongo, she swooped in dangerously close. Just as the massive reptile thought to swallow her down in one gulp, a large, translucent cube was lodged in its gullet, and with the touch of the Sorceress’ hand, electrified. It shrieked and convulsed, reflexively clamping its jaws hard enough to crack its teeth, and just like that, collapsed.

This Dodongo was down for the count. But before its Shadow Insect died with it, it captured just a few more seconds. From the sound of blazing fire and the screams of their opponent, the beast’s twin appeared to hold fast.

The southern desert was similarly infested. The Manhandla had dug its roots throughout the sand, sprouting additional heads across the desert to drown it in a poisonous haze. Soon, only the dead could wander here, and the very bold. Those who dared approach the floral menace disappeared quickly past its massive teeth. Monitoring this monster led the pair of lieutenants to begrudgingly note that one of its four heads seemed to have gotten hacked off somewhere along the way. Though, they doubted they minded. If the victory was all too crushing, there would not have been any honor in it. Much less satisfaction.

This next vision was fully dark, until it burst with sudden light. How the fragile insect managed to cling on to this creature through all the sand was a mystery. From the shrill bellowing, these could only have been the sights of the Molgera, soaring through the skies in pursuit of prey. And what a target it had chosen! Skidding away from the sandworm, bow and arrow boldly drawn but visibly alarmed, was their favorite green-clad menace, his blue scarf long lost in the scuffle. He had felled the Lanmola in record time. From the look in his eyes, that wouldn’t be his only trophy of today. Whether he would fulfill that ambition was another question. The Molgera roared and dove for him, but shrieked when an arrow pierced it someplace unseen, and veered off course. It burrowed beneath the sand once more, plunging their vision in darkness. Through the roaring of sand surging past the giant beast, there was a sound; footsteps, hurrying away. The Molgera homed in on its source and launched for the surface.

It breached, it opened its maw. A scream was heard, then muffled by the resounding clap of the Molgera’s jaws snapping shut. As the Molgera twisted itself through the air, not a trace of the Hero of Legend remained.

Cackles and shouts of triumph and astonishment echoed through the Arbiter’s Grounds. Had the Twili stood beside him, rather than lie hidden in his shadow, Ghirahim would have embraced him and thrown him around the arena for good measure. What an undignified end for the little Hylian! Ghirahim was ecstatic. Already he swell with pride over the thought of informing their Master of this victory. The pair of them sang praises of this magnificent sandworm. Even after they’d treated it so cruelly, it hadn’t let them down in the slightest. Whether it could hear their words conveyed through the Shadow Insect, wasn’t their concern.

Amidst their celebration, the Molgera suddenly groaned. Shuddered. Slowed in its flight. It contorted itself, squeaking in pain, until it tore its mouth open in a shriek. The Shadow Insect lost all functionality. Its host could only be dead.

What happened? It was in the air – how had it perished!?

Zant apparently had the same questions. He frantically browsed through the Insects still alive, until he found a proper view of the events through the eyes of the Manhandla. The Molgera fell from the skies, its spiked belly slit wide open. A rain of blood and guts splattered onto the ground before its multi-ton body hit the sand, sending forth an explosive dust cloud to shroud the battlefield from all.

Surfacing from that shroud, visible through the makeshift sandstorm by a glowing silhouette, was a newcomer to today’s battlefield. Fi, doll-faced as ever, but her blue gemstone surface now tainted with viscera, had surfaced from the Hero’s blade, and freed her ‘Master’. Offering her wing, she stuck herself halfway into the Molgera’s eviscerated stomach to pull Link free, soaked in mucus and blood. The morbidity of it all seemed completely lost on her gentle smile, as she stood watching him gather himself.

Ghirahim grit his teeth. “It seems they’ve taken a page out of our book, Twili… They’re hiding commanders!”

“And where there is one, there may be more. They think they have us for fools.”

With the appearance of Fi, a Hyrulean war horn sounded in the Southern Desert. The troops in the North responded. Surfacing from Lana’s shadow was none other than Midna, who immediately clenched a keratin fist around the head of an ambushing Bulblin commander. A sense of fury bubbled forth from his shadow, and lingered somewhere in Ghirahim, too. But as much as the arrival of the Twilight Princess spelled trouble, something about her appearance soothed Zant’s mood into a bubbly giggle.

She was an imp again.

The war horn sounded in the North. Two responded; one from the Western mesas, and one from the South. Through the eyes of the Helmaroc King, a far more alarming sight poured into the desert. The troops they had fought so deftly to thin out were filling their numbers again. Vast swathes of Zora and Gorons arrived through glowing portals and raced to assist the overthrown Keeps. Only to then clash against equally large numbers of frothing demon forces, pushing each other back and forth past a faultline of trampled steel. This visceral desperation of gnashing teeth and battered armor only left the frontlines in stasis for so long. The Zora Princess, her arrival announced by a tidal wave sweeping along her own troops in massive schooling, forced an opening through the simple measure of washing away everything in her path. She came out the other end of the first line of infantry clad in silvery armor, spear in hand, looking back at the dizzied and drowning mass of demonic forces behind her. This very measure would carry her to the northern desert, where she quickly joined Lana’s side.

Lana startled when the Dodongo just in front of her was sucked into a maelstrom and launched across the sands. When she turned to find Ruto, some sort of sentimental conversation was surely being carried out. Watching from the Gleeok still soaring above the keeps, neither Ghirahim nor Zant cared to hear it. Their despairing, confused prattles were far more interesting.

The Gleeok swept in closer, ducking out the way of an impending lightning bolt sent from the Sorceress’ grimoire.

“I don’t understand, Ruto,” Lana cried. “Ghirahim and Zant were defeated, but their armies haven’t slowed down whatsoever!”

Ruto intercepted an incoming belch of fire with a watery shield, bursting it apart in glittering projectiles as she dismissed it. The Gleeok shrieked when one of its many eyes was pierced. “Desperation, it must be. It takes a pair of cowardly men like them to rig such posthumous traps!”

“Are we sure it was really them Sheik and Link defeated?” Midna cut in, surfacing from Lana’s shadow to glare down the limping Dodongo in the distance. “Like you said. They’re cowards! I’ll bet my entire treasury that the foes we saw were nothing more than illusions!”

A troubled expression dawned on Lana, which soon turned to anger. She burst out in front of the Zora Princess, spellbook at the ready, and sent out another burst of lightning. Though, this one was different. It broke apart like fireworks, each spark lighting its own deadly branch, that darted in zig-zags through the air. The Gleeok, hopeless to dodge such a flurry, lost one of its wings to countless tears and perforations and then crashed to the ground.

Before the beast could stomp its way inside the keep, Lana blocked its entrance with a crackling barrier and whipped around to look at her companions. “Then- The real Ghirahim and Zant… They must be hiding somewhere, commanding from afar!”

“Oh, they can’t be that far. Those two draw to carrion more than a common fly,” Midna grimaced, squinting to peer out into the scorching desert. “Just so happens, I got just the trick up my sleeve to get to the bottom of this. Ruto! Cover me!”

Ruto nodded, readying her spear to join Lana’s side. Lana’s barrier did not hold much longer. Every passing second, the Gleeok was driven to madness by two voices balking commands into its triplet minds, and could only think to throw itself at the magical wards harder. Finally, it burst through, and wasted not a moment to start snapping at the two warriors in its way. Lana fought grimoire in hand, turning scattered parchment into razor-sharp projectiles, while Ruto threatened every impending bite with a thrust of her spear.

While the Gleeok was rapidly losing scales to the combined assault, Midna stretched out her hand, readying a spell amidst the chaos. A gap tore itself through the fabric of reality, manifesting as a spreading shadow on the ground, soon thrumming and glowing with runes.

Stepping out of the shadows was a little girl, no older than eleven, who curtsied under the protection of her parasol. “Agitha has waited patiently as you ordered, Miss Kitty! How can she be of assistance?”

Lana was almost as disturbed by the girl’s appearance as Ghirahim and Zant, but clearly for different reasons. “A-Agitha? But… The two of you can’t just go out there alone. There are still giant monsters alive!”

The Zora Princess glanced over her shoulder, the second of distraction nearly costing her a fin to the jaws of the Gleeok. “Sorceress, if you wish to accompany them, We will hold down the Oasis.”

“Ruto, are you sure? In this weather, the Zora-”

“Do not doubt the resilience of Our people,” Ruto interjected, jabbing her spear between the plates on one of the dragon’s jugulars. “We know where their limits lie. Place your trust in Us. Now, go! Waste no precious seconds!”

“My, what a shame,” a voice echoed from the dragon. “They’ve become aware of our little plan quicker than expected.”

Zant figured to broadcast his mockery through the Shadow Insect still perched on the dethroned creature. Bleeding heavily from one of its throats, its still-living heads contorted their faces into toothy grins, the Gleeok puffed out its chest and stanced imposingly. The spread of its wings blotted out the sun above the keep, casting it in shadow.

Ghirahim found it a fine idea. “Then let them come find us! We’ll finish them off right away!”

Thus, precious seconds were wasted. By some incomprehensible measure of lollygagging, Midna stuck around while Lana and Agitha made for the desert. The pair of girls slipped past the Dodongo only thanks to Midna’s uncouth taunts, who sent wolves yipping and nipping at its front legs. A little of Zant’s own hatred for the Twilight Princess must have leaked into it, then, because the beast took the bait hook, line, and sinker. So focused it was on the hounds and the woman cheering them on behind them, that it failed to notice its remaining surroundings. Its maw opened wide, readying a blazing inferno, and aimed straight for its annoyance.

Only for said target to dodge out of the way at the very last second, dragging the Zora Princess out of the trajectory along with her. Instead, the hellfire launched across, square into the chest of the already wounded Gleeok and melting everything in its way. A weaving path of coarse glass glittered in the sand, tying the two monsters by a thread of aggression. Their dragon could not resist retaliation and lunged for its treacherous comrade.

Thus, in the Oasis, two of the beasts were tearing each other down. In the sand wastes, one last beast made itself useful. The King Helmaroc, contrary to its name, was an obedient creature, and soared as high or hovered as low as they needed it to. Through its eyes, they saw Midna had joined the pair a little after her charade of chaos.

From this vantage point, Ghirahim and Zant quietly observed their desert trek. At least, until Zant clicked his tongue, seeming annoyed. “I see now why they brought the girl. I should have expected this.”

“Somehow, even when we share the same thoughts, you manage to puzzle me. Get to the point.”

“Look closely. They have a Goddess Butterfly. It will lead them straight to us, and the labyrinth will not keep them.”

Once again, silence fell between them. Less time wasted in the labyrinth meant fewer opportunities to whittle down their strength. With this many enemy commanders, such a head start was crucial.

Even so, the thought of their plan failing ever so slightly, filled Ghirahim with a strange sense of excitement. “An unfortunate twist, but… Frankly, I was getting bored. I’m itching for a fight.”

Then, as if Zant had taken note of his excitement, he felt the warmth of a smile inside his mind. “Ghirahim-ili… When they arrive here, let us fight our hardest.”

Of course, the Helmaroc understood nothing at all of such banter. It was far more focused on the triad of two-footed creatures zipping through the sand sea. To a bird, this entourage of warriors must have looked awfully like a line of ants.

It dove down for them, talons outstretched, as if they were.

The first to react was not the Sorceress, nor was it Midna. Instead, the young girl turned a pouting face to the sky and popped the cork off a glass jar.

In an instant, a massive, emerald beetle appeared from thin air and swung its horn full-force into the Helmaroc’s gullet. Their eyes in the sky shrieked. An explosion of feathers obscured their vision as the panicked bird flailed its wings, knocked entirely off balance by the throttling of this massive bug. Zant’s quiet marvel for the adversary’s familiar was drowned out entirely by Ghirahim’s rage. How preposterous! This massive bird of prey, knocked out of the sky by a mere insect!? He took the reins immediately.

The beetle now dismissed, the Helmaroc King chased after the girls on foot, pouncing at them with its claws and jabbing with its beak. But just as it started to get the drop on the group, the Temple complex was in sight, and the doorway they slipped through would never fit their bird.

When the Helmaroc was left behind them, squawking and pacing indignantly at the gate, the trio chased the little glowing insect through the Temple’s ever-twisting halls. Following this journey proved to be a pain. Zant had only set up Shadow Insects in so many corridors, and tracking their trajectory was a dizzying flurry of different angles and crowding soldiers. Yet, Zant managed to follow them in glimpses. Hyrulean and Demon soldiers alike had swarmed the place, fighting pointless battles in corridors leading nowhere. Undead gaolers were already scavenging the heaps of dead and injured, either locking those still breathing in chains, or ripping the bones from the freshly deceased to replenish their own limbs. Thus, the pair of women led a child over this carpet of corpses. The girl’s fighting ability mattered very little here – they were under the protection of Midna and her wolves, but even then, little ‘Agitha’, as they’d called her, looked too stunned to do anything but keep running.

Along the way, found tearing the talons of a Dinolfos to replenish his throwing needles, was the Sheikah warrior. He had forfeited his turban to use it as a makeshift bandage for the wound in his side. The group swiftly urged him along. Striking down whatever station guards stood in their way, they reached the deeper bowels of the temple, where lines of defense grew more and more scarce.

The three eldest of the company grew more skeptical with each step. Midna leaned closer to Agitha, whispering something the Shadow Insect could not perceive.

“The Goddess Butterfly is never wrong, Miss Kitty,” the young girl assured. She seemed to have full confidence in the butterfly’s sense of direction, and faltered not even a second in chasing after it. And that confidence was well within her right, for Ghirahim recognized these corridors. They would reach their location in no time flat.

Soon, the ground beneath the group’s feet turned sandier and sandier, until the stone tiles were completely covered. They reached a dark chamber, lit only through the cracks of ventilation slits above the massive stone door across them. The butterfly fluttered across without a care, landing on the dusty surface of the door, and fanned its wings in rest. Agitha was about to tromp right after it, but the Sheikah stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. He pushed her back, right into Lana’s protective embrace.

Painfully slow, annoyingly cautious, the Sheikah inched into the clearing of the room step by step. He could check for traps, he could listen for mechanisms and dowse for curses or enchantments, but he would find none. Instead, something found him.

A stinger, tall enough to almost scrape past the ceiling, shot out from the sand, and jabbed at the intruder. Its menacing needle missed only by the grace of the commander’s reflexes, pushing the tail out of its trajectory with a talon dagger, but failing to crack carapace. Shaking itself out of the sand, the final bastion had revealed itself. The Moldarach, a massive scorpion of centuries old, screeched and chittered a word of warning. Its pincers snipped menacingly, tendons tight and fierce. Yet, under the threat of its lightning-fast stinger, the little girl was least afraid of them all.

Agitha looked up at the Moldarach in awe and rummaged in her basket, not taking her eyes off the creature once. “Ohh, I’d hate to hurt such a beautiful bug… I’m sorry, li’l one! But I don’t have a big enough bottle to keep you in!”

From it she retrieved an armful of glass jars, brandishing them as if they were explosives. Her entourage backed away hastily, clearly knowing far more about the contents of those jars than the Moldarach could. She tossed the jars with a sweep, racking them on the scorpion’s hard carapace at first impact. Out swarmed dozens of glowing, spectral butterflies, that headed straight for the first sign of soft flesh they could find: the Moldarach’s eyeball. The beast recoiled, pawing at its face in an attempt to shake the pests off, but it was fruitless. It could now only depend on the eyeballs hidden within its pincers, but in doing so, it revealed the soft tendons holding its claws together. Midna and the Sheikah exchanged a look, seemingly sharing an idea.

Getting up close to this creature proved to be a challenge. Lunging in to take out its claws also meant being subjected to the monster’s lightning-fast reflexes, and Midna found herself trapped in its clutches soon enough. It squeezed, digging the teeth of its claws into her flesh dangerously. They hardly even needed the Shadow Insect for this – they could hear her cries of pain through the door. A little more and it might have killed her, had the Sheikah commander not severed the tender meat in its other claw. Its grip on the imp loosened in its distress and she managed to slip away, evading its gaze long enough for it to lose sight of her. The clash of claw, stinger, and blade continued, though the Moldarach grew more fatigued by the minute. Butterflies continued to eat at its face and attached themselves to whatever nerve opening they could find. Thus the creature slowed, its jabs and lunges losing their accuracy, until at long last it ceased its attacks altogether. They saw no use in waiting until the monster fully died; their little band of foils took this earliest opportunity to flee and push through the door.

The door slid open, grinding down coarse sand of centuries old as it slotted into the wall, and allowed the quartet of Hyruleans into the Coliseum. In the center they saw Ghirahim, lounging atop the Keep’s crumbling walls and examining his nails.

Midna scowled, her fangs bared. She felt at the wounds on her chest, already scabbed over – so quickly? – and glanced to her side, where the child stood waiting expectantly. “Great work, Agitha. Now get out of here.”

At this command, Agitha looked to the Sheikah man with big, glittering eyes, smiling when he met her gaze with a nod. She curtseyed – if Ghirahim didn’t know any better, he’d think it was at him – and, with a dainty clutch of her frock, hopped down a Twilit portal.

“There you are, Demon!” Midna turned to foul, biting language the moment less-matured company was out of earshot. “Just you, huh? Go on. Cough it up! Where’s Zant? I don’t believe we got rid of him back in the desert. Not one bit!”

Ghirahim laughed, once again donning his gloves. Now more appropriately dressed, he hopped down from his perch and landed with a feathery flourish. Now that he seemed to be alone, and outnumbered at that, he decided he could afford a bit of taunting. He hummed, tapping thoughtfully at his chin with a wildly exaggerated gesture. “Oh, who can say? You make such a poor host out of me. All these questions, yet I’ve no intent to answer them!” Resting his hand on his cheek, he turned to Midna with a grin. With a puff of diamonds, he vanished, then reappeared before Midna, leaning down to glare at her with one pair of big, buggy eyes to another. “Say, I have one of my own. You look different. New haircut?”

Midna bared her teeth in a snarl, the fist at the end of her ponytail balling tightly until its fibers threatened to give. She lunged for him, the massive orange hand open and clawed. When his defending sword caught on the curved metal of her bangle, she leaned in with a grin. “Real jester you are! I take it this was your idea, then? That gaudy-masked imp told me to send you its regards.”

Majora. Ghirahim winced. It was getting a little too quiet on the Arch Demon’s front, he’d thought. But to rear its head again and mess with the Demon King’s enemies… There was no telling of its little plans. He turned his blade with a flick of his wrist, threatening to sever her hair at the shackle, and forced her back. “If I wanted you to be cursed, I’d ask someone more reliable.”

His eye flicked to the ground. Where he stood now, the low angle of the light stretched his shadow to that of the Keep’s walls…

Zant emerged from the shadows in an instant, mere inches behind Midna, and swung at her like wings on a windmill. She shielded herself with the hair-clad hand of her ponytail, only to realize within a split second that the Twilight King’s new blade cut right through it. Ducking quickly out of the way, she spun through the air, launching herself to stand closer to her two companions.

“It is a shame about your plight, Twilight Princess. I would have preferred to fight you in a more dignified form.”

When Midna forfeited a reply to glare him down, he laughed, turning to the altar behind him. “Nostalgic, is it not?” Zant waxed, his arms spread as he spun himself to the center of the coliseum. “The birthplace of our people. And perhaps, where the last of us will meet our end.”

Midna then made the grave mistake of taking his poetics as an opening and launched for him, the hand on her ponytail outstretched. The giant fist clenched around empty air when Zant promptly warped out of her way. Placing himself beside her momentum, he swung his scimitar down like a cleaver.

In an instant, magical wards were shattered. Showered in a foreboding glitter of gold, Midna cried out and smacked to the ground. But before Zant could lift his blade again and cleave her in half properly this time, the Sheikah dashed in to intervene. Only to then, himself, be driven to his knees by the daunting force of the Twilight King’s blade. It was two against one; each time Zant had subdued the one foe, the other would step in to try and take him out through his flanks. But Zant was too quick, his blade too sharp. Screeches rang out when the scimitar coursed past the edges of the Sheikah’s daggers, filling their cutting edges with worrying chips. Then, the first of them shattered to pieces completely.

Amidst it all, Zant cackled maniacally, madness tugging at his sweat-drenched brow with each swing of his sword. “Witness me, Ghirahim! We are unstoppable!”

But Ghirahim had very little time to witness. Lana had chosen him as her opponent and did everything in her power to keep him from uniting forces with his co-lieutenant. Frankly, he was a little amused that the Sheikah had not dared to face him a second time. But moreso, insulted, that the Demon Lord was not deemed a terrible enough foe to require backup to challenge. Tongue lolling from his lips in mockery and Annihilation in hand, he decided to make the Sorceress severely regret underestimating him.

Scratches tore through his robes and the strikes that hadn’t broken through his leather mail had surely bruised him, but Zant didn’t seem discouraged by injury whatsoever. Instead, he pushed through, seeking risk after risk and tearing through everything that opposed him. Soon, that boldness was awarded. Midna held up her hair-clad fist to defend herself, and Zant carved through two of its fingers as if it were made of wet paper.

Zant screeched with delight. “Your weeks of bedrest have atrophied your skills, Princess! While you lay there rotting in your own misery, I have gotten stronger!”

Midna growled, ducking behind the Sheikah to conceal herself from his bloodthirsty glee. Ghirahim, though, could see everything. Portals appeared in the shadows and from it surfaced a trio of wolves, each raising its hackles before bursting past the Sheikah and charging at the Usurper.

“Such cheap tricks will not work a second time,” Zant clicked his tongue.

Then, with a gust of wind, he launched himself backward and well out of range of the two warriors. With a single twirl, he drew a circle in the sand with his feet, and raised his arms to the skies. When he parted his lips to speak, every shadow stilled at once, slithering beneath the feet of each combatant, turning the air thick and heavy.

The air grew heavy, stopping every warrior in their tracks. A pale blue light shone from above, but none dared take their eyes off him to look for its source.

One by one, limbs limp and gangly in their descent, three creatures fell from the sky. Upon hitting the ground, their bodies contorted as they rose, each more bizarrely and stiffly than the next. They were massive, gray things, fitted with stone masks upon their faces and a mass of wet, slithering tentacles pouring from their faces.

Without even having to command them, the monsters galloped on all fours to throw themselves at the hounds. They entangled in a mess of rune and shadow, tumbling through the dust in a bestial scuffle. Midna looked on with horror.

Her companion had different concerns. Distracted by the sounds of magic, she whipped around. “That spell… How does he know that spell!?”

Just as Lana yelped, beset once more by the Demon Lord’s blade, Zant scoffed. “Did I not say I have gotten stronger!?” he taunted, knocking another brittle dagger out the hands of the Sheikah.

“Stronger!? And yet you rely on them?” Midna shouted, hurtling herself past her fellow commander to throw herself at Zant in a raging flurry. Where Zant could not parry her, he settled for shooting her from the air at point-blank with his projectiles. “How dare you utter even a word of affection toward our people, when you force their mutilated bodies to fight for your own gain!”

“Make your dogs stop attacking them, then,” Zant said, thoroughly nonplussed. At last, he forced both combatants off of him with a resounding shock wave, rattling even Ghirahim’s core where it rested in his metal.

When the ringing in his mind subsided, a different, familiar sensation took over Ghirahim. A blinking sound deep within him, imperceptible before, now alerted him to the presence of his kin. Fi – and by extension, most likely the green-clad knight tagging along – was fast approaching. “Oh, thank Our Lord, your cavalry is arriving. I was worried it would get a little too easy.”

Lana fell to the ground as Annihilation jabbed into her ribs. Its point bounced off stronger wards than he’d been met with before, and though Ghirahim didn’t exactly break skin, she clutched her chest with a groan either way. All three of their opponents exchanged a worried look, doubtlessly contemplating how to best gang up on them as they were bound to do.

Just as each of the Demon lieutenants took a step forward, deciding whose head to lop off first, new presences made themselves known. Pointing the glowing Goddess Blade forward in dowsing, Link entered through the stone gate, with Fi soon joining by his side. This second of distraction, a spark of hope for Hyrule, was just enough for the lot of them to scramble back to their feet and cluster into tight formation.

“Everyone, watch out,” Lana shouted, grimoire at the ready. “Only those with the Triforce can wield that magic!”

“He still has it?” Midna asked, eyeing Zant with her fangs bared.

Not expecting that reply, Lana turned to Midna, eyes wide with shock. “Still!?”

“Oh, so you remembered,” Zant chimed, making his way to the clustered group without hesitation. “Our Master is quite generous with his gifts. A small piece of that power is all I need to decimate the lot of you, who now have none at all. You would do better not to underestimate us!”

Midna’s eyes darted between her companions. A heaving, determined sigh tore through her. Then, her enraged expression twisted into a malicious grin. Her arms raised, she placed her hands on either side of her helmet. “Doesn’t matter. I could best you then, and I can do it now!”

The Coliseum was bathed in shadow. Midna drew darkness to her like a cyclone. Where Zant’s shadowy magic was warm and suffocating; a pulsing, all-consuming parasitic disease, hers was an eerie chill. From the pitch-black surrounding her feet, three ancient stone artifacts, the Fused Shadows, surfaced and encased her like a tomb.

When the first spidery legs burst forth from the bottom of the Twilight Princess’ stone-hewn armor, Ghirahim found himself beset by his own opponents. Link, drenched almost completely red with monstrous blood, ran for him, aiming right for his chest. Disappointed, almost, that the boy had learned nothing, he took hold of the blade with his bare hand, flicking it aside just in time to be able to step out the way of Fi’s impending kick. They were teaming up against him again, just as their other, more wounded companions were now piling on Zant. Where worry once would have possessed him, Ghirahim was now buzzing with nothing but thrill. The boy was already exhausted. He would get to tug the cords of his life from him strand by strand, and he hardly had to break a sweat to do so.

With that ever-lasting nuance and his dancing blade demanding his every second, Ghirahim couldn’t spare a glance at his battling compatriot. Not even as tendrilous arms, gnarled and glowing like smoldering branches of wicker, scampered around this battlefield, their incessant thumping shaking the rubble off the walls. Dust and pebbles rained down from above, only to be meticulously carved into halves by his sword. Some time ago, the duo of Link and Fi had bested him.

But back then, he didn’t have this blade. Annihilation soared and carved, striking hard enough to make even the stone-faced Goddess Blade wince as he parried her swinging legs. With this power, enemy numbers didn’t matter – he would win.

A twinge of anxiety simmered in him nonetheless. While he could indeed not spectate the battle behind him directly, he caught impressions from the piece of himself, wielded by his co-lieutenant. A screech of metal, a beast recoiled. Hair-coiled fists he so easily carved through minutes past now felt solid as rock. Midna could not find a way through his defenses, and the ground shook as she struggled away from his offenses. Those that dared to try left a taste of blood upon his blade, however slight. Weapons crashed into each other in such a cacophony he could no longer distinguish the flashes of light in his own battle, from the ones imposed on him by Zant’s hands. To any mortal, such a barrage of violence would render them collapsed in the confusion, but to Ghirahim, it was Paradise.

Yet, this could not last long. Caught in bladelock with Link, he swiftly kicked the boy off of him when an alarming sensation overtook him. The part of him resting within the Demon Scimitar overloaded him with visions. With the uttering of strange words, Lana had bypassed Zant’s wards. Metal groaned eerily, then exploded, shrapnel shooting into the sand. An inky-black fist clutched around an equally black steel javelin, then threw it whistling through the air. But Midna didn’t aim for the now staggered Zant – she aimed at the ceiling. Chunks of stone and wispy sands rained down, blinding all who waited below, until the dust cleared. Zant noticed it before anyone else, and burst out into a shriek when sunlight flooded every corner of the Coliseum.

They hounded him like a pack of starved wolves. More blinded than ever and his skin blistering, Zant couldn’t defend himself from the Sheikah’s assault, nor Link’s, nor Lana’s, all the while Fi kept Ghirahim across the arena. His guard dog, forced away from its flock. With every second in the sun, Zant was weakening. He simply couldn’t keep up, not while blinded and in agony like this. With desperate flings of their sword, he only barely managed to deflect the blows that would have otherwise sliced his head off. Blood stained the sand around him as strike after strike tore through his armor like it was no more than air. When his weapon finally fell from his hands, Midna took it as a sign, and grappled his battered body with a tendril for each limb. When he lifted his face, his stare was aimless, but full of malice.

“Sheik, now!”

Lana commanded, desperately eyeing the still-bleeding Sheikah commander. He complied with a nod too serene for such a boyish warrior. A glow gathered in his palms, abstract and foggy at first, until he grasped it, held it before him, and drew the string. Fuzzy sparkles shed from the light-made object, revealing its true form.

A bow. With a single blink, the Sheikah’s eyes turned from red to crystal blue.

It was the Princess! Ghirahim’s body froze over. In Zant’s current state, that single arrow would be fatal. What could stun their Master was deadly poison to his underlings.

An inhibition, once hard-coded into every fiber of his being, now shattered. Annihilation felt feather-light in his hands but crashed into Fi with the force of a stampede. A single facet chipped off her core, and would still be floating in the air when Ghirahim bolted to the center of the arena. Step, after step, after step, pummeling the sand into craters. The arrow nocked and braced, was then released. Ghirahim disappeared. A whistle, fletchings quivered in the air. Ghirahim burst into view in the middle of the Coliseum, arms outstretched. He grabbed Zant by the shoulders, and with a chime of diamond magic, they were gone.

The arrow pierced into the Keep wall. A piece of Fi’s core fell into the sand. Out of the five warriors present, none of them had been able to prevent their escape.

He needed shadows. There was only one place that would suffice. Around them, the world turned monochrome. With the Twili tucked carefully in his arms, he set his sights far beyond the labyrinth and took them both to the Palace. Nowhere would be darker than the quarters of the Twilight King.

Sheets hastily ripped off, bedding drenched in darkening blood. Zant lay stiff and unmoving, gasping like a fish, struggling none as Ghirahim ripped his clothes from him. A decorative fastening pin flew and clattered across the tile floor. Zant’s portrait above them looked on with a smirk.

Hyrulean weapons had gone right through his armor. He was a mess of red-stained wool and torn leather, gaping wounds pulsing fresh blood. Far too much of it. Ghirahim ripped the cork off a potion bottle with his teeth and shoved the glass opening to Zant’s lips, who coughed and sputtered as the thick liquid gushed down his gullet.

“Just this- Just this, and you will be alright. Stay with me,” Ghirahim hissed, keeping a close eye on the Twili’s battered body. Wounds closed up, but too many remained raw and open. Cursing under his breath, he snipped his fingers, keeping one hand – glove bunched underneath his grip – pressed heavily to a gash on Zant’s thigh. And what a useless measure it was. This wound was just one of many that needed his attention. The sheets he tore from the cupboards, drenched in water from his nightstand washing table and spilled bourbon, soon lost their white cleanliness to deep, deathly red.

Needle and thread summoned themselves with a snip of his fingers. Sewing implements, but Ghirahim had little else in his reach. Zant cried and whined when the makeshift gauze was now pressurized by a knee, Ghirahim’s hands too occupied with the needle. Bent into a rounded angle around his finger, sterilized with a flame. He thread the needle and set to pushing it through flesh.

“I’d say your crying brings me misery, Zant,” he grinned, an expression creeping on him purely from his nerves, “but do not stop. At least then I know you are alive and conscious.”

Pierce, tug, tie, and snip. Rhythmic and perfect, Ghirahim mended wound by wound. He knew how to carve flesh, so too, did he know how to sew it back together. Each wound bled with different severity. His midriff, his legs, his chest. There, he’d been carved down to the rib, surrounded by irritated flesh and glowing veins. The body tormented by these injuries cried and cried, but had not the strength to even writhe. As focused as Ghirahim was, his eyes still strayed and flicked to his right. Zant’s naturally pallid complexion helped him absolutely none in telling how much time he had. But his fading patterns did. Their teal glow almost ceased. Another potion. This time, he poured some of it directly on the still-opened wounds, hoping their sizzle would burn the veins shut. Zant was awake enough to swallow the rest of it, but not to protest against the drops that snuck into his windpipe. Only when Ghirahim had turned him on his side to tend to his back did the healing liquid’s magical effect rejuvenate him enough to rasp and hack it up. He shrieked immediately when the sudden jolt caused Ghirahim’s needle to stick him.

“Keep whining, please,” Ghirahim muttered. “If you have enough energy to act childish, then…”

Zant hissed, growled, snarled, every tug of the thread now an affront. His toes curled and his fingers dug in the sheets, weakly, but characteristically, either way. When every wound he could see was stitched, Ghirahim took the cords of lacing out the loops at his back and rid Zant of his final layer. Red, white, black; teal slowly returning, if it wasn’t simply the phosphorescent glow of the room around them. In a few days, this body would be a rainbow of bruises. Should he last that long.

Only then did Ghirahim allow himself to draw breath. Not as a necessity, but as a soothing tic, to come back to his senses and for a second empathize with a mortal man. He slumped onto the bed, his head resting on Zant’s chest. It was in this rest that the full gravity of the past minutes reached him. Rather, it jumped full force onto his back, its weight forcing him into immobility and sinking him into the bed. Ghirahim couldn’t recall when he started weeping; he’d been on auto-pilot from the second Zelda nocked her arrow.

Zant’s heartbeat thumped against his forehead, hard and heavy as it would whenever the Twili had a lump in his throat. Its pace quickened when Ghirahim spoke. “I almost lost you.”

Zant’s hand raised, then dropped onto Ghirahim’s back. Cold fingers stroked him softly. “You may still, Oibedelrik, Yima Daegge Esweteli,” Zant whispered hoarsely, forcing his words out with the nigh manual contracting of his rib muscles. “Odowuni kem idzidiy Iya, ee Iya-” he murmured, his eyes rolling to the backs of their sockets. His eyelids fluttered shut, then shot back open, revealing darting pupils as if he’d just remembered where he was. “I am not yet bandaged,” wheeze, “and when my blood returns to me,” wheeze, “I may yet fall to fever.”

“Shut up.” Banish the thought. As if he would be so negligent! A doctor, he was not, but as much as he could bring death, he could also spot its tellings, and he did not intend on letting it rear its head again. Ghirahim closed his eyes, listening intently to his pulse – as if it would slip away if he turned away for even a second – then raised himself to finish the job.

He had to go back to the battlefield. There was no telling whether all their beasts had been defeated or not, or whether they even had a chance to take down Hyrule’s commanders. He would return, alone if he had to, Ghirahim decided as he stroked a warm, wet cloth along the dried blood on Zant’s torso where his stitches did not taint him. But he’d only leave when Zant was stable.

In his spiraling, Zant’s hand had found its way to his hair, running its fingers through the strands. For once, Ghirahim cared not how bloodstained he would get. Zant’s weak voice muttered, slipping between heaving breaths. “All of them, at once… I foresaw many, but every caste and clade…”

“I know, I know,” Ghirahim responded, wringing the blood from the reddened cloth. “But the more we whittle down today, the less prepared they’ll be when Master strikes.”

“There is no ‘we’, Ghirahim. I cannot fight like this. I was bested once again.”

“I will take care of it,” Ghirahim muttered, a frown on his brow. He thought it ripe time to change the subject. “The Princess, disguising herself as a Sheikah... I’d almost say she exceeded us in trickery today.”

Zant sighed, his arm quickly becoming deadweight in his hand as Ghirahim took it for bandaging. That strange gray on his skin had spread almost no further. “Posing as a substitute for General Impa, I reckon.”

Ghirahim left Zant to his musings and grew oddly giddy with his own. The thrill of battle and clawing his companion away from death’s door scalded him from within, filling him with an inexplicable well of energy.

“But if the Princess is here… That’s good news, wouldn’t you say?” Ghirahim began to prattle, a manic tug at his brow as he pinned the last few bandages in place. “Fewer commanders are guarding the palace than we expected. If we hurry and inform Master Ganondorf, surely–”

“Ghirahim–”

But Ghirahim did not hear him. Whatever he said then, he could not even recall himself, so thoroughly he was caught up in a whirlwind of plans.

“Ghirahim, stop.”

The pair met eyes in silence, one still wearing a bewildered grin, the other lying grim and pale on what was almost his resting place. “There is no point. Your revelation will fall on deaf ears. We were never meant to leave this desert.”

Ghirahim’s expression dropped, managing only a slight grin in his confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Master sent us here to die.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ghirahim frowned, fighting off a pit of dread in his gut. This was just his usual delirium, he thought. The same madness shaken into him by fear and injury, like it had Volga.

Zant, however, did not take his struggle kindly. He frowned at him indignantly. “You call me ridiculous? You deceive even yourself. Face it, Ghirahim. We are two against seven of Hyrule’s finest commanders. This was a suicide mission from the start, as I suspected Death Mountain must have been, too.”

“... But-” Ghirahim struggled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Zant was a liar, he knew this. But now? To him? About something like this? Neither possibility, not Zant deceiving him so brazenly, nor being abandoned by his Master, computed in his mind. “We were- What could I have done to displease him to this degree? Why would he want to be rid of me? You speak nonsense!”

“You did nothing, Ghirahim. You are perfect. Your sole crime was associating with me. For me, it was only a matter of time until he did away with me. He is unworthy for the throne, and, one way or the other, I would have stopped him from seizing it.”

Ghirahim froze. Pieces fell on the ground before him but he didn’t dare to watch them assemble. Something hot and furious was starting to thaw the ice of his shock from within. “What?”

“Your surprise tells me he did not even bother to confirm his suspicions before abandoning you.” With a huff and groan, he shifted, trying to prop himself upright on his pillow. The grimace he pulled in his pain remained in his face, molded from rage and hatred. “I detest him, Ghirahim, and finally he has noticed it. He must have known I wished for his death, and that I intended to follow through.”

Ghirahim staggered away from the bed as if pushed. An instant revulsion forbade him from staying anywhere near the wounded man before him, and in his disgust, he willingly followed this instinct. He scowled at him, wide-eyed and vicious, tongue lashing and drenched with venom. “So your title was given to you for good reason. I cannot believe my ears. Immature little boy, you are! Our accursed usurper, unable to keep his grubby claws off any throne when he grows the slightest bit displeased. You ungrateful wretch!”

“Ungrateful? You know not what you speak of,” Zant scowled right back, tears of rage welling up in his eyes and his teeth bared. The Lord of Twilight turned to him unflinchingly, hunched like a pouncing beast as if his drive to convince him had filled him with fresh vigor. “In my time, Ganon was to me what Demise was to you. My God, I adored him,” he waxed, hands covering his face in grief. “I did his bidding. I worshiped him, freed us both from our decrepit prison. Yet, when I gave my life for him, he broke his promise to me. Instead of freeing my spirit to rule by his side, he took everything I ever worked for. And then- then-” Zant paused, hands falling limply into his lap. “When defeated by his little foil, when the strings of his soul dared touch upon mine to beg for my assistance, I denied him.”

Zant’s eyes turned to him again. The first hints of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “You understand, don’t you? It was no hero, no princess, who slayed the Demon King in the age of Twilight. The one to deliver the final blow, was me.”

That very second, a little part of Ghirahim’s world shattered. When he realized the consequences of plotting alongside a man so treacherous, the rest shattered with it. Right under his nose, Zant had made an enemy of his Master, and by extension, of Ghirahim. There were questions he wanted to ask, insults to be hurled. He could only think of one question, that bubbled to the surface of his heart like scum in a boiling pot. “How long have you plotted this?”

Zant lowered his gaze, for as far as the stare of a near-blind man mattered. “From the very start,” he admitted, sighing. “After such a betrayal, to awaken to another manifestation of my tormentor, and have him once again demand my services… He may as well have spat in my face. Though, I admit, for a little while, I buckled. Somewhere, I must have loved him still, drawn to his power and our shared hatred for Hyrule as I was. I wanted to see if I could trust this version of him, who seemed so noble. But after your stories, Ghirahim, how his incarnations cast you aside so carelessly… I made up my mind. Ganondorf does not change.”

“So then all of this was just a lie, part of your plans?” Ghirahim asked, his voice quaking. He didn’t care for Zant’s excuses, not when they pulled every minute he spent by his side into question. Not when they sabotaged everything he’s ever stood for. “I, too, just a little scheme for you?”

Zant gasped, inching closer to the edge of the bed to look at him in pleading. “No, Ghirahim. How could I have foreseen this? I came to you seeking an ally, and I found a new reason for my heart to beat. For every lie I have told you, I have spoken to you as many truths tenfold, in how I’ve grown to love you. It is only because of you I have made it this far. You’ve given me peace, soothed my soul when I threatened to bubble over. And, more importantly, Ghirahim-ili, you have made a warrior of me.” Zant urged, attempting a smile, his hand outstretched. “Which is why I ask you to join me.”

Ghirahim was too stupefied by his words to answer. So Zant took advantage of his silence to continue. “You know now of my hatred, my every motivation. Yet you stay loyal to him, even if you must know he will not spare you. He has not spared you, for he resigned someone so loyal to him to the same fate he did a traitor.”

His arms snaked around himself, his nails digging in the false skin of his arms. Ghirahim took another step back; the Twili’s presence alone made it feel like insects were crawling inside his steel, tunneling through him like termites. His mind hit a roadblock, reached a final terminal, and the logic Zant asked from him sat horizons away where his tracks would not reach. “... Then if Master wills it-”

Zant shot up in his seat, snapping at him before he could finish his sentence. “Do you know how it hurts me, Ghirahim? To see someone so precious to me tear himself apart over someone who would shatter him on a mere whim? After all you do for him, he denies you at every turn and punishes you for the barest things. It has taken every shred of composure I had not to tear into him when he threatened to hurt you. If I had not hated him before, the way he treats you would have convinced me to.”

He’d avoided his eyes up until then, but Ghirahim now shot his gaze straight at him. They exchanged a scowl, each gnashing teeth, one from hatred, one from love. Desperation seized him and sharpened his edge.

Ghirahim made for him and pushed him back into the pillows. “You know not what you ask of me. To think I would care what hurts you now, after what you’ve told me! You speak of whims? You’re asking me to abandon my every purpose for something as small as your mortal love. My purpose is all I have. It is me. To ask me to betray Demise is to doom myself to scrap, Zant.”

Zant had refused a squeak when he was shoved. With tears in his eyes, he simply laid there, glaring at him. He cradled a freshly ruptured suture through its bandages. “You are not yourself when you speak of him! Listen to the words you spew! Scrap!? So highly you think of yourself, you carry yourself as the priceless artifact that you are, yet when around him, you are degraded to the ranks of mere tools.”

Ghirahim gripped his hair in wild frustration. “Because- I am precisely as perfect as I am because of Him! Without Him, without a hand to wield me, I am nothing.”

Zant stared at him, perturbed, before groaning in his agony and sinking into his pillows. For a moment, he wilted again, speaking bitterly as he resigned himself. “Then you have been, and will be nothing, for a very long time.”

In an instant, his vision went red. “How dare you!”

Ghirahim pounced him, hands outstretched and clawed, landing square upon his chest, ignoring the grit of Zant’s teeth, his squirms, his pained squeaks. All he paid attention to were his wide-open eyes and the fear he could milk out of them. He gripped him fiercely by the shoulders and shook him as he spoke. “It’s all your fault, isn’t it!? Why he would not wield me! Why I could not gain his trust!? All because of your greed, he now sees me as a conspirator to your rotten betrayal.”

His hands found Zant’s throat and squeezed. Ghirahim leaned in close, fangs bared. Zant did nothing. Just the sight of those glowing pupils fueled the fire of his rage. “A thousand miserable years I’ve waited, working hard to see him again. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? Your puny, mortal mind could never comprehend the lengths I’ve gone to!”

He reared back his fist, and still Zant did nothing. “Now I can wait thousands more, and he will never wield me again!!”

Ghirahim panted amidst his accusations, tears streaming down his cheeks the second they beaded in the corners of his eyes. He scanned the Usurper’s eyes for substance, for anything that wasn’t pity. When he didn’t find it, he snapped. Before he knew it, his fist connected to Zant’s cheekbone. Crack. “How could you do this to me? We were going to win!” Crack. “I would finally have been happy, after I’ve been alone for so long, and you RUINED everything for me!”

Crack. Snap. A whimper. There wasn’t an inch of Zant’s face untainted by blood and bruising, and still, that horrible fool did nothing to stop him. “I should kill you!”

He sent Zant’s head twisting left to right, right to left, with each punch. His heart had broken twice over today. First, shattered to pieces from all hope of becoming his Master’s blade. Then, its shards were trampled by the very man below his relentless assault, who had punished him so severely for daring to open himself to that mortal love. What a complete and utter fool he’d been. He should have expected to be punished like this, for entering a world he didn’t belong in.

And still, past the swollen, blood-smeared skin, Zant did not take his gut-wrenching eyes off of him, trying to fool him into loving him again to save his own measly life. It was an outrage! A betrayal this massive, and Zant had the gall to try and garner his sympathy. To assert they were alike in fate. There was only one who had lost everything, whose prospects were null, and who was only living on borrowed time. Only one banished from his home, his every goal snatched from before his nose. Only one whom his Master truly abandoned, to never be forgiven.

… No.

There were two.

Before his fist could crash into him once more, a convulsion tore through Zant’s body below him. Within the blink of an eye, he changed. His skin lost all color, turning a deep, shadowy black, while his patterns dimmed, and his hair bristled into a brittle white, like spider’s silk.

Zant was dying.

The ties to the Demon Scimitar pulsed in his chest. There lied that rebellious little dagger, the one that thumped against the walls of his core whenever this wretch would look at him in his strange ways. Did it not feel good? Its little voice whispered in his mind. Even if it was such a small piece of you in his hands, did it not fill you with joy? Master will not wield us, and this world has so few who are worthy of us. Is it not better to rest part of you in capable hands, than in nothing at all?

Ghirahim clutched his head, begging for silence. He could not handle even a second of doubt, of weakness. If this man were simply dead, everything would be so much easier. If he were the one to kill him, Master would forgive him. But are you ready for him to die?

He was. He would have to be. He wanted to be. It would be so simple. He just wanted to be wielded. To be held in someone’s hands, to be part of something greater.

He wanted to be loved.

Please, help him.

Oh, God. What has he done?

He detested the despairing little squeak behind him as he walked away from that deathbed. Even more, he reviled himself, for glancing behind and allowing the teeth of guilt to sink into him at the pitiful sight of that beaten creature.

What he hated most was how he’d been convinced to return after his brief departure, healing elixirs in hand, and seeing tear-drenched eyes looking at him with a bloody smile.

Don't look at me like that, you horrible man. You’ve ruined my life.

But that pitiful part of him felt relieved how Zant could smile at the sight of him still. How Zant was glad to see him, even after attempting to take his life mere seconds earlier. A withered hand shook as it reached out for him. Ghirahim took it and squeezed.

The room was silent as Ghirahim nursed Zant back to health. Far, far into the desert outside, chaos was unfolding. The few remaining giant monsters were now surely being slaughtered, and their troops would have to cherish idle hopes of succeeding in their reign of terror, in their commanders’ absence. Deep, deep below the ground, Gerudo and Bulblin who could not fight were taking shelter in the dungeons, waiting for the pounding footfall to fade away and leave them in peace.

Neither side knew they were here. They would sit in this room, disturbed only by the glare of Zant’s portrait, judging this pathetic display. Zant strained to breathe. His complexion had inverted almost to its original colors, while his hair returned to its original, rosewood shade. However, some strands retained that ghostly white from before. Ghirahim hoped it would be permanent. He hoped he would remember this accursed day every time he was confronted with his reflection.

Never before had shadows bothered him. Now, in the deep darkness of Zant’s bedroom, it suffocated him. Neither of them said a word. There was nothing to say, but in this stifling pit of nothingness, he began to crave the slightest noise. He wished he could go back to a time when this dark was comforting, to be filled with nothing but idle chatter and the grappling of their bodies. Like this, through noise, through touch, Ghirahim could only think to hurt him.

So, Ghirahim seized the bridge of Zant’s nose and cracked what cartilage he hadn't shattered back into place. He took hold of his jaw, counted to three in his head, and popped the crooked thing back in its sockets. If Zant had cried out in pain at any of this, he wouldn't have noticed. The ringing in his ears was just too loud. His handiwork now finished, he trusted the potions to do the rest.

Then, he waited. For anything, really. For the battle raging outside to dissipate. For their forces to come bursting through the castle gate cheering with glee, or for the enemy to come raid it of every worth and woman inside, and drag the two of them to the gallows, while they were at it. But mostly, he waited for any change in Zant.

Look at him. He cannot even raise a finger to hurt you. You could end this right here, right now, Ghirahim thought to himself. Yet he sat and did nothing. When his eyes met the ones that stared glossily back up at him, filled with agonized gratitude, that thought snuffed out, and its wicker would burn no longer.

Ghirahim swallowed his apprehension, inhaled sharply, and sighed. “What will you have me do?”

Zant opened his mouth to speak, but the shards of crumbled teeth fell into his throat as he uttered his first syllable. Ghirahim sat and watched as he choked and spat them out on his pillow.

“We are to wait out the right time to strike back for the throne, but today, we cannot. So we will have to fool them with one more ruse. Return to the battlefield, Ghirahim,” he wheezed, swallowing the blood from a dry throat. “Strike at whoever is closest. Be vengeful. Be fierce. You must fight like you never have before.

Zant breathed deeply. With each chug of air, another wound closed up, though their scars and deep black bruises remained. “You are to disappear with me. They must be convinced that I succumbed to my wounds.”

You should have.

“And, to their knowledge, you will take to the grave with me. Come closer,” he said. His hand searched beside his face on the pillow and retrieved a shard of tooth, long and pointy, almost complete. With a tiny crack, he then reached over, and fastened it to Ghirahim’s earring, to an empty link remaining there. “A memento, to convince them of my death.”

Ghirahim rose again in silence. A little piece of bone so small dangled from his ear, but the weight of its burden could tip him over. Zant continued to speak as if this was the simplest matter in the world. “Take our blade. My power rests within it, still, and it is all the help I can afford you.”

Listlessly, mechanically, Ghirahim rose from his seat before Zant even finished his sentence. The sword lay by his bedside, hastily thrown to the side along with Zant’s armor. He picked up that shard of himself and apologetically wiped it of its grime.

A roar reverberated from outside, echoing past the sands and through the castle walls. Zant called to his attention again with his glowing eyes aimed straight at him. “The Gerudo are innocent in all this. The least we can do is scare this vermin away from their homes. I trust you to have tricks up your sleeve, Yima Mionaida.”

Despite it all, his little nicknames stirred in his chest. Ghirahim clenched his fist harder around the grip of the Demon Scimitar, as if to smother it. His Diamond. The miserable, manipulative cretin that he was. And Ghirahim was doing all his bidding.

Just before he could turn his back to leave, he was halted one last time. “Ghirahim,” Zant started, but he knew saying his next words would only draw his ire. His face said every letter anyway. I’m sorry.

Ghirahim ran. Within a flash, he was back in the sweltering heat of the desert, bolting from the Temple Complex and kicking up sand trails in his escape. He tore past keeps, the slain corpses of their monsters, and field battles still unfolding between forces too stubborn to believe the war was won. Those who dared bar his way were dealt with swiftly, their heads rolling. He left the perfect trail like this. A pristine white lightning bolt with a sword sharper than the cruel edge of time, such a description could only fit one man. The eyes he sought snared onto him. Enemy commanders, skeptically scouring the desert and leaving not a stone unturned for a trace of Ganondorf’s finest. Now, they found him and were giving chase just like he wanted.

Blood and plate mail carpeted the vast sands racing below his feet. Rock outcroppings raced past; trampled patches of desert scrub – Safflina and a type of sagebrush. The smell of drying vegetation filling the air was the same as when Zant held sprigs from them up to his nose for inspection – and, finally, the gate to the bazaar, zipped past him. Almost, he, the false deserter, had gotten away with leading the lot of them out into the wider desert, until a familiar rumble ripped him from his concentration.

Ghirahim swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding a boulder that barreled past him. It skidded to a halt before him and unfolded, though he didn’t have to see that transformation to know what nuisance stood before him. There was, once again, Darunia, Chief of the Goron Tribes.

“Not one step further, Pebble.”

The sight of him was enough to startle even Ghirahim, though he was too jaded to find any delight in it. Darunia’s torso was heavily scarred, and his right arm, gone. In its place was a jumble of machinery, with pistons and gears whirring noisily to heave the weight of a massive hammer at the very end of the prosthetic limb. Beyond a solid steel helmet, the Goron Chief wore a wide grin, though one less eye stared back at Ghirahim than last time.

“Thought to slip by us, did you? All on your lonesome?” said the Goron Chief, brandishing his weapon. “I wasn’t looking forward to facing off against that nutcase anyhow, but a lil’ something tells me my siblings took care of that for me…”

Ghirahim looked back. The peaks of Gerudo Palace were no longer in sight. For whatever chaos he would unleash… This would have to be far enough. All he had to do was stall for time until the rest of the Hyrulean commanders caught up to him.

“You truly wish to keep me? Very well,” Ghirahim replied, holding the Demon Scimitar up to the sun. Sand powdered his bodysuit from top to bottom, crusting gray and gold in every crease. But their blade remained immaculate. Its silvery edge still shone into his pupils, like teeth flashing in a hungry grin. “Make this worth my while.”

Darunia’s hammer pounded into the ground fiercer than ever. The springs on his arm, hefty as it might have been, gave him untold speed and force with each swing. Ghirahim couldn’t stop the speed of that hammer anymore – where there were once bulging veins now sat machinery, forged from a steel he dared not chip the Demon Scimitar on. So, he had to settle for the rest of this massive creature. They clashed like this for what felt like hours, neither showing any signs of tiring. The resounding clanks of the warhammer striking upon resonant steel had surely deafened them both, and everyone daring to come near them. It was thoroughly inelegant. Ghirahim hissed, roared, lunged at him with wild swings wielding a sword leagues to big for his frame. Such wild desperation hampered him as much as it worked in his favor. A grief-stricken foe was always quickly underestimated. Even with his new accessories, Darunia would not leave this battlefield unscathed. A blade made from the heart would know how to find another without effort. As he riddled the Goron’s bulging ribcage with scars, a foreboding chime in his core once again alerted him of his pursuers. They were getting closer. He could feel it.

Then, for a second, he could feel nothing at all. A split second of distraction cost him dearly, when it allowed for Darunia to come within arm’s reach and drive his hammer straight into him. The flat of the giant hammer drove into the side of his head with such a deafening impact he thought his head might snap clean off. Instead, he remained intact, launched across the bazaar to tumble through ruined market stands and trampled carpets. When he came to a halt, all he could see was dust, the approaching Darunia not more than a shadow in the clouds of sand. Ghirahim stood up, a hand to his wounded cheek to find it just that – wounded. Through his false skin, he could feel chips taken out his face, like little razor-sharp dimples on his cheek.

The rest of them were approaching now, right outside the gate. Ghirahim found the least he could do was give them a proper welcome spectacle. Concealed by the dust, he launched forward at the shape of the Goron Chief in ambush. Its wicked, curved tip aimed at the jugular. Darunia staggered away, but every twitch of movement just made the scimitar slice him deeper. With just one more stumbling step, Ghirahim got the vengeance he wanted. An arc of blood gushed from the Goron’s collarbone, splattering to accessorize Ghirahim’s wounded face. Clutching his bleeding wound, Darunia thrust his metal arm forward to push the Demon away from him and hobbled back into the dust.

Ghirahim gave chase until he remembered his task. Wind whipped through his hair and took the sands with it, revealing at last his surroundings to him. Standing in an arc around him, barricading his way to the desert, stood the mightiest of Hyrule’s army. There was nowhere left to lure them, this would have to be his final stand. He could not fight all of them at once – not Link, not Fi, not Zelda, not all of the other pompous royals gathered here. But he could make them see. The blade, the tooth dangling from his ear. Now, he would make them witness his sorrow. To their knowledge, it would be grief for a fallen friend, but in the depths of his core, he felt nothing more than disgust for obeying the word of another.

Tears gushed from his eyes. He was doing this – he was betraying his Master. Ghirahim (was he even worthy of a name?) contorted his face into a maddened grin. The carnage, the destruction, the pure, unfiltered chaos this final gambit would unleash might have pleased Him, but it would not be in His name. It was moot! He should have accepted his fate in the Arbiter’s grounds. He should have stood patiently waiting in executioner’s row, to be pierced by the very same arrow that he saved his conspirator from. If his Master willed him to shatter, to turn to dust and forgotten in the eyes of history, then that was to be his fate, and nothing more.

Instead, the Sword Spirit glared down the approaching Hyrulean commanders with the same manic grimace, and readied his spell.

“Šamu dullu-ya, Majora! Bēlu ellāmu-adāni, Lā Naparkû Umṣu! Anāku bussuru kâti bursaggû, naqrabu napištu. Banû annûm āra-šu ašītu, baqāru tidintuka!”

He danced and danced through the sand, flickering himself atop every surface he could find to evade the grasp of his assailants. Midna and Lana were the first to stiffen, to call for someone to put a stop to this, but none of the arrows sailing past could hit their mark. Every word drained more and more energy from him. This was a true summoning, a bargain driven. Within the first uttering of the Arch Demon’s name, he could feel it watching, stalking around him like a wolf with gnashing teeth, licking its lips until it found his offer sufficient.

He would have thought it an infernal illusion, ripping him to some other plane of existence, did he not notice the straw hat atop the mask and the blue sky expanding behind it. The Skull Kid floated before him upside down, looking him dead in the eye. With a single tap on the nose, it shook him out of his paralysis.

“Took you long enough. Don’t let me get bored again, Ghirahim-ili!”

It mocked, it shrieked with laughter, and it rattled its mask. Arms to the sky, it hovered squeaking and groaning with strain, and then with the same great effort, swung its clawed little hands down as if pulling a massive lever. Then, it waved cheerfully and disappeared within a blink.

Silence. Nothing at all. The commanders still around him stood waiting with caution, alarmed by the Arch Demon’s arrival, and just-as-sudden departure. Only when a rumble shook the pebbles on the bazaar grounds did they think to look up.

Not Ghirahim. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the skies for even a second. He saw it the second Majora disappeared. A small dot, a mere speck in the endless blue of the cloudless heavens, approaching rapidly. The Moon was falling down on Gerudo Desert.

Cries of panic, of retreat. Chimes of magical transportation rang around him. Hyrule’s commanders were fleeing en masse. Perhaps he would not strike his intended targets, but he didn’t care. This battle would find no spoils or prisoners. Nothing but a wasteland would be left, leaving not the slightest bone for the vultures to scavenge. Swirling clouds of condensation shrouded the Moon in its rapid descent. It was hypnotic, almost, Ghirahim thought, standing in the center of its massive shadow. He considered then what would happen if he simply stayed here. The clouds dissipated as the Moon crossed their threshold. By all means, he was insane for dawdling here, and yet he took the time.

Head cocked curiously, but eyes blank, he peered up at a giant visage that scowled back. Like it challenged him, almost. He was forged to survive any impact, surpassed only by weaponry that rivaled him in magic ability. But he’d never been hit by a meteor before. Would it shatter him? Did that matter? Oh, how tempting the thought was. He was a dead man walking either way. Where would he go if he survived such an impact? Master would break him.

Ah, his trump card was getting a little close for comfort now. He could feel the heat of its approach on his skin, its tremors shaking the ground beneath his feet. There were mere seconds between this moment and the inevitable crater the Moon would leave. He turned his stare away from the skies and turned to look around. Not a soul remained in the bazaar, but the soldiers that fled – be they friend or foe – certainly weren’t far enough to escape the blast radius. They’d be dust soon, blend in with the sands.

Playtime was over. He’d fantasized plenty. Zant was waiting for him; whether he’d find him succumbed to his wounds, or in a prime state to kill him himself, he’d have to see when he got there. Whether he’d have the guts to see him to his end…

Now, to get out of here.

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ladykailitha · 11 months ago

Text

Royal Pain: Epilogue

I know I said I would hold off posting until the Christmas story was completed, but this one literally had one chapter left and it felt rude to make you wait for it.

Happy boys!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24|Pt 25|Pt 26|Pt 27|Pt 28

****

Six months later:

They were having a holiday plus everyone celebrating something awesome party.

It was held at Steve and Eddie’s new house. Steve had decided to move out the apartment and buy a house now that the business was so successful. And on their six month anniversary, Steve asked Eddie to move in with him.

It had two studios. A music one for Eddie, where he could write songs and the boys could practice so that they no longer had to rent out that garage.

The second one was for Steve to get his art degree. He was still running Royal Pain, but wanted to learn new styles and techniques that would help him become a better tattoo artist.

Chrissy, Robin, and Vickie had also moved into together, but into a bigger apartment that had three rooms so that they could all have their own space, but still remain a committed polycule.

Argyle and Chrissy were both full time tattoo artists, leaving time for Steve to go back to school.

Robin was going back to school, too. To become a translator.

Eden and Argyle were still a couple and expecting their first child in the summer.

Nancy and Jonathan remained broken up, with Nancy in therapy and Jonathan dating a friend of Miranda’s.

Jeff and Miranda were getting married in February, the reception to be held at the Nightmare Holes.

Mike and Will were official now, too and were in talks to move in together. They were trying to decide to move to Will’s apartment, Mike’s, or a find another apartment all together. One that was both their space.

Erica had moved to New York to be with Max and Lucas. But all of them were in town for the party. Having planned it around when the Knicks would be in town.

Hopper was loving Eden as his apprentice, hers almost being up. He was eyeing the first of the year to promote her.

Brian came out as ace and that Cecil was his platonic life partner and had been for the last couple of years.

Gareth and Gethin were still sharing the apartment, but they were still single. Gethin was always looking for the next Mrs Hughes, but Gareth was content to find out more about himself before diving into a relationship.

Dustin and Suzie were also expecting, but they had just found earlier that week.

The Binghams were so excited that two of their daughters were pregnant and were planning to come up in the summer to help with Eden’s baby and help Suzie get ready for hers.

They were all gathered around in the kitchen with a package that Murray had sent over that morning.

“Come on, Ed,” Wayne said softly. “Open ‘er up.”

Eddie nodded and tore the brown paper off the gift. He let out a choked out sob.

Steve put his arm around Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh sunshine,” Steve breathed. “Show everyone.”

Eddie nodded and lifted it over his head so everyone could see.

There in a black frame and nestled in a white background was a gold record for their song, Pretty Boy Under Bright Lights. The first love song Eddie ever wrote for Steve. And it had just sold its five hundred thousand copy.

They all started cheering.

Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek fiercely. “See? I knew you could do it on your terms, Eds. You are a rockstar now.”

Tears ran down his cheeks nodding his head. Then he was surrounded by his band. They were hugging him and cheering.

Sometimes it really does work out for everyone. Even if didn’t happen the way they thought it would.

Eddie thought back to that day so long ago when Max had called him to let him know that she was leaving. He never thought that losing a tattoo artist would change his life forever.

Later that night, he pulled her aside.

“I owe you big time, Red,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

Max grinned. “Hell yeah you do.”

“Anything you want, you’ve got,” Eddie promised. “My left kidney. My first child.”

She laughed. “When you two get married, I want to do matching tattoos on both of you.”

Eddie blinked. “Deal!”

Steve wandered over just then. “What’s a deal?”

Max grinned up at him. “Eddie just promised me that I get to do wedding tats when you two get married.”

Steve looked at Eddie and then back to Max. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Max nodded once. “Damn straight it is.”

“Oh, honey,” Eddie teased. “There ain’t nothing straight about this relationship.”

She smacked his arm.

But Eddie just giggled.

“Come on,” Max said. “I want to see it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You saw it on my Insta.”

“It’s not the same and you know it,” she growled. “I want to see Steve’s masterpiece.”

Steve blushed. “Come on, Max...”

Eddie looked at his blush and then turned to Max. “Fine. But here and not out there where everyone can gawk.”

“Well, duh,” she said. “That’s why I asked now.”

Eddie took off his shirt and turned around.

“Oh shit,’ she hissed. “It’s even better than the pictures give it credit. Steve, this is incredible. There’s no way I could have done something like that.”

Steve ducked his head. “I really really like how it turned out.”

Eddie put his shirt back on. “Yeah. Me too. I just don’t like showing it off, because it’s so personal. Between me and Steve.”

Max nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely. Thanks for showing me.”

Eddie nodded back and wrapped his arms around, Steve. “Thanks for everything, Red.”

She waved them off. All she had done was leave. But they didn’t see it that way. So yeah, they owed everything to Max, for choosing to live her life on her own terms.

“Before we go back to the party,” Steve said. “I wanted to give you another present before we got to the main one later.”

Eddie’s shoulder sagged. “Babe you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Steve said scratching his cheek. “In fact it was something I’ve been meaning to give to you for a long time.”

He pulled out a brightly wrapped package the size of baseball.

“This isn’t a baseball, is it?” Eddie asked playfully.

Steve laughed. “No. It’s not that.”

Eddie removed the wrapping paper to find a small black velvet box. He opened it slowly.

“Babe, you can’t give this to me,” he begged. “This is the only thing you have left of your grandpa.”

Steve took it out and slid it on Eddie’s middle finger on his right hand. It fit perfectly. “I’ve been wanting you to have it since you gave me your lucky guitar pick. I wanted to give you something that was on the same level of importance to me that this was for you.” He tapped the pick gently that was under his shirt.

“It’s not–you’re not–”

Steve shook his head. “I will propose. Just not yet and not with that. You’ll get a ring on your left hand, sunshine. Make no mistake.”

Eddie nodded. “I love you, babe.”

“Steven Courtney Alexander Harrington you better not be making out in there!”

Eddie and Steve laughed and kissed deeply, then they walked back to the party, arms wrapped around each other.

“Right names, wrong order,” Eddie teased as they rejoined the group.

Robin blinked. “Wait, really?”

Steve nodded.

“I can’t believe you told him before you told me!” Robin hissed. “I was here first!”

“But I liked watching you guess,” he said laughing. Then he turned to the rest of the crowd. “Who told?”

Robin wiggled her shoulders smugly. “No one told me. I looked up your grandparents. They’re both pretty famous, after all.”

Steve sighed. “Again which of you told her to look it up?”

Robin’s jaw dropped and Vickie’s hand slowly went up.

“Traitor!” Robin said in mock outrage.

Eddie leaned down to see that Steve was pouting about her learning his middle name.

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” he said kissing Steve’s cheek. “We can make her guess my middle name.”

Steve immediately brightened up. “Oohhh. Yeah, okay. It’ll take her years to guess yours!”

“It’s Wayne,” Robin said confidently.

Wayne snorted from the corner. “You really think my deadbeat brother would name his son after me, the responsible one?”

She frowned.

Steve turned to Eddie gleefully. “You’re right, sunshine. Best game ever.”

Robin started shouting out names and it wasn’t even Eddie correcting her. It was Jeff, and Miranda, and Gareth, and Brian and everyone else who knew Eddie’s middle name.

And of course Steve knew it too, but he liked watching their friends and family laugh and try to guess. Because the truth was, Eddie didn’t have a middle name. Robin could guess forever and never get it right.

Steve curled up against Eddie’s side and sighed happily. It was his best year yet. And as long as he had Eddie by his side, they would all be great years to come.

END

****

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve #complete

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ssinnerplazahotel · 2 months ago

Text

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Fifteen*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 5k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

finale pt. 2

“They want you for the cover of Harper’s Bazaar.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

“Because they think you’re ‘extraordinarily beautiful,’” He said, quoting the request directly. “‘Otherworldly.’

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Well, I happen to agree that you’re out of this world.”

He smiled as you sat down in his lap, hugging his neck as you glanced over the letter. You thought about the offer for a moment.

“You don’t have to think about it too much,” Elvis said when he noticed your contemplation. “I’ll tell them you don’t want to do it.”

“Will you do it with me?”

“They didn’t ask me, dirty bird, they asked you.”

You laughed. “I know but…we do everything together.”

You knew if Elvis was on the cover they’d hardly spare you a glance. Doing it alone opened up the floor for criticism—criticism you no longer had the tolerance for. Though the hit pieces you saw were few and far between (Elvis made sure of that) you knew there was another level of hate out there.

“It should be all about you,” He said. “You have a few months to make up your mind.”

“They may not want me in a few months.”

“Why’s that?”

You shrugged dismissively. “I might be pregnant.”

You felt him tense beneath you. “You think?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “I’m late but…I’ve been late before.”

“They said there was a chance~”

“I don’t want to get excited. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“That mindset won’t get you far.”

“And being optimistic will?”

You stood up before he could respond, taking the lighter from the corner of his desk. He watched you wordlessly as you took a cigarette from its case and lit it.

“How late?”

“Don’t start with the questions, E.”

He stood with a sigh, dropping the pen that he had been fidgeting with. “Well, let me know when you start giving a fuck.”

You faced him. “You’re upset?”

“No.” You stopped him from leaving. “Birdie, I don’t care if you don’t.”

“I care,” You said. “I’m just scared.”

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then that’s just it.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do understand.”

“Do you know what a miscarriage feels like?”

He retracted, but he was still upset. “I don’t see the point in trying if we’re gonna ignore it when it happens.”

“I’m not ignoring it,” You said. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well.” He walked past you. “I guess we’ll see.”

The months slipped by agonizingly slow. It was a miserable day every day you woke up still pregnant. It wasn’t that you hoped for another miscarriage, you just hated the anticipation of it all. It was hard to even acknowledge the fact.

You were measuring small, even towards the end of term. The doctors told you it was due to stress. It wasn’t the baby that was stressing you out however.

“I can’t believe I’m the one telling you that we need to get some things in order around here,” Elvis said, forcing you out of bed. “That sucker’s gonna pop out any day now, honey. They told us that weeks ago.”

“It’s fine,” You complained. “I’m sure someone will have the room ready overnight if you ask them.”

“This ain’t the inn, birdie,” He said. “You don’t just put it together in one day. Shouldn’t you have some kind of maternal instinct by now?”

You weren’t prepared to have a baby, let alone be a mother. You feared that you’d mess it up, like you mess up everything else.

“Come help me put this thing together,” Elvis said, returning to his passion project for that afternoon—the baby’s bassinet.

“Put it together in the nursery,” You said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It doesn’t make sense to do it here.”

“She’s not sleeping alone in a nursery,” He said. “You gotta keep her close the first few months at least. Unless you want a psychopath on our hands.”

“You read too much.”

“You don’t read enough.”

“Down the hall isn’t close enough?”

“Don’t be cruel.”

You watched him as he intently read the instructions word for word—ordering you around as he did so.

“A should snap into D,” He said, pointing the pieces out to you. “And B into C.”

“What?”

“A and D, B and C.”

“That’s so stupid.”

“Let me do it.”

It felt like everything was happening to you. You were nothing more than a variable in this equation and life was insistent on working you out.

“Just breathe for a second~”

“Is it happening?”

“Calm down~”

“Is it really happening?”

“Birdie, relax.”

You couldn’t, how could you? You were in labor, actual labor. Elvis had kept his wits about him when you told him but that didn’t stop you from succumbing to the feeling of impending doom that you had been trying to outrun for the past eight and a half months.

“Get off the phone, E,” You said, rushing him along. “We need to get there before they really start. I can’t handle it.”

“I’m coming,” He said, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “Go get dressed, you can’t go out like that.”

“I’m going to have a baby.”

“Go change,” He insisted. “You could use the distraction while I get this together.”

“Please hurry,” You said, going to find something decent to wear. “I don’t want to feel anything. I can’t take it, I already told you~”

“I know, darlin,” He said halfheartedly. “We’re practically already there.”

You were fully in labor when you arrived at the hospital and barely in time for the epidural. But, after twelve and a half hours, you were welcoming your first daughter into the world.

It was a moment that already felt surreal in your head but even more so as you watched it all play out in front of you. It was painless—as painless as it could be—and you were happy. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. In reality, you had no idea what you were feeling.

“Birdie?”

“Hm?”

“Her name.”

Your eyes met Elvis’s as you held your daughter. He looked down at the both of you with such admiration.

“Are you asking me what it should be?”

“No, I’m telling you.”

“Birdie’s no name for a baby, E.”

“It could be.”

You looked down at the child in your arms, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands balled into tiny fists. “How about…Lark?”

“…I like it.” Elvis kissed your temple before leaning his head against yours and looking down at his daughter. “Y’know…we’re gonna have to tell the press soon.”

“Yeah, I know,” You responded. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”

“It’s no rush.”

“Of course it is. They’re probably camped outside waiting.”

You turned your head when he didn’t respond, finding a telling expression on his face. “E…they are not camped outside waiting.”

“I don’t know how they found out~”

“Why would you say anything about telling them if they already know?” Your shift in tone startled the sleeping newborn in your arms, causing her to fuss. “Oh god, take her please~”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You weren’t sure if he was consoling you or the baby as he took her and stood from the bed. “It’s okay, hunna.”

You stared in the direction of the window, unable to see out but still picturing the press crowded around the building.

“What are they saying?” You asked, looking at him. “I know you’ve heard something so don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” He said in a hushed tone, walking the baby over to the crib that the hospital provided. “It’s just a shock, really. Most of the reactions are good.”

You didn’t believe him but you didn’t argue. You were too tired to go back and forth any longer.

After a restless night, you were awoken by Elvis saying that you were being discharged.

“Liz is here.”

“Why?”

“We have to go through the press to get out of here.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“They want to see us.”

You went through hair and makeup, nursing Lark along the way. You handed her off quickly after she was fed.

“Doesn’t hurt to hold her sometimes, bert,” Elvis said.

“Please don’t start calling me that,” You complained tensely as Liz zipped the back of your dress. You could hardly breathe in the stiff fabric.

“You don’t like it?” He laughed.

“No,” You exclaimed. “How do you get ‘bert’ from ‘birdie?’”

“D’You hear it, Lizzie?” He asked.

Liz shrugged and muttered something about hearing where he’d gotten it from.

“I can’t hear it,” You said. “I also can’t breathe.”

“You definitely don’t look like you had a baby twenty-four hours ago,” Liz said, adding the final touches. “They’ll love it.”

You enjoyed your brief interactions with Liz. She wasn’t talkative—by nature or per Elvis’s request you didn’t know. She finished up and left.

“What’s wrong?” Elvis asked when she was gone, laying the baby down.

“I don’t want them to see me,” You confessed. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”

“Why?” He wondered. “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes threatened to roll at the compliment. You didn’t feel beautiful. You felt sore and tired—all but beautiful.

“It’ll be quick,” Elvis said. “Like tearin off a bandaid.”

The nurses insisted that you be wheeled to the car but you politely declined. You could make it walking.

Lark was carried out in her car seat first, heavily protected on all sides before you and Elvis casually strolled out of the building. It was pure chaos outside but you tuned everything out. When you finally made it to the car Elvis let you in before following suit. It was quick, like he promised.

“Andrea?”

You were shocked to see her waiting for you in the foyer when you arrived back at Graceland. She stopped you before you grew excited.

“I came back for the baby.”

You smiled despite her cold demeanor. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Her expression softened when Elvis entered with the car seat in tow. He sighed as he shut the front door.

“You came,” He stated.

“For the baby,” Andrea clarified again, kneeling down to peek at her in the carrier. “What’s her name?”

“Lark,” You responded. “Like the bird.”

“You named her after a bird?” Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s sentimental.” You shrugged. “You don’t like it?”

“I think it’s a beautiful name.”

Your head snapped instantly in the direction of Dawn’s voice. She stood off to the side watching the interaction unfold.

“Aunt Dawn,” You said delightfully. “You made it.”

“I promised I would,” She said, opening her arms and wrapping you in her familiar embrace. “I had to see this to believe it.”

You felt small in her arms, like the child you once were. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She rubbed your back as she held you. “I’m here.”

“Let’s get you to bed, little bit,” Elvis said, cutting your embrace short. “Doctor’s orders.”

Things were different around the house with the baby and Andrea. Dawn stayed for a few days but ultimately returned to her house a few minutes up the road.

You promised to bring Lark over as often as you could, and you meant it. You aimed to go over every other weekend, but that changed into whenever Elvis could make the trip. He hated for you to visit Dawn on your own. You hadn’t paid it any mind until she brought it up one evening.

“It’s like he’s afraid to leave you alone with me,” She complained. “I’m your aunt. I practically raised you.”

“It’s not like that, Aunt Dawn,” You said as you buckled Lark into her seat. “He hates for me to travel alone. That’s all. There are crazy people out there.”

“He hates for you to do anything alone. It’s concerning.”

“No, it’s sweet. And he really enjoys our visits.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t do this.”

“I hardly recognize you. You look exhausted.”

“That’s because I am exhausted.”

“Andrea and Joel seem to think~”

“Are you really going to let Joel and Andrea ruin our day? They’re the reason he hardly lets me come over anyway. Have they turned you against him too?”

“My worry for you has nothing to do with my feelings about him.”

“Don’t believe anything they say, it’s all made up.”

“Why would they make these things up?”

“Because they don’t want to see us together.”

Elvis appeared from the house then, carrying Lark’s missing pacifier.

“Where was it, baby?” You asked, ignoring the disconcerted expression on Dawn’s face.

“Under the couch,” He said. “The drive back would’ve been hell without it.”

“You two be careful,” Dawn said. “It’s getting dark soon.”

“We will be,” You said, stepping forward and hugging her. “Don’t worry about me. Please, I’m okay.”

“See you, Dawny,” Elvis said, hugging her briefly as well. “I’ll bring them by again soon.”

“I look forward to it.” She watched the two of you climb into the car and waved as you left.

“What’s got her so worried about you?”

“Hm?”

“Dawn. You told her not to worry?”

You shrugged dismissively. “She’s always like that.”

He hummed, unsatisfied with your response. “Did you say something in particular to get her like that?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know…she said I looked tired.”

Andrea was there to scoop up Lark the minute you got back. She claimed to not trust the two of you alone with her. She meant it as a joke but a part of you couldn’t help but think she was serious.

“I was about to take her upstairs,” You said. “She needs to get changed and fed.”

“I can do it,” Andrea offered as she bounced Lark in her arms. “I don’t mind.”

“That’s alright~”

“Let her do it,” Elvis said. “We’re gonna be down here anyway.”

“I was going to,” You said as he took the diaper bag from your shoulder and handed it off to Andrea. “It’ll only take a second.”

“I don’t mind,” Andrea insisted. “Go relax. I’m on baby duty.”

“Come on, bert,” Elvis said, laughing at the nickname as he guided you away.

You watched Andrea carefully climb the stairs until she was out of your view.

The scene downstairs was too chaotic and you would’ve preferred to be anywhere else. Elvis kept a heavy arm around your shoulders as you sat silently by his side amongst the group.

Despite your presence, there were still numerous women who had taken the same mundane interest in him as the hundreds (thousands, or even millions) who came before them. You couldn’t blame them, or the way they stared shamelessly—he was too beautiful to only steal a glance.

What they wanted from him was surface level, they craved his body, but his mind and soul were yours—some crude part of you wanted them to know that. You felt invisible next to him as their eyes locked on his every move.

“What?” Elvis asked when he noticed you shifting closer.

“I want to go upstairs,” You said, giving him a look and hoping he’d understand. You placed a suggestive hand on his thigh to further express your point. “Please.”

“Don’t, birdie, come on,” He scolded, moving your hand from his thigh.

“I need you,” You said. “Don’t you want me?”

His jaw twitched. “Why are you being like that in front of all these people?”

“They like watching so much, I figured we’d put on a show.”

“What?”

“A show, y’know…”

His eyes narrowed as he processed what you were saying.

“I want them to know that you’re mine,” You confessed.

“And the only way to prove that is to…?”

“Show them.”

“How?” He laughed.

“Kiss me,” You insisted. “Touch me.”

“You’re crazy,” He muttered under his breath. “I don’t know how I put up with you.”

His words hurt but in some sort of satisfying way.

He kissed your cheek and his deep voice vibrated in your ear when he whispered, “Go upstairs.”

You stood, trying not to pout as you left the room. You stopped by Lark’s nursery on your way by and you saw Andrea but you didn't make your presence known as you watched them. She was so good with her.

Elvis came up the stairs as you stood there and you immediately went to the bedroom without a word. You shut the door behind yourself, making him open it moments later.

“What? You have a problem with me?” He asked, slamming the door.

You faced him—crossing your arms.

“How can I help that they were looking at us?”

“They were looking at you, not me.”

“D’you know who I was looking at? You.”

“Do they know that?”

“Who cares what they know?”

“I do.”

“So, what, you want me to fuck you in a room full of people?”

You pushed him away when he stepped closer but even with all your strength he didn’t budge. You struggled against him when he grabbed your wrists, trying to pull away. His grip tightened and he forced you into a rough kiss. As much as you wanted to deny him you gave in quickly.

He made you straddle him when he sat on the edge of the bed, assisting your movements with a tight grip on your waist and making you grind your core against the bulge forming in his pants.

“You’re gonna finish what you were trying to start out there,” He said. “Do you understand?”

You aren’t sure what came over you in that moment, but you brought your right hand up and struck his cheek in one swift motion. He seemed as shocked by the action as you were, his head cocked to the side—frozen for a moment before acting suddenly.

He stood and shoved you onto your back, wrapping a hand around your neck.

You nodded in encouragement. “Hit me back.”

He kissed you, there was a gentleness lingering behind his touch that you wanted him to let go of. “Don’t be brutal.”

“I want it.”

“You want me to hit you?”

“Yes.”

He examined your expression for a moment before pulling away. You waited as he sat back on his heels and silently removed his shirt.

“Take off your dress,” He finally said, waiting expectantly.

You smiled and shook your head ‘no.’ He was on you immediately, forcing you onto your front before unzipping the back of your dress. He stripped you, leaving you in only your heels and panties.

“On your back,” He demanded.

You turned over but immediately lifted your foot, using the pointed end of your heel to keep him from coming closer. He grabbed your ankle and ripped the shoe from your foot before wrestling the other off.

He forced himself between your legs. You tried to push him away but he pinned your hands beside your head—he wasn’t letting up but you could feel his frustration building.

You forced a heavy moan and arched your back, playing up your pleasure and becoming pliant. He released your wrists and you put your arms around his shoulders—you let him kiss you fully before grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling. You tugged harshly and he groaned.

“Don’t do that,” He said through clenched teeth. “Fucking let go.”

“Make me,” You challenged. “Hit me.”

“What’s that do for you?”

“It makes me feel like yours.”

You closed your eyes as he kissed you, releasing your grip on his hair.

“You are mine,” He muttered against your lips. “I don’t have to hit you to prove that, do I?”

“No,” You agreed, trying not to let your excitement show as he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.

“You’re my girl?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what that means?”

Your eyes widened when his ring and middle fingers suddenly pushed past your lips, forcing your tongue down. You gagged and tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. The rings on his fingers clanked uncomfortably against your teeth but you couldn’t avoid them.

“It means—” His face was close to yours. “—that you hold yourself together when other girls make you jealous, you don’t fall apart and turn into a desperate nag.” He only pulled away after you choked, his fingers covered in your saliva. “You should know that by now, birdie. You’re actin like an amateur.”

You hardly had a second to breathe before he was forcing you onto your back.

“You’re always asking why I never use your mouth and you can’t even handle two fingers. It’s fucking adorable.” His words must’ve had the effect he wanted them to, because he laughed when you started struggling again. “You’re just a little girl. You don’t know the first thing about what you’re getting into when you ask me to do shit like this to you.”

“You’d rather fuck one of them?”

“I probably would’ve if it weren’t for your bad attitude.”

You fought harder but he held you down under half his body weight.

“You don’t like that?” He asked knowingly, grunting as he thrusted his touch-starved erection against your core.

“No, I don’t fucking like that,” You spat. “You’re an asshole.”

“Your mouth.” He tutted, disapprovingly.

“Fuck you.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck y~”

You were stunned by the slap that crossed your face. It didn’t hurt but it stung in an addicting way and made you throb with desperation.

“That’s what you want?” He asked, you could hear the panic reserved in his tone. He was checking in.

“Yes,” You reassured him.

“When did you get like this?” He muttered, sitting up and instructing you to remove his belt. “Come on. It’s the least you can do after being such a mean little thing.”

You sat up with him to unbuckle the belt. He took your face in his hands and kissed you, still unable to resist your lips.

“Say you love me,” He demanded, breaking the kiss. “Fucking say it.”

“I love you,” You said. “I love you, I love you, I love you~”

“Alright, shut up,” He interrupted. “You’re gonna get yourself off, d’you think you can do that?”

You followed him as he sat back against the headboard, letting him force you to straddle him. You brought your hand up in an attempt to land your revenge, but he caught your wrist before you could connect.

“Don’t try it again.” He tore your underwear from around your waist, ruining them. “Take my rings off.”

You reached for his hand and he pulled it out of your reach.

“Uh, uh,” He hummed. “Use your mouth.”

You hesitate but parted your lips anyway. He swore as you used your mouth to remove each ring, leaving his fingers glistening with your saliva.

“Last one,” He said as you spit another ring into his right palm and took his left ring finger in your mouth. He hissed as the wedding band slipped from his finger and into your mouth. He stopped you from spitting it out. “Keep it in your mouth. Don’t swallow it.”

You wanted to protest but focused your attention instead on not letting the ring slip down your throat. He kissed your chest as his wet fingers glided through your slick folds.

With his left hand occupied and his right arm wrapped around your back, you had a clear opportunity to land another sharp slap across his cheek.

He released an involuntary gasp upon contact, clenching his jaw and sighing through his nose.

“Spit,” He demanded, holding his left hand out for the ring. You let fall out of your mouth along with the pool of saliva that had collected.

He tossed the ring aside and leaned forward until you laid flat against the bed. He forced his fingers into you, curling them deep.

“It’s not enough that I married you, and gave you my child,” He said through labored breathing. “You want me to use you in a room full of people to prove a point.”

“People you would’ve had the luxury of screwing if I were nicer.”

“You know I say that kind of shit to piss you off.”

You released an accented moan as he slammed his fingers harshly into you, cutting your rebuttal short.

His hand found your throat again and applied more pressure. Your eyes widened in shock when your breathing was interrupted and you struggled to push him off.

“What?” He stopped moving. “Too soft? Harder?”

He waited another second and let go.

“Harder,” You gasped.

“Really?” His thrusts became longer and deeper—making your legs tremble as he reached that spot that made your toes curl. “But you’re crying, mama.”

He knew as well as you did that the tears in your eyes had nothing to do with you crying and everything to do with him choking you moments before. But he’d use the tears as a testimony to your pain if it made you appear frail.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, knowing the answer.

You wanted to tell him to keep going, but it was too much. The last thing you wanted to do was prove him right by affirming your sensitivity. Rather than appear weak, you opted for silence.

“Okay,” He whispered, kissing your lips gently. “I’ll take care of you, darlin, don’t worry.”

He sat up and silently motioned ‘come here’ with both hands—his lids heavy and his pupils blown with lust. You forced yourself to sit up, figuring it best to agree. He wrapped his arms around your torso, expecting you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Stay,” He whispered. “What’re you gonna do?”

“…Stay.” You shivered when he entered you, relaxing into his hold and completely relinquishing your senses.

“Good girl…see? You can be a sweet girl.”

You couldn’t feel anything outside of him. You couldn’t see, hear, smell, or taste anything…only him.

“You walk around like you have so much to prove,” He said, his voice low in your ear. “I don’t know why.”

You couldn’t respond, you couldn’t form any words as that familiar knot started to form in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s like you’re jealous of a couple of strangers,” He continued, rocking his hips upward to thrust inside of you. “Do you want me to treat you like them? Like I don’t know you—like I don’t love you?”

The world fell away and for a moment you were just a body made up of electricity and burning pleasure. Your eyes rolled and you trembled. He kept going.

“Do you want me fuck you like a stranger?” He muttered, you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you anymore.

“Please,” You whispered, encouraging him. “…fuck me like a stranger.”

His hips stuttered and he came instantly, bursting inside of you like a teenager. You felt the warmth of his release pooling inside of you and seeping between your thighs.

You climbed out of his lap, leaving no time for either of you to come down or catch your breath. You tried to turn away—too woozy to get up—but he grabbed you by the arm and made you face him. You wouldn’t look at him, so he gripped your jaw.

“I love you,” He panted. “I…love you. That’s the difference. That makes all the difference.”

You met his eyes. “That makes everything okay?”

“No,” He admitted. “It doesn’t.”

You couldn’t read his expression—his lids were heavy with post-orgasmic bliss. He was still coming down from his high, not speaking for himself but from his pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

You hugged him back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to revel in his apology while he was sorry—because you knew he wouldn’t be for long.

He pulled away from the embrace after a few minutes. “Say it back.”

You smiled, you almost thought he hadn’t noticed. “I love you too.”

He smiled, content.

“You should get back out there,” You said. “Seemed like the night was just getting started.”

“I’m not finished with you just yet,” He said, smirking suggestively. “You’ve awoken something inside of me.”

“Oh no,” You said sarcastically, laughing as his hands shamefully roamed your body. “What have I done?”

“Where’s Lark?”

“With Andrea still.”

“Perfect.”

You squeaked in surprise when he rolled onto his back and pulled you onto his lap.

“Tell me what to do."

You paused. "What do you mean?"

His fingernails grazed your bare thighs as he smiled timidly. "I want you to order me around. Make me do things I wouldn’t usually do.”

You would grow to accept that there would be no final retribution or day of reckoning. No fight, no agreement, no threat, no reconciliation.

Those things didn’t matter when it came to the two of you. At the end of it all—good, bad, ugly and indifferent—you two would remain. It was an undisputed truth…wherever you went, you went together.

You could be opposites, or just alike, it’d make no difference. He could be like the sea. Open, free, abundant in what he could give. Charitable, but indulgent. Hazardous, but certain. You could be like the desert. Brutal, unforthcoming, full of life in some areas but destitute in others. Fertile, but not nurturing. Guarded, but unprotected. You could have been all those things and one simple fact would remain.

Wherever there was Elvis Presley, so too was his baby birdie.

—fin.

#elvis presley #elvis imagine #austin butler #elvis smut #black reader #elvis fluff #elvis presely smut #elvis x black reader #elvis x you #the bikeriders #60s elvis

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 3 months ago

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Friends to Lovers Fics Masterlist (13)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 /

Created: June 6th, 2024

Checked:---

That Time We Took Over the World-Gamemakers (ao3) Summary: Being a session guitarist pays well, but Katniss Everdeen’s always wanted a taste of the spotlight. Enter Peeta Mellark, whose boyband fame faded twenty years ago, and a not-quite-dying wish from an old friend, and she’s in for way more than she bargained for. The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64-populardarling (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta used to be best friends when they were kids, but now in high school, they're barely on speaking terms. It isn't until they are forced together as the titular star-crossed lovers for their marching band's field show that they will have to face their past mistakes and try to get along if they ever hope of defeating the notorious Capitol Height's Imperial Marching Crusaders in competition. It's all about winning and if that means pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark, so be it. But a lot can happen in six months. The Ghost of You-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen thought they were just her imaginary friends. Turns out, they were very real—and dead. An Everlark take on the movie “Heart and Souls.” The Great Panem Christmas Bake-Off-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Aspiring baker Katniss Everdeen finally gets her chance when she's chosen for The Great Panem Christmas Bake Off. Too bad, she's already managed to piss off famous baker and Bake-Off judge, Peeta Mellark. The Holiday Stand In-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen needs a guy to pretend to be her boyfriend for the holidays, and when she meets Peeta Mellark she thinks he's the answer to her Christmas prayers. Peeta also happens to need a significant other to take home to show off to his folks. So Katniss proposes that they pose as each other's dates for the holiday season. Just to get their families off their backs. But pretending to be in love is a dangerous game, one that Katniss might not end up winning unless she plays her cards right. The Hoodie-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Based off the prompt: I’ve been wearing my boyfriend’s hoodie around the house for the last week. I tried to give it back last night. “That’s not my hoodie.” He said. I then realized with horror I’ve been wearing our builder’s hoodie. In front of our builder. The Long Weekend-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Two assistants who barely tolerate each other. One snowy cabin. One very long weekend. Oh, and one bed. The Marrow of the Story-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: Written for the Everlark Fic Exchange Springtime 2020 Edition Prompt 17: Everlark enemies to lovers, a long-standing grudge (could be anything, even simple) but somehow it is discovered that Katniss is a bone marrow match for Peeta. If she doesn’t donate he will die. The One She Left Behind-Xerxia (ao3) Summary: Everlark modern AU Weeks after moving to New York, Peeta Mellark encounters a woman he thought he'd never see again. The Pact-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: prompt: best friends everlark!pact on marrying each other when they turn 30 and are still single. now both are 30 and very much married. what comes after? (surprisingly good sex, awkward kids talk, explaining to families and friends) its up to you☺

#friends to lovers #masterlist #friendstolovers #thg fanfiction #everlark fanfiction #thg #everlark

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domoriu · 3 days ago

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i have some questions and i was wondering if you could answer them because you’re one of my favorite writers on here. plus you’re stories and vibe are very similar to mine so i’d love to here your POV!

do you have any advice and this on how to start a fanfic writing account? (on tumblr!)

how to make write good as in flow, wording, better sentences, etc? ik for this one it’s going to take practice but since i write a little already i was wondering how to make my writing actually sound good? (because urs is amazing!)

tips on motivation to write and post?

how is it as a writer on onedoorblr? (fics for bonedo) in terms of like the space to be able to post “different” stories. (hybrid, abo, freakysmutlol, femdom, dark as in tragedy’s and horror.) plus interactions, notes/likes?

sorry if this is a lot but i didn’t know who else to ask and you feel like a safer option to me of that makes sense? anyways we all love you and your stories a lot! 🩶 i hope the rest of your week is amazing (*^_^*)

OKAY I HAD TO GET ON MY LAPTOP TO ANSWER THIS ONE SINCE ITS A LOT!! also sorry if my advice is a little weird ive genuienly been in the fanfic scene for like 8 years now since i was 11 so i dont even know the answer to these myself (not my proudest moments btw...) so i'll try to give the best advice i can <3

1. i think... start off by finding a username that you think suits you a lot, and then worry about theme and all that just so your account looks good to your own eyes i think that'll really help with getting motivated to write (for me at least) and also really just have fun with it !! figuring out what you want to do on your page is also important so you can set those boundaries for yourself as well as the people engaging in your content but also always remember its your page so you can really do whatever you please. and dont be too discouraged by numbers because once you feel like its not fun and you're putting too much pressure on yourself it gets hard to make content.

2. for word building/flow all that kind of stuff... really imagine the scenarios in your head (maybe even act them out if you can, to make sure everything is flowing properly) if you're writing smut, what helps me is i look up sex positions or look up porn to get a good idea on the positioning and how to write things out. for word flow, i always have a thesaurus tab open that way i'm not using the same basic words repeatedly (this is probably the most helpful piece of advice imo, i love the thesaurus super bad) and also if you ever feel like the work isn't good or needs a little tweaking id say read it over, try to read it from the pov of someone who's reading your work for the first time or even get someone to beta read for you and give suggestions for any errors or anything that needs a bit of tweaking

3. for motivation, write down the gist of any idea you have down immediately because you might forget it or you'll just never have the motivation to really finish it. i have so many fic ideas locked away in a vault because i started writing the idea when the excitement for it died down or i completely lost motivation to write it because my brain wanted to move onto another fic idea.

write on your own schedule. just because you have a following doesn't mean you need to put out a new fic every single day, give yourself time to recollect your thoughts and work on a piece where you can put all of your attention into so you can be truly proud of your work !! because what's the point of writing something if you yourself don't even like it. and a lot of us have lives outside of tumblr, so don't pressure yourself to constantly write because soon you might get burnt out. i think having people who actually like my works is a lot of motivation as well as not feeling rushed to put things out so its like a little treat when i post something big

4. i love the people on onedoorblr !! the community isn't super big but she's growing a lot since i joined this fandom in april... and id say the range is pretty good with the people on here and everyone has their own unique things going on. i think its a pretty safe space here to write about "different" stuff, a lottt of my mutuals are all on the femdom kick when it comes to bonedo and there's a good balance of smut writers and people who write more fluffy things, i'm not sure how common the abo/hybrid/dark content fics are on onedoorblr since i don't tend to read fics in those categories but i have seen a couple hybrid bnd fics in passing !

since bnd tumblr is still kind of small you might not get a lot of notes upfront but it definitely builds up, unlike nct/enha/riize tumblr where you can basically get around 500/1k+ notes on a post within a couple days it might take a week or two also depending on who you write about. but don't get discouraged by it !! some members are just more popular in the fanfic world than others

i hope this was helpful and dont be afraid to ask any more questions >_< thank you soso much for liking my works and im glad u feel like my page is a safe space for questions that means a lot to me !! i hope your week is amazing as well <33

#mail …♡ᵎᵎ

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matchagator · 10 months ago

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Hustlers: Snow Retreat

The gems are further up the mountain, taking in the frigid air of Montreal, however, they're not prepared for the slippery slopes they will face as they enjoy their time at a Ski Resort.

*Make sure to check out previous episodes to follow the story. Let us know how you're liking the story so far by leaving a comment 😊*

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Park Jimin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

{Rating:} 18+

{Genre:} Alternate Universe - Hustlers/ Con Artists

{Word Count:} 24k

{Warning} Mild Sexual Content, References to Stealing, Mature Language, Manipulation, Angst, Sexual Harassment, Drugging, Drowning, and Alcohol

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hustlers Episode Order:

Episode 1: Sin City

Episode 2: Pink Diamond

Episode 3: Cyber Flight

Episode 4: Wine Country

Episode 5: Art Auction

Episode 6: Magic Men

Episode 7: Unwind

Episode 8: Snow Retreat

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BIG FISH: Seoho

LOCATION: Montreal, Canada

As the chill of the autumnal season morphed into a flurry of a white winter, the three femme fatales found themselves traveling to the opposite side of the great white north, enjoying more time in the cold environment as they found another target worthy of their time.

Emmy and Ruby casually lounged about the main lobby of a luxurious ski lodge in the French province of the country, excited for some foreign flare as they embarked on another hustle to make up for their embarrassing loss in the Yukon. Ruby let her body melt into the plush fabric of the leather sofa cushions placed strategically beside a grand fireplace that warmed the entire space.

The girls admired the large-scale stone structure towering over the lobby as two grand wooden staircases wrapped around the stone mantelpiece. The lodge had extravagant vaulted ceilings, the walls complimenting it perfectly with round logs lining its entirety.

Jade ventured her way towards the youngest of her trio after successfully checking into their accommodations, holding up a small envelope with key cards as she proudly approached her friends. “Did someone request a luxury suite?” She grinned happily, handing off the keys to Ruby who seemed more than thrilled to have one of the nicest rooms the hotel had to offer.

“That’s more like it!” Ruby’s eyes danced with excitement as she turned to face her counterparts. “I’m warning you both right now, I’m staying inside this lodge.” Her smile faded as she crossed her arms over her chest, a sneer of attitude dripping from her words. “It’s bad enough we’re staying another week in this god-forsaken weather.”

Emmy and Jade glanced at each other from Ruby’s remark, both of them fighting a laugh as they agreed to her terms. “Don’t worry, this is my element.” Emmy reassured her as their conversation was drowned out by a group of men chattering not too far from their location.

Jade’s eyes snapped in their direction, seeing the object of their attention strolling past them with a few hotel personnel escorting him to the concierge desk. She quickly maneuvered herself to sit between the other two girls trying to make out the conversation.

“That’s him.” Jade gestured with her head ever so slightly towards the multi-millionaire checking into the infamous ski lodge. “Lee Seoho.” Her voice was just hushed enough for Emmy and Ruby to hear.

Emmy casually stretched her arm over the back of the couch, turning her body toward the eldest as her eyes shifted to find their target. She was surprised to find a devilishly handsome young man, someone who had to be relatively close to her own age. Her eyes sparkled with intent as she rested her chin in her hand. “He’s very handsome.” She cooed as Ruby finally glanced back herself.

“Shouldn’t be hard for you then.” Ruby teased as she shot Emmy a knowing glance.

Emmy shrugged her shoulders as she playfully bit her lip. “Always makes the job more interesting.” She admitted as Jade quickly nudged her side to gather her attention.

“What are they saying?” Jade questioned, pointing subtly towards two hotel staff that were now speaking the native language of the province of Quebec. Emmy turned her attention to the two male staff members, eavesdropping in on their conversation as she identified the French words being exchanged.

Emmy looked back at Jade. “They said to make sure everything was arranged for his ski reservation.”

Ruby quickly patted her hand on Jade’s shoulder, grinning mischievously. “Looks like someone needs to book a ski trip at the same time. Enjoy the cold.”

Jade laughed sarcastically as she turned her focus back onto Emmy. “Emmy will be skiing,” she chuckled until she turned back to Ruby, placing the same dramatic pat on her shoulder with a shit-eating grin. “while you and I are scoping out.”

Ruby’s eyes widened as she held her hands up defensively. “There is no way I’m going back out in that stupid-ass weather.”

While Jade and Ruby bantered for a moment, Emmy grit her teeth, feeling the bubble of irritation as she gathers the girls’ attention. “You might not have a choice, we got company.”

Jade and Ruby turned their heads towards the concierge desk once more as they followed Emmy’s line of sight, suddenly noticing a familiar man checking into the lodge. Ruby’s features twisted uncomfortably as anger seeped through her being. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Jade felt exasperated, completely shocked that once again the annoying trio of men seemed to have found their way to the exact same location as them. “They're following us, I’m convinced.” She groaned as her eyes shifted toward a bellhop, suddenly noticing Jimin handsomely wrapped in a luxurious men’s winter coat. “And he’s not alone.”

Emmy instantly found Jimin handling their luggage as she frantically began scanning the area for Jungkook. She was trying to avoid him at all cost, yet it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to get him out of her mind. “We are not letting them fuck us over this time.” Emmy hissed, still scanning the lobby for any signs of the bane of her existence.

“Agreed.” Ruby and Jade spoke in unison as they turned back toward the fireplace, sinking into the couch in defeat from yet another unplanned encounter with the three stooges.

—

The atmosphere was cozy as Emmy settled into a tall leather stool lined along the edge of the bar with Ruby sitting beside her. Emmy adjusted the silk material of her short red dress, pulling the skirt down her thighs when it rode up. The bishop sleeves, stockings, and knee-high boots kept her warm from the crisp drafts that fluttered in from the occasional open door of the resort.

Ruby, on the other hand, spared no expense in making sure she was securely warm as she wore a cream-colored jumpsuit covered by a matching faux shadow fox coat. She held her gold clutch tightly against her torso, keeping her limbs together as she anxiously looked over the menu for a drink to warm her up.

“Which of these drinks will make me think I’m on the beach?” Ruby held the drink menu out to Emmy, looking for her opinion. Her usual drink choice would do little to keep her warm in these climates and if she was going to endure this torture, she was going to enjoy it the only way she knew how.

Emmy looked over the drink options, skimming the recipes that were in French. “Hm, I think I know what will do the trick.” She grinned, waiting for the bartender to come by before ordering two caribous.

“Don’t forget you need to stay focused, it’s bad enough the idiots are here. We can’t go empty-handed.” Emmy flinched as Jade scolded them through the earpiece.

“Alright, Mom,” Emmy said sarcastically, plucking the bud from her ear and sliding it towards Ruby. “Here, I don’t need to hear her while I’m trying to do my job.” Ruby gave her a funny look, tucking the device in her clutch without a word since she knew Jade wouldn’t realize Emmy pulled out the earbud while she was up in their suite.

Emmy glanced over the space of the bar, enjoying the homey but luxurious feeling of being surrounded by the rich cedar enhanced by the dark brown leather Chesterfield couches lining the far wall. She noticed Seoho sitting at one of the individual tables, his trench coat hanging off the back of his beige armchair. She dragged her gaze down the grey turtleneck sweater covering his lean torso.

His chair was placed just by the window overlooking the frigid environment surrounding the hotel, allowing him to keep his attention on the natural beauty of the glistening snow. He was relaxed, letting his arms rest along the chair as he crossed one leg over the other, his right ankle supported by his left knee. His focus was firmly fixated outside as he flawlessly reached for his whiskey glass, bringing the rim to his lips before tipping his head back and taking a large gulp.

Emmy felt her breath catch in her throat when he returned his dark stare out into the wilderness, an air of mystery in the depths of his dark irises. He gently ran the glass across his full lips, holding the whiskey with lithe fingers as if he were caressing the drink intimately. His being dripped with sex appeal that rivaled Jungkook’s. Seoho seemed like the type to map out the expanse of your body, discovering every shape and preference in your pleasure while Jungkook was the type to burn through you like a wildfire, leaving nothing untouched or singed from his flames.

Emmy was so captivated by the specimen of man before her that she hardly noticed the bartender had placed the drink she ordered in front of her until she heard Ruby snapping her fingers. The sound caught Seoho’s attention, his eyes snapping in her direction and locking with her own before she swiftly whipped back to her companion. “What?” She asked softly, trying to be discreet after getting caught staring at their target.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past five minutes.” Ruby expressed, looking annoyed as she held up her drink. “By the way, this shit is great.” She took another swig, letting the liquid heat up her body with the potent mixture of alcohol.

Emmy took a drink as well, cringing as she adjusted to the bite of the drink. “I was not looking at him that long.” She scoffed with a swift roll of her eyes.

Ruby didn’t respond, only making a face that clearly stated her sentiments as if she didn’t agree with Emmy’s argument. “Anyway…” She stole another sip of her drink, “What’s your plan?”

Emmy glanced back, noticing Seoho’s gaze flicker away from her figure. A smirk slipped over her lips as she turned back to her companion. “Oh, you know, the usual.” She stole another look at her target, catching his eyes moving out toward the wilderness again. “Flirt and conquer, my body is already doing most of the talking for me.”

The door leading to the outside opened and Ruby bristled as a draft swept over her. “Damn, it’s fucking cold. “ She hissed, glaring at the perpetrator who allowed the crisp air to infiltrate her warm serenity. She froze on the spot when she noticed a familiar face, gently swatting her hand against Emmy’s to get her attention. “Your body better start talking faster.”

Emmy turned to see Jimin slipping in quietly, unaware of their presence until he sat comfortably along the sofas at the back wall. He had a newspaper tucked under his arm that he pulled apart, his eyes flickering over the pages and scanning over the brim of the parchment to take in his surroundings. His eyes fell on the two female hustlers and smirked as Emmy noticed his lips move as if he was talking to someone.

“I swear if I see dumb and dumber, I’m gonna-” Emmy cut herself off as someone slipped into the seat beside her unannounced.

“You’re gonna do what, baby girl?” She became stiff as she slowly turned away from Ruby to see Jungkook smiling at her expectantly. She went to argue but stopped when the green and beige tartan shirt beneath his coat caught her attention. She was almost insulted by how great he looked in the pattern, distraught that he effortlessly dismantled her with his appearance alone.

Emmy heard Ruby address someone behind her. “Ugh, not you too.” The youngest member of the female trio whipped her head to see Taehyung had come up beside Ruby. She exhaled deeply, trying to keep her body relaxed as her mind spiraled, concluding that the two men snuck into the bar when Jimin distracted them from coming in through the cold.

“So let me guess, you’re just gonna sit here looking pretty until he comes over, offers you a drink, and falls for your usual honey trap. Is that right?” Jungkook mused, his proud smirk still plastered over his features as he eyed her figure up and down.

Emmy narrowed her eyes, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she fixed her glare on the belittling man next to her. “Like it’s hard. Men are almost too easy.” She smirked back.

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart.” Taehyung grabbed their attention as he leaned into Ruby’s proximity, his hand smoothing over her soft thighs. “Your trap doesn’t work if other bears are sniffing around.” Ruby slapped his hand away from her leg, cursing at him under her breath.

Taehyung only chuckled as he stole her nearly empty glass and finished her drink, intentionally dragging his tongue along the rim to trace the place where Ruby drank. “Fucking freak.” Ruby hissed, pushing the glass away when he placed it back down and hovered close.

Emmy tightened her jaw, realizing he was probably right. She stole a glance at Seoho and noticed he was no longer entertaining her as an option and needed to grab his attention again. She smacked her lips, turning back to the bar to reach for her caribou. “Guess I need to find better company.” She tipped her head back and downed the rest of her drink, letting the burn buzz through her system.

“Come on, baby girl. You know that’s not gonna work. Guys love the chase.” Jungkook chided, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

Emmy met his stare, “Is that why you still bother me even though I told you to fuck off?” Without another word, she slipped from the stool and slowly approached Seoho, methodically sweeping her hips side to side to accentuate her assets.

Jungkook poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, watching her walk away toward the target. When he saw her features light up when Seoho’s gaze found her own, Jungkook chewed on the flesh in irritation. He ignored Ruby and Taehyung bickering beside him as he watched Emmy’s every move.

She sat in the chair beside Seoho, reaching to touch his arm as she addressed the handsome multi-millionaire. Seoho, on the other hand, was completely eating her attention up. Jungkook noticed both parties subconsciously were turned toward each other, completely engaged in conversation. He couldn’t pick up any pieces of the conversation over the natural ambiance of the busy lounge.

He hoped his presence would keep her distracted from appealing to her target, but didn’t anticipate the moment she walked away Seoho would be crawling back for a taste. Jungkook scoffed to himself as Emmy seemed to become bashful, her cheeks tinting to a lovely hue that Jungkook had only seen after making her an absolute mess from his attention. He knew she had no interest in this man other than the money in his wallet, but it irked him to see her biting her lip with the blush lingering.

Seoho looked down at his phone, noticing the time and addressing Emmy once again. Emmy seemed receptive to whatever he was saying until she fluttered her eyelashes, that blush intensifying as she nodded her head. Seoho smiled, his eyes squinting under the pressure of his cheeks swelling and rose from his chair, collecting his coat. He reached for Emmy’s hand, lifting her dainty fingers to his lips to place a delicate kiss upon them.

“Ma belle,” Seoho said as he stepped away from Emmy.

Emmy felt her heart race as she followed his retreating figure out of the lounge with her gaze. She lightly pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart race rapidly in her chest as her nerves danced through her body. A smile gleamed over her face as she stood up from the chair, making her way back to the bar to share in her success. She was so caught up in Seoho’s mannerisms that she missed Ruby’s expectant stare and Jungkook’s sad attempt to look unbothered by watching their interaction.

“So, how’d it go?” Ruby finally asked, noticing an uncharacteristic smile on her friend's face.

Emmy finally snapped out of it, the charm of Seoho falling from her mind as she noticed everyone waiting to hear if she got the target. “He invited me to dinner tomorrow night.” Emmy had never been looking forward to a dinner date more in her life. She was instantly surprised to hold a conversation with the man in her native tongue, but he was also very humble and down to earth. He wasn’t a man who flaunted his wealth openly or treated women like a piece of meat.

Taehyung and Jungkook let their jaw drop as they realized Emmy already had the target under her thumb within only a few minutes. “How?” Jungkook’s features hardened as he looked at Emmy with scrutiny. He knew a guy would eagerly want the company of someone as beautiful as Emmy, but that seemed almost too easy. What exactly did they talk about?

Emmy smirked as she glanced at Jungkook, noticing his judgemental stare. “Try not to be jealous. Women are just better.” She winked, grabbing Ruby’s hand. “Let’s get back to the room and leave the men to drink their sorrows 'cause I’ve got this in the bag.” Her eyes flashed toward Jungkook again, looking smug. It was about time she paid him back for all his teasing remarks and reminded him why she was the face of their operation.

Jungkook felt that familiar pit in his stomach and didn’t like the slow churn as he watched the girls walk off. Something was different about this mission and he didn’t like that he seemed to lose his hold on Emmy with a single interaction with Seoho. He knew he needed to get in their way as much as possible.

—

The following morning while Ruby stayed in the warm comforts of her duvet, Jade and Emmy took a leisurely walk around the grounds, taking in the sights offered by the exclusive resort. As lunchtime soon approached, the pair made their way back to their suite with every intention of dragging Ruby out of bed to grab a bite to eat.

“So, did he mention where he was taking you?” Jade asked as her feet crunched against the thin layer of snow on the path toward the grand entrance. Coming back towards the hotel, she was reminded of their mission and was gathering intel for this evening.

Emmy hesitated, pursing her lips together in thought. “No, but I can’t imagine he’d go far. He told me to meet him in the lobby at 7.” She greeted some of the hotel staff as they passed by.

“So we’ll get Ruby ready, and head out for lunch. That should give you plenty of time to relax before you need to get ready.” Jade planned out as she glanced at the time on her phone before sliding the device back into her pocket.

Emmy went to respond until she spotted the squinting smile of Seoho across the lobby, standing near the staircase as he seemed to be chatting with another man. She nudged her friend, gesturing with her head towards his presence. “Hide, he shouldn’t see you.”

Jade quickly turned, trying to look inconspicuous as she found a display of pamphlets. “Whose he talking to?” She whispered, keeping her eyes on the variety of activities offered in the local area.

Emmy quickly whipped her phone out, pressing the screen to her ear like she was taking a call. “I don’t know. I can’t see their face.” The man wore a large insulated jacket and slacks, but with his face turned away the only thing Emmy could identify was his dark, slicked-back hair and slight undercut.

Seoho averted his eyes away from his company briefly, spotting Emmy in the distance, and locked eyes with her. He waved her over, looking eager by her presence. The man Seoho had been engaged with, slowly peaked over his shoulder and Emmy cursed when she saw it was Jungkook. She should have known.

“That asshole.” She hissed, still holding the phone to her ear and giving the illusion that she was trying to finish her conversation. “He’s talking to JK.” She informed her friend.

“How do they keep finding us?” Jade hissed with irritation. “I got rid of my phone. I make sure there’s not a trace of us.”

Emmy hummed, nodding her head almost dramatically like the figurative person on the phone was keeping her on too long. “I don’t know, but I gotta go. I’ll see you back in the room.” She finally pulled the device from her ear before sliding it back into her pocket as she swiftly made her way towards the two men.

“Emmy, it is so lovely to see you.” Seoho pushed past Jungkook, gently guiding her hand up to his lips for a sweet kiss.

Her gaze flicked to Jungkook’s momentarily to see him rolling his eyes before smiling back at Seoho. “Thank you. It is lovely to see you as well. How are you?”

Jungkook felt his jaw drop when he heard her speak French. When he heard Seoho speak to her, he didn’t imagine she would respond and certainly wasn’t ready for how sexy she sounded. He had to restrain himself from jumping her bones in the middle of the lobby. He was so blindsided, that he almost didn’t realize they continued their conversation and were completely ignoring him.

He waited a moment, watching Emmy giggle at what he could only assume was nonsense since he didn’t understand the language they were speaking. When Seoho had yet to turn around, Jungkook felt that pressure against his cheek as his frustration began to build. He cleared his throat, grabbing their attention.

“Ah, sorry! Emmy, this is -” Seoho went to introduce the man behind him, but Jungkook spotted an opportunity.

“JK, nice to meet you.” Jungkook stepped up, standing awfully close to Emmy as he placed himself in between them. He followed Seoho’s guidance by also grabbing a hold of her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. However, he did not bring her hand back down, but instead kept it in his palm, cradling it close to his chest. “Mr. Lee, I had no idea you had such beautiful company.”

Emmy slipped her hand from Jungkook’s, eyeing him suspiciously as he schmoozed her target. Seoho chuckled, “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.” He stepped away from Jungkook again, slipping an arm around Emmy’s waist.

Jungkook chewed his bottom lip, watching Emmy’s face flush from the attention. “It would seem so.” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he glanced between the pair, unnerved that they looked like a proper couple. He shook his head, fixing his demeanor as he refocused his objective. “So, will she be joining us?”

Emmy curled her brow, looking curiously towards Seoho. Joining them? What could he and Jungkook possibly be up to? Seoho brightened at Jungkook’s suggestion as he addressed Emmy. “Oh, we’re going to go snowboarding. Would you like to come?”

Emmy contemplated her approach, realizing that Jungkook was trying to weasel his way into stealing from Seoho. She needed to get close to her target and fast so that by the end of dinner there were no other hiccups in the plan. As a natural-born Canadian, winter sports were her specialty, but if she really wanted to play into Seoho’s kind nature she would have to dumb down her skills.

It took everything in her not to declare a competition with Jungkook as she displayed uncertainty. “I’ve never been, so I might not be very good.” Her large eyes bore into Seoho with a small pout.

“I will teach you, ma belle.” Seoho cooed, “Don’t worry.”

Jungkook chuckled to himself as he watched Seoho eat out of the palm of her hand, acting coy when deep down the multi-millionaire had no idea of the little viper hidden within. While Jungkook had the urge to kiss the stupid pout off her lips, he knew he would have plenty of opportunities to sabotage her advances and possibly redirect her attention onto himself. “This is gonna be fun.” He muttered, grinning as he fixated his stare on his pretty little klepto.

—

The enchanting melody of Emmy’s laughter rang in Jungkook’s ears as he bitterly clenched his teeth. With a slick roll of his eyes, he dropped his gaze upon Emmy after falling on her bottom with Seoho chuckling over her. Seoho reached down to offer her assistance and she happily accepted, her cheeks swelling from the large grin on her face. Jungkook continued to watch with disdain, his tongue breaking through the barrier of teeth to push against the inside of his cheek.

He was beyond agitated to see Emmy stealing Seoho’s attention with the clumsy and coy act, his nerves burning rapidly the longer he was forced to wait around for the pair to get their shit together. “Why don’t we catch a slope real quick and leave her down at the bottom to practice?” He suggested with every intention of keeping them apart to build Seoho’s trust as a comrade.

Seoho was working on helping Emmy to her feet, swiftly dusting the snow from her light blue, insulated coat, and soft pink toque. She noticed Seoho glance back at Jungkook as they had completely forgotten that he was there and seemed to be considering his idea. She knew she needed to step in before she got left behind. “Maybe you can hold my hand on the way down? I just need help balancing.”

Seoho seemed enthused by her proposal, bringing her in close with an arm curled around her waist. “I think that can be arranged.” He hummed softly as Emmy’s body effortlessly molded against his own, one of her hands coming up to rest against the thick material of his black jacket.

Jungkook cracked his jaw, tension building in his muscles. “Well, let’s get going then.” He huffed, impatience embedded in his being. He bristled when he was forced to remove his hands from the pockets of his white coat, forgetting to bring gloves in his process to sabotage Emmy’s chances with the multi-millionaire. He clambered in grabbing his snowboard and tucking it under his arm before shielding his fingers from the freezing air.

Emmy and Seoho looked toward the third wheel as he grumbled to himself. “Seems someone’s having a bad time.” She spoke in her native tongue, keeping the words between herself and Seoho.

Emmy pouted as Seoho stepped away, kneeling down to detach her boots from the board. “He’s only jealous because he does not have such a beautiful companion.” Seoho reassured her, glancing up at her with a charming smile while his gloved hands worked meticulously on her straps.

She bit her lip as his dark eyes looked up at her, his stare almost hungry. Heat returned to her cheeks, nearly making her lightheaded from the difference in temperature. Seoho broke away to look down at his work, allowing her the chance to spot a sulking Jungkook. She imagined that maybe he was being so difficult because he hated seeing her with someone as chivalrous as Seoho, but she quickly shook the thought from her head, keeping her goal in sight.

Her eyes flicked over Jungkook’s all-white attire, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips before she peered down at Seoho. “I sure hope he doesn’t get lost in the snow, we’d never find him.” The man at her feet slowly registered her joke, looking back at Jungkook to see what she was talking about before he slapped a hand to his mouth, smothering the laughter under his glove.

The male hustler would have been drooling over the smooth vocal inflections slipping from between Emmy’s soft lips, but he was already on edge with every touch shared between the couple. Jungkook was watching the whole exchange, only partially aware that they could be talking about him. When Seoho turned his head toward his direction and busted into a fit of laughter, Jungkook knew they were talking about him. “What’s so funny?” The smile on his lips was tight, hugging his enamel from the profound stretch across his face.

Emmy cleared her throat, stepping off the board when she felt Seoho nudge her leg. “Oh, nothing. It’s a Quebec thing.” She lied, peering over at Seoho to see if he would agree to her deceit.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’d understand,” Seoho added, standing upright with his board tucked under one arm and hers under the other. “Shall we go?” He cut in quickly before Jungkook could investigate further into their joke.

Jungkook glared at the two, following them as they walked past him in the direction of the chairlift. He grunted with frustration when they arrived at the revolving lift, only to see Seoho sitting at the edge of one while Emmy sat on the other end to make sure Jungkook had to wait for the next chair. She smiled triumphantly, waving to him as they pulled away. “See you at the top!” She hollered back.

The third wheel of their snowboarding excursion contemplated his next course of action as he impatiently drifted to the top of the mountain. He watched Seoho wrap his arm over Emmy’s shoulder, pulling her in close to his side with her bell-like laughter dancing in the wind. He desperately needed to get them away from each other for the sake of making a clean steal, and his sanity. He almost missed the breathtaking scenery on his way up while the pit in his belly simmered, nearly ready to boil over.

It was unsettling how irked he was by their proximity. Jungkook witnessed her seduce men before, but something felt different. Emmy seemed more susceptible to Seoho’s attentive charm, which developed almost too quickly for Jungkook’s liking. Emmy was always great at getting a man’s attention, having them eating from the palm of her hand. However, Seoho had the very same effect on her, and Jungkook did not like it.

As he reached the top of the slope, he noticed the pair waiting for him and choked as her blue irises sparkled in his direction. He could see the small pull against her lips, tucking into her cheek as she glared at him challengingly. The sunlight peaking over the mountains shined in her eyes, enhancing the color along with her light blue coat. After hopping off the chairlift, he felt out of breath, but he wasn’t sure if it was the density changes or how beautiful she looked.

Jungkook was able to shake himself out of it when Seoho interrupted yet again to get Emmy ready for her first trip down the slope. The agitation soon returned as she allowed Seoho to coddle her onto the board. Jungkook prepared himself beside them, crossing his arms over his chest while he waited for them to finish. This particular hill they were going down was mild compared to the other options, and Jungkook hoped they’d get a chance to run down one of the harder tracks to let out some aggression.

Once Seoho was finished getting them ready, he turned back to Jungkook. “Are you ready, JK?” He was standing close enough to Emmy so that she could hold onto his hands just as he promised.

Jungkook forced a smile on his face as if he wasn’t completely bored out of his mind. “Why don’t you two get a headstart?” He suggested, knowing Emmy would be milking this moment as much as possible to distract Seoho and gain his favor. Snowboarding after them gave him a clear view of what they were up to the whole way, allowing him to analyze an opportune moment to sabotage their natural chemistry.

There was no further communication as Seoho coaxed Emmy down the hill, taking their time to slide as she clung to him. Emmy couldn’t help but steal glances at the man supporting her, her heart fluttering at how genuine he seemed. There was a sense of endearment when she falsely fumbled, trying to get closer rather than the heavy lustful stares she received time and time again. Her pulse ran wildly when he smiled, his face illuminating as the swell of his cheeks overwhelmed his features.

Jungkook slowly shuffled his board, making sure to keep behind them despite the urge to leave them in his dust. He hated that he had to hold back, but even worse, he kept his smart mouth shut as he watched them ogle over each other for doing the bare minimum. He clicked his teeth against his lip piercing, the metal freezing as he teased it with a quick swipe of his tongue. He searched for an inconspicuous way to wedge himself in the middle of their little mush fest but huffed when he realized anything he did at the moment would be obvious.

He perked up when he noticed Seoho drifting her towards a small jump, aligning it so that she would be able to go over while Seoho stayed firmly on the snow-covered ground. The lightbulb sparked in Jungkook’s brain, and he adjusted his stance on the board to speed up and race toward the small ramp of snow. As he approached, he could vaguely hear Seoho telling her how to prepare for the jump while Emmy anxiously giggled like she was nervous about falling.

“Watch out!” Jungkook warned as he pivoted up the jump, successfully bumping into Emmy’s shoulder. He heard her shriek, imagining they would become a tangle of limbs, insulation, and laminated wood. However, to his surprise, he made it safely back to the ground and quickly snapped his attention behind him to see Seoho lying on top of Emmy.

Jungkook felt a stab in his chest, coming to a stop as he turned fully toward them. Emmy was panting beneath the handsome multi-millionaire who curled his arms protectively behind her head. Their lips were nearly touching, and everything about the scene screamed intimate as fire scourged through Jungkook’s veins. He panicked when he noticed their proximity growing smaller, their eyes drooping closed as Seoho cupped her cheek with his gloved hand. “Hey! Are you okay?”

Jungkook felt sick to his stomach when he thought they didn’t hear him until Seoho pulled away, easing his odd spout of nausea. He sighed with relief, waiting slightly downhill for them to join him. Emmy glared at him the entire way, communicating that she knew he did that on purpose. “Sorry!” Jungkook apologized not even trying to hide behind genuine concern as he nonchalantly addressed his “mistake.”

The rest of the way down, Jungkook kept to himself to avoid driving her further into Seoho’s arms with another failed attempt. He made sure to stay close, interrupting their conversations as he lingered off to the side or slid slowly behind them. His presence naturally killed the mood, and he couldn’t have been happier.

Back at the bottom, they took a small break to rest their limbs before trying another slope. Emmy gave her review of her first trip down the mountain, fluffing Seoho’s ego with compliments for his guidance while resisting the urge to chew into Jungkook for his collision.

Seoho glanced at the time, humming to himself for a moment. “It looks like we have time for one more. We should probably start heading back up now.” He mused, making sure to allot time for their return and preparing for a romantic dinner with Emmy.

Jungkook and Emmy did not argue, gathering their things and following Seoho’s lead towards the ski lift. However, just as they approached the mechanism there was a ring of someone’s cell phone. The trio paused, looking at each other expectantly since the noise was close by. Seoho sighed when he realized it was his device, pulling the source of din from his pocket to check the caller's identification.

Emmy noticed a flash of annoyance cross his features before he tore his glare away from the phone. “I’m so sorry, but I need to take this. Why don’t I just meet you there in a minute?” He smiled, lifting the device toward his ear and preparing to accept the call.

Emmy was almost stunned when Jungkook swept her away unapologetically, pulling her from Seoho. She glanced back, catching the millionaire turning away as he greeted the person on the other line. She finally adjusted to her circumstances, slipping from Jungkook. “You’re such an ass.” She hissed, stomping toward the chair lift as Jungkook’s laughter echoed from behind her.

They clambered onto the dual seat, holding their boards against the safety rails while the mechanism was in continuous motion. Emmy kept her gaze set on the forest surrounding them, breathing in the fresh air and admiring the spectacle nature provided. “So what’s your deal?” Jungkook asked.

She huffed with annoyance, swiveling her head in his direction, picking up the way he obnoxiously stretched across the lift and leaving her little to no space between them. “My deal?” She inquired, not understanding what he was referring to.

She watched as he adjusted himself, subconsciously pulling at his pant leg to pull the cool fabric from his thigh. “Yeah, you’re going around speaking French,” He paused, his eyes flickering away as he clicked his tongue against his piercing. Emmy hated how much the metal resting on his lip taunted her to kiss him and stop whatever stupid nonsense was coming out of his mouth. “Having little inside jokes,” He mocked, poorly mimicking Emmy with a flutter of his eyelashes and pretending to curl his finger in his hair. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you copying their accent. What are you trying to be, a queeb?”

Emmy pressed her lips together, debating whether it was worth correcting him or not. However, the slang hit a little too close to home and her need to dismantle his attempt at belittling her was far too strong. “For your information, I was born here and lived in Quebec until I was 18. My first language is French.”

Jungkook blinked, interest swirling behind his dark pupils. His expression of surprise morphed into his usual smug smirk. “Born here, huh?” He leaned back against the chairlift, ignoring the small jostle as the mechanism ran over one of the riblet towers. “Are you going to tell mommy and daddy about the rich millionaire you’re trying to steal from or are they not aware of your…behavior?” He made a point to look her up and down, silently judging how she uses her body as a tool against those who are being targeted by the femme fatales.

Emmy cringed when he mentioned the titles of people she barely knew, let alone recognized even if they were standing right in front of her. “I haven’t talked to them in years.” Her voice was oddly quiet, turning to face forward as distant memories slowly resurfaced with blurred images of what she could vaguely remember from her childhood. “So, no. They’re not aware.”

Her eyes return to the forest with a heavy heart, avoiding whatever Jungkook might say next. Her heart beat against her ribcage, anticipating some remark from the male hustler that enlightened him about her past. She half expected him to make a joke about her having “daddy issues” but she was happy for the silence. It assured her that maybe his past life wasn’t so spectacular either or at least that he understood it was a sensitive topic.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent between the two, Jungkook wordlessly grabbing their boards as his eyes met her own. Their gaze locked for a brief moment, their pupils drifting into the deep pools of each other until Jungkook looked away first. He moved toward the edge of the hill, waiting for Emmy to follow before plopping her board onto the ground. “Here, let me-”

“I can do it.” Emmy interrupted Jungkook’s offer to help with her boots. She swiftly stepped into place and strapped herself in effortlessly before Jungkook could finish his sentence.

Jungkook chuckled to himself in mild disbelief, he knew she was faking it, but he had no idea how much she was playing Seoho with her naive persona. “So, you have been playing dumb…I knew it!” He grinned, feeling oddly satisfied that he was aware of her mannerisms to know when she was being genuine or not.

Emmy scoffed, rolling her eyes at the joy across his face. “I’m Canadian. Of course, I know how to snowboard.”

“Then race me.” He suggested, eagerly smiling at her, hoping to poke at her competitive side.

Emmy curled a brow, looking him up and down. Part of her wanted to show him up and beat his ass on the slopes, but the more rational part of her said she needed to stay put until Seoho reunited with them. “No thanks.” She stated simply, shrugging as if she had not a single care to compete with the infuriating man in front of her.

Jungkook smirked, seeing right through her indifference. “What? Afraid to lose to me…again?”

Her head snapped toward him, fixing a glare in his direction. She bit her lip, keeping her aggravation at bay as she continued to be nonchalant. She needed to save her energy for Seoho. “No, I just don’t feel the need to waste my time.”

Jungkook was licked by the flames of irritation, finding her lack of reaction more bothersome than when she outwardly argued with him. “Waste your time?” He reiterated as if her words didn’t brand themselves into his hippocampus.

Emmy crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her hip to the side. “That’s what I said,” She concurred. “I’m here for Seoho, not you. I’m not playing your little games anymore and I’m certainly not going to bother fucking around with someone like you when I can easily have someone like him.”

Jungkook was taken aback by her dismissal, finding her rejection painful as he replayed the tiny interactions she shared with Seoho so openly in front of him. There was an unsettling churn in his stomach as his gut boiled over, pouring through his veins as he moved into her space. He noticed that his abrupt approach startled her for a moment until she readjusted her glare back onto him.

The heat behind their eyes would have melted the whole mountain as he grabbed her shoulders firmly in his hands, making sure she couldn’t look away from him. “You know what’s really fucking annoying?” He spat, leveling his eyes with her own. “You rather play pretend with some millionaire than be yourself with someone who thinks you’re perfect.”

Emmy felt her heart stop, her lips parting while Jungkook glared at her with the power of an unstable wildfire.

Perfect.

The organ in her chest seemed to pulse with the echo of that word pounding in her head. She was suddenly all too aware of how close he was to her lips, or how he held her firmly to keep her close rather than to inflict pain from his blatant frustration with her. Despite the frozen environment surrounding them, heat engulfed her as she glanced down at his lips, moving back up to search both of his eyes. “W-what did you say?” She managed, her breath drifting like small white clouds between their lips as she urged him to elaborate.

Jungkook’s blood ran cold as he registered what spilled from his lips. “I-I…” He was lost for words as he tried to escape his impulsive actions smoothly. He allowed his irrationality to take over and was now facing consequences he never anticipated dealing with. “Well, I-”

“Yes?” Emmy encouraged, wanting him to say it again and confirm she didn’t make it all up in her head.

Jungkook opened his mouth, his throat suddenly tight as the air density made it difficult to breathe under the pressure of his situation. “Sorry!” The voice didn’t match Jungkook’s, causing the pair to turn their head to see Seoho running up to them from the drop-off area of the chair lift. “I didn’t think it would take so long.” Seoho smiled, noticing that Jungkook and Emmy seemed close, but not acknowledging it.

Emmy felt cold when Jungkook released her, moving away from her so that Seoho could take his place. She glanced toward Jungkook hoping to get a read on what must be going through his head, but Seoho demanded her attention while guiding her to the beginning of the slope. She inhaled deeply, letting the odd mixture of confusion and disappointment get pushed aside to resume her pursuit of the multi-millionaire.

—

The grand scale of the lodge's vaulted ceilings and large glass windows reflected the snow flurries outside as the warmth of the inside ambiance cast a romantic setting for an evening dinner. Intimate tables of mahogany with lavish leather seating allowed couples to enjoy each other’s company while indulging in some of Montreal's finest cuisine.

Emmy and the handsome multi-millionaire were indulging in expensive house wines as the native French Canadian recommended ordering a duck a l’orange or a wood fire smoked steak. Seoho was putty in her hands, soaking up her beauty and foreign flare as they conversed in her native tongue, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Not too far from their corner table sat the mischievous male trio, each enjoying their own luxurious meal from the upscale dining experience as they stalked their wealthy target. Jimin seemed completely unbothered by the pair as he cut into a juice coq au vin, savoring the liquor-infused poultry as he brought the meat to his lips. Taehyung and Jungkook sat opposite of him, their positions offering them just the right angle to spy on the feisty brunette, watching her effortlessly seduce the man across from her.

While Taehyung seemed amused by her flirtatious gestures, Jungkook sat beside him with a heated glare burning through his pupils. He couldn’t help but let his eyes drink in the sight of Emmy’s leg scandalously peeking through the slit of her velvet gown, the terracotta color enhancing the glow of her skin beneath the dim lighting of the intimate dining room.

“I wonder what her body count is?” Taehyung’s playful voice instantly pulled Jungkook’s attention back onto his partners in crime, watching a smirk pull across Jimin’s lips as his face morphed into one of judgment.

“Well, she’s already slept with the two of you,” Jimin pointed out, bringing another bite of his truffled potatoes to his mouth before speaking once more. “Who knows how many men she’s screwed over in bed.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened as he pressed his teeth together, feeling the obnoxious churn in his stomach return as he imagined her following Seoho to bed. “Probably isn’t far off from yours.” Jungkook’s voice was harsher than he intended, thankful that his comrades didn’t notice the tension in his voice.

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders at Jungkook’s comment, knowing if there was anyone who came close to seducing as many people as Emmy, it was definitely him. Taehyung reached for his glass, noticing it was empty as he glanced around to spot the closest waitress. “Excuse me, miss.”

To the men's surprise, Ruby turned around to greet them, the false smile falling from her lips as she clicked her tongue in annoyance. “What do you want?”

Taehyung seemed far too excited to see the brawn of the female trio, leaning into his elbows as he waved around his empty glass of wine. “Would you be a doll and fetch Daddy a bottle of wine?” Taehyung shamelessly ran his tongue across his bottom lip, grinning proudly at Ruby’s disgusted snarl.

“Fuck off.” She spat as she turned around, prepared to completely disregard his request as the house manager walked through the space to check on their guests.

Taehyung repeatedly clicked his tongue in disapproval as he shook his head, “Such terrible service.” He grinned, watching that Jimin and Jungkook were just as amused as he waved down the manager. “Pardon, Monsieur!”

“Ruby!” Jade snapped in her earpiece, quickly catching onto the fact that they fully intended to complain about their service to the boss. Ruby groaned loudly as she turned back around, forcing a smile on her face as she walked back toward Taehyung who was still making eye contact with the manager.

“My apologies, sir.” Ruby grit between her teeth, leaning forward to grab his glass. “One glass of wine, coming right up.”

“Make that two,” Jimin smirked, holding up his own empty glass as Ruby fought back her urge to cuss them out.

Their table was suddenly greeted by a man in a suit, a French accent gracing his lips. “Good afternoon sir, is everything to your liking?” He seemed hesitant as he awaited Taehyung’s review. Taehyung leaned back in his seat, enjoying the surge of power he felt far too much.

“Everything is excellent.” He finally spoke, slicing the tension in half as he glanced up at Ruby, winking at her as she swiftly made her way to fetch their wine. “My compliments to the chef.” The man in formal attire nodded politely, satisfied with his customer’s comment as he urged them to enjoy the rest of their meal before continuing his rounds.

Jungkook’s attention flickered back toward Emmy and Seoho as the sound of her bright laughter echoed through the small space, his eyes narrowing in on her as she attempted to contain her giggles. Jungkook couldn’t help but feel the annoyance return as he thought back to their interaction on the ski slopes. One minute, he managed to falter her with his careless comment, and the next she seemed to completely forget about it, which only added to his frustrations. He was usually the one to have such an affect on her, and now he was forced to watch Seoho charm her mindlessly.

“I’ll be back.” Jungkook finally spoke, his resolve snapping as Seoho leaned into Emmy to whisper something into her ear. Jimin and Taehyung watched as their youngest counterpart suddenly stood to make his way toward the couple, confidence exuding in each step. “Lee Seoho, what a pleasure.” Jungkook unapologetically interrupted, greeting Seoho as he turned to face Emmy. “I see you’ve managed to enchant your beautiful company.”

Emmy felt her throat run dry, stunned to hear Jungkook refer to her as beautiful after calling her perfect just a few hours ago. Seoho smiled brightly, glancing back toward Emmy as he gently grabbed ahold of her hand, lifting it to his lips to place a swift kiss on the backside of her hand. “On the contrary, for it’s she who has enchanted me.”

Jungkook felt the urge to laugh at his corny response, however, the way Emmy’s eyes sparkled at the interaction distracted him too much. He noticed a spare chair at the table beside them, pulling the piece of furniture over as he plopped down directly between them. “Mind if I join you for a moment? There was something I was meaning to discuss with you.” He smiled charismatically as Seoho glanced toward Emmy who simply smiled brightly.

“Not at all. I was just heading to the ladies' room.” She fought the urge to smack Jungkook for once again interrupting but decided to continue her charming facade. “Will you excuse me a moment?” She glanced back toward Seoho, batting her eyes sweetly as he gestured for her to stand.

“Of course.”

Emmy flashed a glare toward Jungkook as she twisted her body to seek out the restrooms. She took slow steps, switching her hips as she walked, knowing that Seoho was most likely watching her strut away, admiring the curves of her body. What she didn’t notice was that Jungkook was also tempted to watch her, both men secretly fantasizing about her form. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” Seoho finally glanced back toward Jungkook who smiled childishly as he discussed another opportunity to ski down a black diamond trail.

Jimin and Taehyung were surprised to see Jungkook smoothly capture Seoho’s attention with the daring sport while Emmy finally reached the women’s room, groaning in her earpiece as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

“What the hell is he doing?” She snipped in her earpiece, hearing Jade’s voice on the opposite end.

“I don’t know. Ruby, what are they talking about?” Jade asked, a slight hint of concern laced in her voice.

Ruby moved to serve a table nearby, confirming their conversation. “They're talking about skiing.” Her voice was less than enthused as she continued to make her way through the intimate room. “And his goons seem far too satisfied with their meal.”

Emmy pressed her palms against the sink counter, adjusting her hair and making sure her makeup was still fresh on her complexion. “Jade, figure out a way to get them out of here.”

“Me?!” Jade protested as Ruby quickly joined in on the discussion once more.

“Unless you want to come serve these idiots, get your ass in here and figure something out.”

Jade let out a huff as she contemplated a way to cause enough of a distraction. Emmy smacked her lips together as she smoothed over a fresh layer of lipstick, stuffing the small tube back in her clutch as she took another glance into the bathroom mirror. “I’m not letting him get in the way again.” While her partners heard her words, she mostly spoke them to herself, refusing to let Jungkook get under her skin and take another victory away from her.

The youngest took a soothing breath before making her way back out toward her private table, noticing Jungkook and Seoho were still engaged in an intriguing conversation. She took her seat, smiling up at Seoho as he excitedly let her in on the information. “JK was just telling me about another trail. We might hit it up tomorrow before the end of my visit.”

Emmy clenched her teeth together, bringing her wine glass to her lips. “Sounds delightful.” She lied, taking a sizeable swig of the alcohol-infused concentrate.

“I can’t believe he managed to snake his way into their date.” Jimin shook his head in surprise, impressed by his comrade's ability to charm their targets.

Taehyung finished the last bite of his meal, leaning back in his chair to let his stomach stretch out from the large amount of food he indulged in. “He’s a little shit, but he gets the job done,” Taehyung adds playfully, exchanging a satisfied smile with Jimin as they grabbed their wine glasses. “To another hopeful victory.”

Just as Jimin was going to clink his glass together with Taehyung’s, he felt a sharp sting across his cheek, glancing up frantically to see Jade standing before him in hysterics. “What the…”

“How dare you!” She continued, threatening to smack him again as Jimin quickly seized the opportunity to snatch her wrist.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His eyes were wide as Jade channeled her inner Emmy, pulling out her dramatics.

She began to cry, drawing the attention of a few tables beside them. “I knew you were cheating on me, but I didn’t know you were gay!”

Taehyung practically choked on his wine as Jade gestured toward him, her accusations accompanied by gasps from neighboring tables. Taehyung felt his cheeks flash red in embarrassment, suddenly looking at their table, realizing to an unsuspecting person they sure looked like they’d be on a date.

“I’m not gay!” Jimin quickly retaliated as Jade let out a loud wail of sorrow. Jimin felt his body become tense in anger as he gripped her wrist tightly, his eye flashing red with wrath. “Can I speak to you a moment, privately?” He grit between his teeth, trying not to draw more attention to them as he stood from his chair, practically dragging Jade off behind him.

It wasn’t until they were finally in the hallway that Jimin released her wrist, pushing her up against the wall as his irritation boiled over. “What the hell were you thinking?” He smacked his hand against the wall beside her head, causing her to flinch for a moment as she glared up at him.

“What’s wrong? I figured since you clearly aren’t concerned with ruining someone’s date, I might as well ruin yours.” Jade couldn’t help but grin between each word as Jimin pressed forward, trying to intimidate her until they heard the door of the lounge open.

Jimin quickly stepped away from her as a bystander glared in his direction, making him feel even more uncomfortable than he already felt. “This isn’t over.” He threatened back toward Jade who instantly began fake crying again as the witness continued to stare at Jimin as if he was a terrible human being. “And cut the bullshit.”

Meanwhile, Emmy’s table seemed to be distracted by the commotion until Jungkook suddenly stood from his seat with the sound of glass breaking beside him. Ruby was inches away with a now empty tray, wine spilling all over Jungkook’s trousers as the chilled liquid seeped through his clothing. “Shit.”

“I’m so sorry, monsieur.” Ruby falsely apologized as Emmy bit her lip, desperately attempting to contain her laughter. Jungkook seemed as flustered as Jimin while Ruby attempted to wipe his pants with her towel, shooing her away as he noticed Seoho’s attention directly on the situation.

He chewed on his lip piercing as he kept his cool. “An accident, of course.” He hissed through his teeth, knowing it was clearly no accident. He took a cloth napkin from the table, wiping away any reminisce of the liquid from his pants, annoyed to see the fabric was now stained. “I should go get cleaned up. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Seoho was quick to stand and politely say goodbye to Jungkook, confirming their plans before telling Ruby to get something to clean up the mess. Jungkook found Emmy’s glare once more, burning through her resolve with his fiery stare before turning to dismiss himself, the girls suddenly feeling proud of their chaotic distractions.

Emmy respectfully called after Jungkook, waving him off as she turned her attention back to Seoho. A few staff members bustled to clean up the spilled wine as Seoho signed their receipt to have their meal charged to his room. Emmy simply brought her glass to her lips, watching the scene unfold as Seoho stood beside her.

“How about a stroll, ma belle? To finish the evening?” He offered as he held out his hand. Emmy’s smile reflected in her pupils as she politely accepted his hand.

“That would be wonderful.” She beamed, thrilled for another opportunity to get close to her target and enchanting date. “I have to admit.” She continued on, placing a playful pout on her lips as she stood up from her seat. “I was hoping for the chance to see you again tomorrow.”

Seoho’s charming smile stretched across his lips as began guiding her out of the small dining room. “I’m sure I can arrange that.” He maneuvered himself beside her, snaking his arm around her waist as they retrieved their coats from the hostess. “How about ice skating tomorrow night?”

Emmy contemplated his proposal, bitter that he was still entertaining his morning skiing with Jungkook. She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, leaning her hip into him as he retrieved her coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Sounds perfect.”

—

“Breakfast is ready!” Jade announced, moving out of the way for their dining cart to roll into their suite. The server pushed the collection of breakfast foods into the middle of the living room space, placing it at the end of the dining table. Jade slipped him a small tip, leading him back out the door as Ruby started sniffing at the food hidden beneath the silver plate lid on the large platter.

Emmy was in the bathroom, taking a thorough shower in anticipation of her date with Seoho. “Why’d you say it like you made?” Ruby pulled off the giant lid, spotting her plate of pancakes and bacon before shooting Jade a judgemental side-eye.

Jade swooped in, grabbing her plate of eggs, sausage, and toast with a side of maple syrup to sweeten her savory meal. “Technically, I ordered it so…yeah. Sorry, not sorry.” She quickly dashed off towards the sofa, curling her feet underneath her as she leaned against the arm of the couch, balancing her plate in her hand.

Ruby shook her head, getting comfortable at the table with every intention of drowning her plate in syrup. “Hey,” She called out to Jade softly, hoping Emmy wouldn’t hear them under the stream of her shower. “Do you think we need to come up with a plan B?”

Jade curled her brow, pausing after already stabbing into the yolk of her egg. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just this is our last chance before our window closes. What if we lose again?” Ruby subconsciously poured syrup over her stack, her eyes flicking between the amber liquid and Jade’s thoughtful expression.

Jade contemplated their predicament, feeling her instincts screaming at her that Ruby was only suggesting a proper backup in case all else failed, but she tried to stay positive. “Don't worry, this guy has already taken the bait. Emmy is gonna reel him in and we’ll all reap the benefits.”

Ruby hummed, pursing her lips together as she glanced toward the closed door of the bathroom where Emmy was located. “I guess so.” She paused when she heard the shower turn off and the harsh raking of the hooks dragging across the curtain rod. “It just feels different.” She added, quickly dropping her concern onto Jade’s lap before cutting into her pancakes.

Before Jade could dig further into Ruby’s comment, the bathroom door opened to reveal Emmy wrapped up in a white cotton robe, soaking up the dew from her skin as her hair was wrapped up in another smaller towel. “It smells so good.” Emmy commented, her eyes falling on Ruby’s plate that needed disaster relief. She chuckled as she grabbed her plate with a little bit of everything on it, joining Ruby at the table and making sure to face Jade.

“Oh, by the way, nice job chasing the guys away.” Emmy complimented, looking at their intellectual counterpart. Jade snapped her head up, pausing mid-chew with a piece of egg in her mouth. She made a noise of acknowledgment, but Emmy continued. “I didn’t know you had it in you to make such a scene.”

Ruby laughed beside her, covering her mouth to hide the fact they thought the spectacle was hilarious. Jade swallowed the egg down her throat, clearing the remnants that lingered on her tongue. “Well, I just thought what would Emmy do and went with it.” Ruby’s laughter turned into a cackle at the back-handed compliment while Emmy narrowed her eyes at the oldest.

“Haha.” She stabbed into her slice of bacon before lifting it to her lips to steal a bite, gnawing at the meat with her canines harshly.

The girls ate in silence as Ruby settled her fit of giggles, choking down another bit of pancake before she decided to discuss their plans. “Anyway, what are you doing with Seoho today?”

Emmy paused, biting her lip as she thought of the handsome gentleman with the all-encompassing smile. “He’s taking me ice skating.” She mumbled before shoveling more food into her food to distract from the blush that slowly invaded her complexion.

Jade noticed the suddenly bashful Emmy and made a teasing oooo sound with Ruby joining in for the fun of it. “Don’t tell me you're getting soft on us.” Ruby added like a cherry on top.

“No, don’t be ridiculous.” Emmy dismissed, waving off the pink hue on her cheeks. “He’s just really sweet, that’s all.” She couldn’t help but admit as she thought about how charismatic and down-to-earth he was.

“Maybe we should ask if he wants three sugar babies and we can have unlimited spending money.” Ruby suggested, continuing to cut her stack of pancakes into uneven bites.

Emmy nearly cried watching the chaos unfold on her plate and Jade laughed out loud. “Yeah right. Between your drinking “habit” and Emmy’s maintenance routine, he’d be drained dry within a month.” Jade put quotation marks around the reference to Ruby’s daily alcohol consumption. The girls were all aware that she drank the burning substance like water, but luckily, she always managed to stay coherent in most situations.

“Oh, don’t you even start. I’ve seen how much you spend on food, my little gourmet glutton.” Emmy snapped back, calling Jade out for indulgent and expensive eating habits. Ruby nodded in agreement, eyeing the plate of protein on the oldest’s lap.

Jade waved her hand as if she were shooing them away. “Whatever, I do what I want.” She said defensively, unapologetic for her spending habits. “So, what do you plan on wearing?” She narrowly changed the subject trying to keep them focused on the task at hand.

Emmy quickly clambered out of the chair and raced to her bedroom, pulling off the outfit she laid out before she jumped into the shower. “What do you think?” She displayed it against her frame, only showing off the layers that would be hidden underneath a large faux fur coat.

“Won’t you be cold?” Ruby nearly choked at the thin fabric that made up her outfit.

“I’ll have a jacket obviously, but once we settle somewhere a little more private, this is what he’ll see.” Emmy seemed proud of herself as she imagined his eyes bulging from his sockets when she revealed the form-fitting outfit that showed off her legs that she hoped would be wrapped around his waist later that evening.

“I’m sure he’ll be drooling on the floor.” Jade encouraged, noticing the genuine smile and giddiness in each step Emmy took on her way to place the outfit back in her room. She shared a knowing look with Ruby from across the room before Emmy returned. She waited as the youngest member got comfy in her seat, “Hey, are you sure you can do this?” Jade asked, trying not to show that she had any doubt in Emmy’s capabilities.

Emmy seemed to shake out of her excitement, noticing her partners looking at her expectantly. “Yeah, trust me. I have him completely wrapped around my finger and we’ll be gone before tomorrow morning.” She ignored the slight tick in her smile as she assured the girls of her confidence, knowing their success depended on her. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the subtle frown from pulling at her lips as she poked the prongs of her fork against the syrup-soaked pancakes.

—

A brisk wind rushed by, seeping the touch of ice through Emmy’s layers. She adjusted her little blue coat around her torso, hugging the fabric tighter to smother her body heat. Seoho chuckled beside her, pulling her in close as he reached for her hand. “Here, allow me.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her forward as he cradled her palm within his other hand.

Emmy allowed him to manipulate her body, his directions so gentle and nurturing that even his gestures warmed her up. She moved her legs, gliding across the ice as the cable knit of her light blue stockings flexed with every movement. “I know how to skate, you know.” She offered, her tone soft so that she didn’t offend his intimate nature.

“Yes, but you seemed cold.” He offered, slowly slipping away.

Emmy grabbed him, bringing him back so that he continued holding her in his embrace. “I think I still am.” She lied, feeling the heat swell within her chest as his large smile overtook his features. She found the way his eyes closed endearing whenever he seemed excited or bashful. As she leaned into him, she couldn’t help but be perfectly aware of his fingers teasing the sequins of her silver skirt that accentuated the light blue ensemble.

She stole this opportunity to enjoy her surroundings, skating over the ice with the assistance of Seoho while passing by the small village they had walked through just the previous evening. During the day, the white-painted shops and little red roofs were vibrant with life under the beaming sun. Layers of snow were scattered amongst the tops of every surface, decorating the scene in a natural winter scheme. During their stay, Emmy felt a combination of emotions as she thought of her life before she met Jade and Ruby, but tried to stay in the moment and thrive in the memories of the places she visited rather than the people she knew.

“Excuse me!” Someone shouted, causing Emmy to jolt back into the present as a young teenager sped in front of them. Seoho was able to stop them just in time before they collided with the adolescent, nearly tumbling backward when he yanked Emmy against his frame. When he braced for impact, he naturally curled his arms around the woman, bringing her to face him where their skates were knocking into each other.

Luckily, he managed to catch himself and looked sheepishly at Emmy who seemed startled by the abrasive course of action. “Sorry.” They stood still amongst the rink, looking into each other’s eyes, the tension slowly dwindling the longer they stood facing each other.

Emmy blinked, the spell broken as she smiled up at him. “Something tells me you’re not that sorry.” She boldly slipped her arms around his neck, drawing him in close until his lips were level with her own. Her heart pounded in her chest when his eyes flicked across her face, taking in every detail and watching his pupils enlarge.

Seoho’s eyelids dropped, feeling heavy as he returned her gaze. Their breath began to mingle as he leaned in, his arms curled around her snugly. “You might be right.” His lips brushed against her own, nearly pressing them together until a fit of giggling children skated by and interrupted the mood. He pulled back abruptly, looking at their surroundings as if he had forgotten they were in the middle of a skating rink. “How about we get something to eat?”

Emmy pouted as the cool air swirled over her face, craving the taste of Seoho’s lips over anything that the village of small shops had to offer. She bit her lip, falling back into a slow glide beside him as they made their way towards the exit. She peered over towards Seoho, trying to read his expression, and noticed the hungry look in his eyes still lingering. She chewed the inside of her cheek with anticipation, wondering how soon she could bring him to his primal instincts.

She coyly moved her pupils in the opposite direction, spotting a small poutine cafe. She salivated at the thought of the comfort food she grew up with and turned to look at Seoho, “Do you like poutine?”

Seoho turned his head, keeping his gaze down to avoid skating into someone. “I’ve never tried it.”

Emmy gasped, moving her feet faster to race to the exit. “Well, let’s go then!” She squealed in excitement, eager to get a serving of a long-forgotten pastime.

Seoho chuckled at her mannerisms, noticing she was like a child in a candy store. He reached out for her, slowing her stride down slightly as he threaded his fingers through her own. “Don’t leave without me, ma belle.”

Emmy nearly swooned as he used his term of endearment for her, slowing down as they approached the threshold for the skating rink. She bit her lip when he swooped in front of her, stepping onto the stable ground with the blades of his skates before helping her across. As she stepped close beside him, she continued to hold his hand and stood on the tip toes of her skates to place a kiss on his cheek.

The moment was swift, but the dumbstruck look on his face was more than worth it. Emmy settled with her victory before stepping towards the benches to take her skates off while Seoho seemed to collect himself.

After returning their skates and adjusting back into their boots, the pair made their way to the cafe Emmy had been eyeing. Seoho held the door open while Emmy stepped inside getting draped in the warmth and rich, savory scents of cooked food. The cafe wasn’t particularly big, but it was bustling with customers waiting in line to grab a basket which made it fairly easy to walk with. There were a few barstools along the wall leading to the counter and a handful of small tables that could seat up to four people.

Seoho came up behind Emmy, lightly placing his hand on her back. “Why don’t you find a seat and I can get it?” He offered, noticing the line was going to be a decent wait.

“No, I’ll get it. Especially since you never had it before.” Emmy smiled back at him, insisting she treat him. She nearly screamed at herself when she realized that she should be making him pay, he was the target of their hustle after all.

Seoho smirked, finding her determination amusing before fishing out his wallet and pulling his card out. He placed it gingerly in her hand, pulling away so that she could not return it. “Put it on my card at least.” He suggested. He brought the hand that was resting on the small of her back up to pull her hair off her shoulder, dipping down to brush his lips across her cheek. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Emmy felt as if her whole body stopped functioning as he left her in shambles; her heart stopped working, she couldn’t breathe, and every muscle in her body was frozen. Her sparkling irises followed him as he moved to a table by the large windows facing the front of the establishment, sitting with the same magnetism he had when she first encountered him.

His sharp eyes found hers and she snapped out of her daze, a harsh blush slapping over her cheeks as she quickly shielded herself from his calculating gaze. She moved with the line as another customer successfully received their order, biting her lip as she tried settling her nerves. She took the opportunity to take out her phone, texting her friends with an update to help ground her from the treacherous emotions swirling within her. “I’m in trouble.” She mumbled to herself, her heart still dancing wildly in her chest.

Every time she was with him, it was like she completely forgot about what her goal was. She wasn’t sure why he was like kryptonite, but she couldn’t say this experience was frustrating in the least. She glanced down at the card he had given her, thinking that she could simply run with it and have her victory right then and there. It could have been possibly the easiest steal of her life, but she hesitated. Not only because they were in broad daylight and she could easily be caught, but because she didn’t want the date to end.

Seoho had been one of the few men to actually treat her with any ounce of decency and Emmy could honestly say it was refreshing. He didn’t try to sleep with her at every turn or treat her like some piece of decoration on his arm, he was intrigued by her presence and very attentive to her needs. She glanced back at him as the line moved up again, wondering how she was going to deal with the guilt of fucking him over by the end of the night.

She pursed her lips together as the guilt set it, trying to think of something else that would distract her from potentially sabotaging the mission. They already lost to the guys, they couldn’t have another loss on their hands. Emmy nearly groaned as Jungkook’s face mocked her in the back of her head, the reminder that he was just on her coat tail with gaining Seoho’s trust considering they had just gone skiing this morning.

You rather play pretend with some millionaire than be yourself with someone who thinks you’re perfect. She vividly replayed that moment in her head, wondering if she heard him wrong. He seemed so frustrated and genuine when he spit the words from his mouth, but Emmy had yet to see his behavior change to make her think it was anything more than just another little game of his.

“Hello, what can I get you?” The sweet voice of a middle-aged woman disturbed Emmy from her thoughts, realizing that she traveled to the front of the line and it was her turn to order.

Emmy quickly scanned the menu, embarrassed that she wasn’t more prepared and instead thinking of the bane of her existence even though she was on a date with a complete gentleman. She then placed her order, making sure to get enough for both of them before stepping aside to wait for her portions. She watched intently as they poured the seasoning and gravy over the small baskets of fries sprinkled with cheese curds, eager to dig into the dish once she sat down with Seoho.

They shortly offered her the baskets of food, gesturing towards the utensils and napkins for them to use. Emmy hurried to grab the tools she needed before scurrying to the small table Seoho claimed. “Here you go.” She said, placing the food on the surface prior to handing him back the card.

Seoho’s eyes were wide as he looked at the meal before him, slipping his credit card back into his wallet without tearing his eyes away. “This looks delicious.” He moved his gaze towards Emmy, noticing her sitting across from him at the table. “Sit here.” He quickly pushed the seat out adjacent to him, allowing her to sit closer to him.

Emmy happily placed herself by his side, grabbing the forks and offering him one. “You should try it first.” She waved the fork in his direction, her teeth shining in the natural sunlight that beamed through the glass window. She held her breath as Seoho took the utensil from her, eyeing his first bite for the most covered morsels in his platter. He finally stabbed his fork into a covered fry, making sure to stab at a cheese curd like a small kabob on the prongs.

He parted his lips, placing the food on his tongue before chewing, letting his expression do most of the talking while Emmy watched. The tension was high as she noticed his brows furrowed and he chewed slowly, taking in every flavor as he went. She relaxed when she heard the satisfying hum in the back of his throat, nodding his head as he stabbed into another piece. “Very good.” He uttered between a small seam in his lips as he finished up his first bite.

Emmy felt giddy as she grabbed her fork, looking for her first bite until Seoho placed his hand over her own, keeping her utensil down. She curled her brow over her forehead, turning to look at him in confusion. “Is something wrong?”

She was startled by how softly he looked at her, cherishing her like she was a work of art worthy of such admiration. “Well, I thought maybe since it was my first time eating poutine, I could make this time special for you.”

“Oh?”

Seoho continued to hold her hand as he scanned his smothered fries for another worthy piece. Once he found it, he offered it to Emmy at the end of his fork. “This could be the first time you eat it served by me.” He almost said it like a question, almost as if the idea was silly, but Emmy found his sudden shyness charming.

Without any response, Emmy felt her lips pull at the corner as she leaned into him, guiding her mouth towards the food hanging off his fork. Seoho met her halfway, gently slipping the bite past her lips until they closed around the portion he offered her. Emmy blushed as he focused his gaze on her lips, watching her chew and savor the taste that reminded her of home.

She moaned to herself in enjoyment, ready to dig in and demolish the rest on her plate but stopped when his hand curled under her chin, his thumb swiping the corner of her mouth. He quickly pulled away, teasing his tongue against the pad of his thumb to collect whatever remnants were on her face. “You had some gravy.” He mentioned, smiling as he realized what he had just done.

Emmy bit her lip to keep from giggling as he looked down, suddenly enamored with the dish as the tips of his ears became red. Without another word, she started to dig into her own meal her heart thrumming against her ribcage as the heat of her emotions overwhelmed her beyond that of the warm food and atmosphere.

Their time eating had gone silent as they picked apart the poutine, and slowly reached the bottom of the serving basket with every bite. Seoho glanced outside, noticing the sun start to make its way down from its peak. He cleared his throat, grabbing Emmy’s attention. “I was wondering if you would like to join me back at my cabin tonight?”

Emmy’s interest was piqued, her heart racing ever faster at the implications of his proposal. She subconsciously licked her lips as if she had a drop of gravy on them. She hesitated, knowing this was the moment she’d been waiting for. However, it was also the moment this charade of leading a normal, romantic life would be over. She looked at the man sitting beside her, finding him tense with anticipation as if she would reject him at any moment. Despite the pout pulling at her lips, she forced a soft smile over her face. “I would love to.”

Seoho’s cheeks swelled against his eyes, causing her heart to drop as she imagined what he would look like when he realized she was only using him. She suddenly found she wasn’t hungry anymore and pushed the rest of her delicious poutine away. “I’m full.” Seoho seemed none the wiser to the change in her demeanor as he finished up the rest of his meal.

The walk back up to the main resort was filled with light chatter, but Emmy found herself lost in thought as they turned off toward the private cabins. Her stomach churned with an odd mix of emotions. Being with Seoho was fulfilling in a way, therapeutic almost.

He was a rare specimen that treated her better than she ever dreamed a man could. No one in her life really made her feel normal, but with him, it was the closest she ever felt and despite all the excitement of hustling, she was fond of the ease that came with doing the mundane. However, she wanted to prove that she could overcome these emotional obstacles and get a win against the guys. She couldn’t let her girls down.

Then a small part of her kept playing her interaction with Jungkook infuriatingly calling her out on the top of a ski slope. Even if there was a future to be had with a man like Seoho, there’s no telling that he would like her as she truly was. She created a more timid version of herself, appealing to his more doting personality that seemed to want to cater to her and treat her like a princess. Not that she can really complain, but yet again, Jungkook was right.

“Are you alright, ma belle?” Seoho’s voice brought her back. Realizing they were walking down the path along the large lake overlooked by the resort’s property. She admired the expanse of the frozen surface, a world covered in white as even the tree tops were covered in snow.

She finally turned to Seoho, noticing his concerned expression. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She shook herself out of her overthinking mind and curled her arm through his own, bundling up into his warmth. “Are we almost there?”

Seoho relaxed when she cuddled against his frame, flicking his attention up ahead to see where his cabin was located along the path. “It should be the next one.” Their feet crunched the snow-covered ground, the colors of the sky painted across the ice in darkening pastels with the setting sun.

Emmy noticed a sparse line of lampposts following the path as they suddenly switched on as the evening progressed. She then spotted a small chalet not too far from the lake that she could only assume was the cabin he rented for his stay. It had large windows facing toward the speculator view of the winter scene and had enough distance from the other neighboring cabins for plenty of privacy.

Emmy was eager to get inside, getting a break from the cold and becoming toasty with Seoho. He moved up the short set of stairs leading to the entrance and quickly opened it, allowing Emmy into the warmth first. She shuddered from the difference in temperature as Seoho slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

The space was mostly dark except for a light he left on by the entrance and the dim sunshine that peeked in. “Wait, right here.” He said, moving around her to turn on some more lights. Emmy was pleased to see the cozy loft, from the dark leather furniture accentuating the wood of the cabin structure and the stone fireplace beside the quaint kitchen area. “That’s better.”

Emmy stood patiently waiting to see where he wanted her to sit, surprised when he came over to help her out of her coat. He paused when he noticed her form-fitting long-sleeve shirt underneath, eyeing her frame up and down completely now that the bulky coat was off her shoulders. He placed the article on the hanger, his attention undivided as he offered her to pick a seat in the living room.

Emmy kicked into gear, swishing her hips side to side until she perched herself on his couch. She crossed one leg over the other, allowing her skirt to ride up along her thigh and exposing more of the stocking that covered her legs. Seoho removed his jacket, showing off the crisp clean white button-down he had hidden underneath. She nearly jumped when he started rolling up the sleeves, watching the muscles of his forearm. “Are you thirsty?”

“Huh?” Emmy felt like she was caught red-handed checking him out, heat rising to her cheeks as he seemed to smile to himself.

“I asked if you were thirsty. I have some wine.” He offered, switching to the other cuff and rolling that up his arm. He slowly moved toward the kitchen, waiting for Emmy’s response.

She smoothed out her skirt, pulling the fabric down as she swallowed her spike of nerves. “Yeah, that sounds good.” She smiled at him, glancing at him as he went into the kitchen to grab two glasses. She waited until he seemed distracted before pulling her phone out and texting the girls. However, when she opened the device, she noticed there was no reception at their location. “Shit.” She cursed under her breath, slipping the phone away.

Seoho appeared shortly with a bucket filled with ice, the bottle tucked securely in the cubes and two glasses threaded through his fingers. He placed them on the coffee table before lowering himself to sit beside Emmy, knocking his knee against her leg. “Sorry.”

Emmy giggled, “It’s okay.” She anxiously fiddled with the hem of her skirt as he popped the cork off the bottle. He then poured them each a glass, filling them with a rich cabernet. After both were poured, he dunked the bottle back in the bucket of ice and handed one of the stemmed glasses to Emmy.

“Should we make a toast?” He proposed, opening up the air for any suggestions. Emmy could see by the intent look in his eye that whatever she said next would set the path for the rest of the evening. This was her opportunity to get him vulnerable and make her grab before she dashed back to the girls for a quick getaway.

Emmy fell into character, pulling on her most seductive mannerisms as she twirled the liquid in her cup nearly tracing the rim against her lips. “A simple cheers will do, don’t you think?” She leaned into him, her eyes dropping low before traveling back up to meet those piercing dark irises. “I think I’m tired of talking.” With that note, she tipped the glass against her lips, taking a sip as she tilted her head back.

Seoho instantly picked on her innuendo, taking a gulp of his wine as he relished the way she slowly swallowed her wine down. After finishing every drop, she placed the wine glass on the coffee table and noticed Seoho looking at her with lust set in his features. He moved his glass out of the way, scooting in closer to her as he cradled her face within his hands, his thumb finding its way back to the corner of her mouth. “What is it this time? Wine?” She asked, her voice changing into a purr as she nuzzled into his warm palms.

“No,” He whispered, leaning in close so that their lips brushed. “I just want to touch you.” He moved forward encasing her lips with his own, feeling her shiver beneath his hold.

Emmy moaned as she closed her eyes, getting drunk off the plush feeling of his pillowy lips against hers. She was amazed by how gentle his kiss was, yet so demanding as his tongue prodded against the seam. She teased him, not allowing him to deepen the kiss as she slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her.

Seoho moved one of his hands down her side, gripping firmly at her figure as his fingers traced along the curve of her spine and his thumb grazed the peak of her breast. The same hand continued to conquer her body until it mapped the expanse of her thigh and manipulated the crook of her knee so that her leg curled around his waist. He laid her down along the sofa hovering above her as the other hand cradling her cheek slid down to gently grip her throat. “Open up for me.” He softly commanded, pulling away from her intoxicating lips to catch his breath.

He nuzzled his nose across her features, calming himself down as she panted beneath him. When he found that the air was properly circulating through his lungs, he sealed his lips back over hers. Her moan vibrated against his palm as he held her throat, keeping her from evading his kiss.

Emmy felt his tongue come knocking at her lips for entrance and giggled as she continued making him chase her. His hips retaliated against her with her refusal. He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth as he grew impatient, the bulge in his pants serving as a reminder of the sexual tension coursing through his veins. Emmy finally gave in when he pulled her lip with his teeth, stretching the skin just enough to get her attention and have her chasing after his kiss.

“I want you.” She managed, pulling him back and allowing him to slip his tongue between her lips. She felt his hand around her throat tighten but only acknowledged the rush of blood in her ears from the sensation as her senses were overloaded.

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain on the side of her neck where he wasn’t holding her. She quickly pushed him away, opening her eyes to find that he had a syringe in his hand and a cruel smile on his face. She pressed her hand against the wound, noticing the syringe was completely empty. She felt cold as ice as fear struck her. “Why did you do that? What is that?” She managed before crawling away from him, unnerved by this sinister grin she had never seen from the man before.

He didn’t answer, only chuckling as she backed away towards the door. When he stood up, she grabbed the win bottle from the bucket ready to use it as a weapon if he got any closer. “Are you scared? That only makes the drug work faster.”

Emmy could feel her heart racing, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from trying to leave. She felt her back collide with the wall adjacent to the entrance ready to make an exit, but when her hand went to grab the handle, it flopped against the cool metal instead. “Fuck.” She muttered, trying again only unable to use the function of her hand. She felt her leg muscles get weak as she slowly slid to the floor, her arms no longer lifting up or supporting her from falling towards the ground. There was the sound of breaking glass as the wine bottle cracked against the floor, shattering to pieces while she crumbled to the ground. As her world became blurry, the last thing she heard was the chilling laughter of Seoho before she was left helpless in darkness.

—

Jade’s eyes skimmed the screen of her phone, chewing on the inside of her cheek nervously as she anticipated a message from their youngest as the numbers on her screen shifted to read four o'clock in the morning. It was highly unusual for Emmy to go such a long time without updating her teammates on her progress, even if she did get sidetracked by bringing one of their targets to bed. Jade expected her to have returned hours ago, a nervous pit forming in her stomach as she glanced towards the door of their suite.

She took a deep breath, tapping away on her device as she located the Find My app, clicking it open to see if she could at least find Emmy’s location based on the whereabouts of her phone. Unfortunately, the minute the app ignited, she noticed a small message under Emmy’s icon, indicating that there was no location found for that user.

Her eyebrows pinched together at the sight, assuming wherever she was there most likely wasn’t any service to accurately display her location. Thankfully for the tech guru, she knew exactly how to go around the system, tracking the device with her own hacked rescue network.

To her surprise, there was still nothing showing her any glimpse at Emmy’s location, leaving her with nothing but suspicion of her friend’s whereabouts.

The soft hums of Ruby echoed from beside her, the brawn of the group resting on the couch, utilizing the opportunity to gather some energy as Jade grew more and more worried. “Ruby.” She spoke softly, glancing toward her as she sought out a pillow from the couch beside her, tossing it in her direction.

The plush fabric refused to spare Ruby as it whipped against her face, causing her to jolt up from her slumber. “What?!” She groaned, her eyes clearly heavy with exhaustion. “Is she back yet?”

As Ruby rubbed the exhaustion from her features, Jade stood up, feeling suddenly anxious that something wasn’t right. “No.” She spoke plainly, moving to retrieve her coat from one of the hooks near their hotel door. “She hasn’t even messaged.”

“Did you track her?” Ruby inquired, watching Jade’s face fall pale as she twisted the screen of her phone towards her teammate, displaying the failed connection to locating Emmy’s phone.

The reality of the situation caused Ruby to quickly sober up from her sleepy haze, watching the frightened expression stretch across Jade’s features. “Nothing?” Her agitation from being woken up seemed to dissipate as she plucked herself from the soft cushions, moving to grab her own coat from the opposite hook.

“Something’s wrong,” Jade stated plainly, glancing over at the clock once more to make sure she wasn’t over-exaggerating. “She would’ve sent something by now. It’s been hours.”

Ruby knew that Jade was the first to go into an instinctual protective mode, but she also had to admit that it was far too long for Emmy not to be back, let alone drop a text to fill them in. “Let's go down to the lobby.” Ruby offered with a hushed voice, knowing that it was far too early for anyone to really be up at this hour. Hopefully, it would help enlighten them on a possible lead to find their friend and comrade.

Jade nodded nervously, feeling Ruby’s hand rest on her shoulder, attempting to comfort the eldest as she suppressed her own growing concerns. Did Seoho discover her true intentions and have her arrested? Did something happen on their date that led to them being stranded out in the frigid wilderness?

The girls made their way out into the lobby, hoping to see Emmy walk through the corridors on the opposite side of the door. To their dismay, it was eerily silent given most of the guests in the area were fast asleep. The walk to the elevators was deafening, the stillness only adding to Jade’s worry as they made their way down to the lobby.

Downstairs, the lobby was vacant, except for a few resort staff and some alcoholics somehow still mingling at the bar. Taehyung was sunk into one of the leather couches adorning the lobby adjacent to the grand stone fireplace, his head slouched forward as he fought off a raging headache from indulging in one too many drinks.

Jimin was sitting across from him, typing away on his laptop like a busy businessman when in reality, he was trying to crack the resort's software to gain access to Seoho’s information. Surprisingly, it was proving more challenging than he cared to admit.

Jungkook was fighting off sleep beside him, his limbs now sore from his ski trip down the black diamond trails. “That’s weird,” Jimin’s voice echoed softly beside Jungkook as he peeked an eye open to hear out his colleague. “Seoho’s bank account is virtually untraceable.”

Jimin’s eyes scrunched together as he tried to follow the cryptic code leading to the multi-millionaires information. It was as if someone had already hacked his account, blocking out any cyber attempt to steal his information.

Jungkook adjusted himself in his seat, running his hand through his hair as he pushed the dark strands back. “I’ll give it to him. He might be a rich prick, but he’s a smart one.” There was an odd bite in his voice, his jealousy still bitterly threatening to reveal itself in regard to the handsome target.

It wasn’t often that the boys encountered a target who seemed smart enough to guard their belongings in such a secure way, almost manipulating the scammers away from the real location of his money. Jimin let out a long breath, shutting his computer screen as he sunk back into the couch, shifting his gaze toward Taehyung.

Jungkook suddenly noticed the elevators draw open to reveal Ruby and Jade’s concerned expressions as their eyes helplessly scanned the environment of the main lobby. Jungkook kicked his leg forward, hitting Taehyung in the shin as a groan festered in his chest. “What the fuck, JK?”

“Look alive.” He spoke unapologetically as Taehyung ran his hand against the bone of his leg, annoyed by the sudden jolt. “We’ve got company.”

Jimin shifted his gaze toward the direction of Jungkook’s, noticing Jade hesitantly gesture toward them with the silent protest of Ruby’s eyes. After a moment of communication between the pair, the girls made their way towards their adversaries, causing Jungkook to sit up in interest, his curiosity whirling as to Emmy’s whereabouts if her friends were here.

Taehyung heard their footsteps, finally lifting his head to break free from his grog as his eyes lit up with mischief at the sight of Ruby. “If it isn’t the alcoholic.”

Ruby couldn’t bite back the laugh that broke through the barrier of her lips, rolling her eyes as she observed the dark circles under his eyes. “I’m not the one currently hungover.”

Jimin ignored their exchange as his eyes shifted up to find Jade’s, admiring the way her coat hung loosely on her shoulders, exposing a cropped sweater underneath. “To what do we owe this pleasure?” Jimin inquired, Jungkook stirring beside him.

“Where’s the klepto?” Jungkook finally spoke, unable to prevent his eyes from scanning their surroundings in hopes of seeing Emmy joining them instead of being somewhere he didn’t want to imagine.

Jade crossed her arms in front of her chest, feeling her worries return as Jungkook brought up their youngest. “Have you seen her?” Jade hesitantly questioned, wondering if they would even help them in this matter.

“She’s probably getting her brains banged out.” Taehyung shamelessly added, causing Jungkook's expression to harden at the thought of Emmy being touched by yet another man. “He’s probably got her going all night long.”

Jungkook bit down against the inside of his lip piercing, hating the familiar sour sensation churning in his stomach. He hated the way Emmy suddenly had him tripping all over himself, feeling an insatiable jealousy brewing.

“Just track her phone,” Jimin commented nonchalantly. “I’m sure she’s not concerned about texting while her legs are spread open.”

Ruby shot her eyes over toward Jimin, annoyance bubbling in her core as she pressed her palms into the back of the sofa. “Like we haven’t already tried that, shortstack.” Jimin’s jaw tightened at the insult as Ruby held him pinned with her intense stare. “She was supposed to be back hours ago and her phone has suddenly gone dark.”

Jungkook’s brow pinched together, recalling just how obnoxiously charming Seoho had been this entire time. Something was off about how alluring he was to Emmy and the sudden news of her absence only stirred his thoughts further. He whipped the back of his hand against Jimin’s chest, his eyes filled with serious intent. “Look on the tracker.”

His words were soft enough for only Jimin to hear as the eldest of their trio lifted the screen of his laptop, typing away as he pulled up a program. Jade suddenly became suspicious of his actions, moving to stand closer to him as her eyes studied the contents of his screen. “Why are you pulling up spyware?”

Jimin ignored her question, maneuvering the program until he suddenly obtained a pinged location from what looked like a small portable microchip. As he zoomed in on the map, he noticed a small chalet on the lodge's property, pointing to his screen as he tilted it toward Jade. “This is the last location of her phone.”

Ruby adjusted her stance, glaring down at Taehyung threateningly. “And how exactly would you know that?”

Taehyung’s post-intoxicated state didn’t aid in his discreetness as he chuckled mischievously. “It’s a tracker. JK put it on Emmy’s phone when he drugged her.”

Taehyung suddenly groaned loudly in pain as Jungkook sent his foot directly into his shin. Jade and Ruby shot their glances at each other, suddenly realizing why the boys happened to show up everywhere they were seeking a hustle.

“I swear, I’m gonna beat your ass.” Ruby hissed, latching her hand around Taehyung’s collar as she pulled the fabric up, causing him to follow. Jade’s expression was just as deadly as she leaned closer to Jimin who cleared his throat, fiddling with the program in an attempt to distract her.

“Wait!” He interrupted abruptly, causing Ruby to release her grip on Taehyung as he plopped back onto the leather sofa. “Someone tampered with the tracker. It hasn’t updated since almost an hour ago.”

Jade and Ruby’s anger simmered for the time being as Jungkook snatched the computer away from Jimin, finally putting together all of the pieces of the puzzle. “Something’s not right.” He spoke quietly as he switched screens onto the hotel's system. “Seoho rented the cabin yesterday morning but his transaction isn’t linked to a bank account or credit card.”

Jade’s eyes widened at the realization, knowing that only scammers and highly skilled computer geniuses could complete those types of invisible transactions. “Emmy isn’t with a multi-millionaire is she?” Jade’s words were haunting as she spoke them, causing everyone to sober up at the severity of the situation.

Jungkook stood from his spot, leaning forward to grab Jade’s elbow as he began guiding her towards the front doors of the lodge. “We need to get to that chalet…fast.” Part of him was thrilled that Seoho wasn’t this charming wealthy bachelor that could seduce Emmy, however, his excitement was rapidly replaced with concern for his adversary, wishing he would’ve tried harder to pluck her away from Seoho.

“Come on.” Ruby gestured, encouraging Jimin and Taehyung to quickly follow. Despite them all being enemies in their hustles, they had grown to respect each other enough to feel worried for Emmy’s well-being. Jimin closed out all of his programs, leaving his computer at the front desk as he chased after them, realizing that the sun would soon rise to reveal light on the truth of Seoho’s intentions.

—

Emmy stirred as she heard shuffling around her, her eyes struggling to focus as took in her surroundings. Her pupils danced around frantically, noticing she wasn’t back in her hotel room with the girls. She rested along a leather couch surrounded by a darkened room she vaguely remembered. Panic set in as she heard boots against the floorboards in the background while she tried to move her limbs.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, air pacing rapidly through her system when she realized she couldn’t move anything but her vision. It was like her soul was stuck in the body of a doll, observing the world from wherever she was perched. She glanced toward the large windows, noticing that it was fairly dark outside but she could not indicate the time of day. Her attention dragged across the living room, glancing over the cleaned-up coffee table before catching a glimpse of her things bundled together on an armchair by the entry. She spotted the glimmer of silver that resembled the material of her skirt and the fluffy coat she wore during her date with Seoho. She glanced down quickly, finding she still had the white shirt she wore and a white blanket over her lap.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Emmy looked up to find Seoho smirking down at her over the back of the couch. He checked the watch on his wrist swiftly, “I guess that means it's almost time to check out.” He hummed with amusement as he strolled over toward the entryway gathering her things. He cradled the items into his arms before walking them to the kitchen where Emmy remembered he got the wine from.

The visions of Seoho’s seductive eyes flashed in her mind as she was jolted back to the events that transpired before she seemingly blacked out. The way his hands mapped her body as his lips caressed her skin. The sudden prick from the needle he punctured through her vein. His smile sent haunting chills along her spine, grinning as if he were the Cheshire cat watching a helpless bird trapped within a cage of his own making.

She continued to try gaining function of her limbs by any means necessary, fear trickling deeper into her heart the longer she lay there uselessly. She nearly cried with frustration as her view was restricted by the lack of control of her neck muscles, rendering her completely immobile. Shortly Seoho returned, placing a bag on the chair where her things previously laid, and turned his focus on her.

He could see the whites of her eyes while her pupils continued to flicker across the room, trying to decipher what was happening and why she couldn’t do anything about it. During the night he changed out most of her clothing, anything that identified her on any surveillance during their date. He made sure to put her in a pair of white pants and kept her covered by a blanket while she was unconscious.

“Aw, ma belle. You seem so confused.” Seoho’s usual term of endearment was far less comforting as his boots scuffed against the floorboards with every step he made toward her. His strong hands grabbed ahold of her body, adjusting her to sit up and making sure to cradle her head to keep her upright. “It’s nothing personal. You should know better than anyone it’s just business.” His cruel smile returned as her pulse quickened, her nostrils burning from the friction of air speeding through her system.

Seoho watched her eyes scan the room, picking up on the perfectly cleaned area everywhere her focus landed. He savored the fear as her eyes became wide, her irises dilating. Seoho sighed as he sat on the coffee table, slowly drinking in the rapid pulse under his fingertips. He moved a hand away from her to pull out her cell phone, waving it at her as he tutted in disapproval. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Emerald…or should I say Emily?”

Emmy would have flinched if she wasn’t already a motionless corpse. How did he know her real name? Who exactly was this guy, and what was he going to do with her?

Seoho sighed, placing the phone back in his pocket. “I get it…Our line of work doesn’t make it easy to use our real identities.” He noticed the subtle way her eyes relaxed, more intrigue behind her stare than fear. He released the support of his hand keeping her head up, letting it slump to the side toward her shoulder. He got up from the coffee table, moving toward the entry to bundle up in his jacket.

He slipped his arms through the sleeves of his black coat, “The other downside is we make a lot of enemies,” He paused as his hand poked through the cuff, his arm stretched out to easily place the thick fabric over his shoulders. “Don’t we?” He grinned like he was sharing an inside joke. “Well, I know you made at least one.”

He zipped up the jacket, relishing in his success as he noticed the subtle furrow of Emmy’s eyebrows, indicating that the paralysis was starting to wear off. “See, my client has been desperately trying to find you for quite some time, but after a while, he contacted me, and well…I always find my target.”

Emmy noticed the pride seeping from his being, suddenly seeming taller with her draped on his couch like she was his catch of the day. She wondered who this “client” was and what she could have possibly done to make him want to hunt her down? Then an unsettling thought occurred to her as she considered what else Seoho or his client planned to do to her.

He grabbed her large white coat before moving back toward Emmy, slumping her forward as he wrapped the coat around her torso. “You could say he’s an eye for an eye kind of guy,” He got comfortable on the coffee table again and then helped her limp limb into the arm of the coat. “Well, more like an eye for a life.” He chuckled at his own joke as he flicked his eyes up to catch the realization etch across her face.

The pieces were falling together as Emmy realized why he cleaned up the suite so nicely and drugged her. He was taking care of the evidence. She shuddered to think of how he’d kill her and what would become of her body. What would happen to her friends? Would they find her? Would he hurt them too? Her insides were frantically fighting to get her muscles moving again, trying desperately to protect herself to the best ability.

Seoho slipped her arm through the other sleeve and zipped it up, making sure to tuck her phone back into her own pocket. His eyes darkened with intent as he stood back up, walking into the kitchen. Emmy could vaguely hear him shuffling through some items, noticing a small clink of glass and gentle tapping sounds.

She slouched against the armrest of the sofa, her body feeling heavy and light all at once since her mind acted as if she was constrained to the furniture with the most secure fastens. She huffed through her nose wishing she could scream or yell for help in this lifeless state. However, she glanced down at her fingertips wiggling on the cushion, the small appendages nearly tap-dancing along the leather. Her heart leaped with joy, wishing the rest of her hand to move, but found the rest of her was unresponsive.

She was startled back to reality when she heard his boots again, stomping their way back to the living room. She noticed another syringe in his hand and panicked to lose consciousness again. She relaxed only slightly when he slipped the covered device in his pocket. “Your little friends made things difficult, but don’t worry…” He loomed over her body, pulling the blanket from her lap and wafting it in the air to fan out. He swept it around her shoulders, tucking it securely around her body. “You’ll see them shortly.”

Emmy felt tears pool in her eyes as his deep chuckle reverberated through her core, his smile blurring behind the liquid veil distorting her vision. She raked her brain for who would want to kill her. She knew she fucked over people of all kinds, but she never imagined anyone would wish her dead. And because of her, Jade and Ruby were in danger as well. There was nothing she could do but listen to his monologue and watch as he made his preparations.

Seoho yanked Emmy up, quickly lifting her into his arms like a bride. His expression seemed indifferent as he cradled her, moving toward the door after grabbing the bag he placed on the chair. Emmy was grateful for the layers that kept her warm when he opened the door. The cold darkness engulfed them as he stepped down the small set of wooden stairs, crunching on the thick layer of snow.

Emmy was putting pieces together as events progressed, realizing why he changed her clothing before taking her outside. The further they got from the light bleeding from the windows of the chalet, Emmy could make out the dark hues of the morning sky which meant it was nearly sunrise.

Seoho wordlessly held Emmy against him, their breathing coming out like small puffs of smoke. He moved across the path they walked along earlier and made his way toward the frozen lake. Emmy felt her heart sink, tears icing over her eyes as she realized what he would be doing. Her ears filled with her internal screaming, the sound loud with desperation but silent amongst the trees.

Seoho slowed down to a stop, looking over his shoulder to analyze the distance from the cabin. From his vantage point, he could not see any other cabin within sight and deemed this the perfect distance before placing her on the ground. He hummed contently when he observed her lying helplessly in the bundle of white, the only striking feature being her bright blue eyes and dark curtain of hair.

He cupped her cheek, bringing her eyes up to look at him. “The ice is really going to make your eyes…pop!” He laughed to himself as he dropped her face, moving to shuffle through the bag to grab something. Emmy wanted to cringe at his attempt to compliment her in the form of a sadistic joke.

“Perfect.” She heard him say quietly, flicking her attention towards the item he retrieved from the bag. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the axe in his hand. Perfect. She scrunched her features together as a wave of emotions crashed through her as she thought of Jungkook. Would he notice she was gone? Would he even care? She thought back on their odd moment on top of the mountain, wondering if she made the whole thing up in her head, hearing what she wanted to hear. She blinked her eyes rapidly as tears invaded her vision. Seoho noticed.

He held the axe towards her face, showing it off in a way. “Oh, don’t let this frighten you. Blood is too messy to clean up.” He brought it back to examine, his eyes sparkling the same way they did when he looked at her during their previous interactions. Now, the affectionate expression only made her wonder what he was thinking in those moments of the past. “No, I plan to let the lake take you.”

Crack!

Emmy would have jumped when Seoho slammed the axe against the ice, creating a clean divot with the blade. “Keeps my hands clean.” He laughed to himself before taking another whack at the ice, creating another notch into the surface holding them from the cold water below.

He let out a relaxed sigh to see his progress as he effortlessly sliced through the ice. He glanced up at the sky noticing the coloration changing as daylight started spreading across the atmosphere. “I wonder what will kill you first…the cold or the water?”

Crack!

Emmy watched the breath from his lungs come out in strong huffs as the clouds of air leaving his lips grew in size. He panted as his muscles strained with the weight of the axe and the impact when he struck the solidified liquid. “Do you know what it feels like? Being trapped under ice?”

His eyes swept up to clash with her own and with his bangs hanging within his view, he looked absolutely sinister as a smirk smeared over his lips. “You’ll feel the ice stabbing you like a million little needles, your clothes dragging you down further.” He dug the blade of the axe into the ice, testing to see if he could break through the barrier. “Then you’ll go numb while water smothers you in its icy, cold grip.” He lifted the axe again before thrashing it back down. “You’re insides will burn for air until all you can think to do is open your mouth to scream.” He worked faster against the ice, smashing the axe down with more power and setting his pace aggressively. “Water will flood your lungs, and the shock will make you black out.”

Emmy watched as he attacked the ice like a deranged animal, chiseled ice flying into the air like a small flurry. Her heart could no longer beat in tandem with the fear spiking through her, skipping beats from the overwhelming tremors that shook down to her core. She could feel her hand rotate under the confinement of the white blanket and prayed the sensation would continue to move through her body.

He paused in his efforts, sighing deeply as he caught his breath. “Then finally, you’re organs will shut down one by one.” He glanced at her, smiling softer than before as he relaxed. “At least you won’t have to struggle too much.” Emmy scoffed as he said the statement like he was doing her a favor.

—

“Do you hear that?” Jade asked as the group of five quickly moved down the snow-covered path toward the chalet Seoho reserved. There was a strange echo moving through the atmosphere as they came closer to their destination. It rippled through the trees but the source was hard to pinpoint.

Jungkook quickened his pace, feeling uneasy the closer they got to the private chalet as he realized how far apart the suites were from each other. Seoho picked these for ample privacy and something told Jungkook it wasn’t for sex. “Let’s hurry.”

Jimin spotted the light post that indicated the suite number of Seoho’s chalet as Jungkook blindly rushed by it. “Wait, this is it.” He kept his voice low, trying not to call too much attention to their suspicious actions in the early morning when the sun had barely risen.

Jungkook stopped, turning around to look up at the dimly lit chalet that seemed lifeless other than the warm light burning off of it. He locked his jaw when he noticed a series of heavy prints in the snow that were far too fresh to be from the evening before. The others had started sneaking their way toward the entrance when he heard the sharp echo again.

“That sounds a lot closer.” Ruby acknowledged as they all stopped.

Jungkook followed the line of footprints, noticing them going down by the lake which had a line of trees in the way of his view. “I don’t think they're in his room.” He said, his tone severely on edge. Without any regard for the others, he proceeded to make his way down to the water.

“JK! Where are you going?”

He could hardly recognize the voice as he focused on keeping his eyes forward and vigilant for anything out of the ordinary. As the tree line started to break apart, he caught a glimpse of someone out in the middle of the lake. He narrowed his eyes and recognized Seoho’s crop of hair before frantically looking for the familiar frame of Emmy.

“Seoho!” Jungkook called out to the supposed millionaire, trying to catch his attention. His heart stopped when Seoho turned around with Emmy slumped within his arms. His mind ran with a million thoughts and scenarios, his only concern being that Emmy was still alive “Seoho!” He called out again as a warning, picking up his feet and dashing across the slippery ice.

Seoho did not heed his tone and instead, quickly tossed Emmy into the hole he created as if she were a ragdoll. Jungkook felt the cold air stab his lungs as he began pulling his jacket from his shoulders, mentally prepared to dive in after her.

“Emmy!” The rest had arrived just in time to see Seoho drop the brunette in the water. They followed after Jungkook, shock overtaking them as they saw this unrecognizable man reaching for an axe that was stabbed into the ice. “JK, watch out!”

Jungkook tore his gaze from the hole Seoho made to see his opponent holding a weapon, sharp stare trained on Jungkook. The youngest male hustler was undeterred as he advanced, prepared to get passed Seoho. He had to save Emmy and he wasn’t letting anyone get in his way.

There was a scream from one of the girls as Jungkook tossed his coat into Seoho’s face, moving out of the way of the blade when Seoho tried to swing at him. Without missing a beat, he pushed off the balls of his feet and dove into the icy abyss.

Seoho growled, ripping the material from his face, turning to see the water slosh over the edge of the ice. He smirked to himself, twirling the axe in his palm “Idiot.” He turned his attention to the others. “I hope you’re ready to join them.” He yelled out, preparing to kill off the two men first before finishing with the girls.

Taehyung reached Seoho, staying a safe distance from the psycho as he made sure to keep him distracted while the others caught up. “I know she was trying to rob you, but this is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Seoho chuckled darkly, dropping the tense facade for a second before quickly swiping at Taehyung to throw him off. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I’m gonna help the others!” Jade shared, grabbing everyone’s attention. She tried to run past Seoho but jumped back when the axe came swinging towards her.

Jimin took his opportunity while Seoho was distracted and collided against his waist, knocking him to the ground while Taehyung and Ruby grabbed his arms. “Go!” He yelled at Jade, keeping his weight on Seoho who fought against the three with surprising strength.

Jade quickly slid to the edge of the hole and quickly placed her hand through the water in hopes Jungkook would find her appendage in the darkness. “I need a light!” She screamed, looking into the dark pool below them, fear spiking her heart when she realized she couldn’t see a thing.

Taehyung had tossed the axe away from Seoho while he and Ruby held him down by his arms. Ruby was struggling to keep him still as he tried to pry himself from her grip. Jimin glanced back at Jade, his brain working overtime to find a solution. “Your phone! Use your phone!”

Jimin was suddenly tossed off from Seoho, crashing against the ice. “Shit!” Ruby cursed when she realized he had broken away from her and attacked Taehyung. He punched him in the face, knocking his skull against the cold surface before crawling toward the axe. His eyes were frantic and wild as he focused on the weapon. Just as he reached for the handle, Jimin came up and kicked it away.

He grabbed Jimin and yanked him down to the ground. He moved quickly onto his feet, stealing the opportunity to kick Jimin against his stomach until Ruby jumped on his back. “Fuck you, asshole.” She hissed between her teeth, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He pulled her arms apart and turned around, bending her elbow unnaturally with one hand. Ruby screamed out in pain, looking down at Jimin to see him struggling to get back up. “You were supposed to wait your turn.” Seoho spit in her ear, reaching into his pocket to pull the syringe out. He lifted it to his lips, trying to pull the cap off with his teeth, but stumbled when something blunt smacked the back of his head.

The syringe dropped onto the ice as Seoho collapsed to see Taehyung standing with his axe being held so that he was it with the handle rather than the sharp end. Blood dripped from Taehyung’s nose while he tossed the axe away and plucked the syringe. “What is this?” He asked, looking down at Seoho with hatred. When Seoho didn’t answer, he pulled the cap off and held it threateningly. “What is it!?”

Seoho laughed in his face, “It won’t kill me.”

Taehyung kneeled down, pressing on Seoho’s chest to keep him on his back. He stabbed the needle into the only exposed patch of skin available on his neck. “Good, then I’ll sleep well tonight.” He pushed the substance into Seoho’s system, quickly discarding the syringe when Seoho started fighting against him.

Jade worried as time went on, flashing her light down into the water and still not seeing any movement. “Come on, come on.” Her hand was numb, sitting in the freezing water, hoping and praying that someone touched it. She glanced up to see Jimin and Ruby crowding over Seoho who lay almost lifeless beneath Taehyung.

She gasped when fingers wrapped around her own, quickly pulling her arm out when she saw the pale complexion of Jungkook burst through the small opening in the ice. He inhaled sharply as Jade helped pull him up, frantically looking to make sure he had Emmy with him. “Oh my god!” He lifted the youngest woman up toward Jade, her features completely gone of color.

Jimin quickly hurried over to help Jungkook out, the younger male feeling his muscles strain against the cold that wrapped around him. “Are you fucking crazy?” Jimin asked lightheartedly, knowing that Jungkook was reckless but on this occasion, he ended up saving someone.

“Emmy? Emmy!” Jade called to her friend, lightly tapping her frigid cheek with the palm of her hand. She ignored the alarming coloration of Emmy’s skin and the lack of movement from her diaphragm as she continued to try waking her friend up.

Jungkook quickly crawled toward Emmy, “Watch out.” He remained calm as he pushed Jade away, situating himself on his knees and hovering over Emmy. He could vaguely hear the others in the background, but he was trying to take in as much air as possible before diving down and sealing his lips over Emmy’s cold ones. He forced the air bewteen their lips, making sure it would push to reach its proper destination.

He moved away, placing his hands on the center of her chest. He began pumping against her torso, counting to himself before trying to rush more air into her lungs. As he stared down at her, her features became unrecognizable. No longer was she looking at him with a challenge in her vibrant eyes or smirking with seduction and triumph. Now she lay beneath him, fightless and dull. Lifeless.

His vision blurred as his heart raced, his muscles tired from the harsh cold. He could hear someone softly calling his name while others sobbed. Whoever spoke to him, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Despite the heaviness of their palm on his shoulder, he easily knocked it away still hellbent on bringing Emmy back from unconsciousness.

He bent down, sparing more air from his lungs, and pushed a couple times before her body lurched up, water spewing from her mouth. She gasped as her eyes shot open, sputtering when she coughed up more fluids. Jungkook could hear the others singing praises as they crowded around them but ignored them as he looked down at her, blinking the blur away from his eyes.

He watched her as color started to slowly creep back over her features, moving her head ever so slightly to take in her surroundings. When her blue eyes found Jungkook, she paused. Her lips moved, but at first, no sound came out. She tried again. “JK?” Her voice croaked from the icy water and the drug still running through her system.

Hearing her say just his name had him melting with elation, it was as if hearing her speak confirmed that she was well and alive. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as his hand supported her head, bringing her body towards his chest and his forehead to her own. His other hand came and cradled her cheek as he leaned into her, their lips inches apart. “You’re safe.” It was a promise that not only reassured her but reassured him.

—

The sun finally peeked from behind the vast mountains, gracing the frigid atmosphere with its warmth. Red lights flashed over the pure white snow and soft blue frozen lake as the emergency vehicles parked along the path that led to the resort’s private chalets. Seoho was immediately apprehended with no struggle from him since the paralysis kicked in well before the officers arrived. Detectives were called in to investigate the scene while the group of hustlers were checked for their injuries.

Ruby and Jade were mostly unscathed, while the others had some lingering trauma from the incident. Jungkook and Emmy were pulled apart for examination, working quickly to warm their body temperatures. Jimin was checked for any injuries on his abdomen while Taehyung was treated for his busted nose. Taehyung had no shame in flirting with the attractive EMT.

Jade sighed as she tapped away on a cellular device, Ruby glancing curiously beside her. “Did you get rid of everything?” The brawn of the group wondered.

“There wasn’t much to erase. This was a burner at best.” Jade huffed with defeat. Before the emergency officials arrived she made sure to swipe Seoho’s phone to get an idea of who exactly he was and erase any incriminating evidence he had on Emmy. However, she found the data was nearly empty other than a few exchanges with one particular phone number.

Ruby hissed as she stretched out her arm, flinching in pain as it unnaturally popped. “Damn, asshole nearly took my arm off.”

Jade glanced at her partner with mild concern. “You should have that checked out.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t catch me dead hanging around a bunch of cops.” Ruby laughed sarcastically, tucking her arms back into themselves to bundle up in the cold.

Jade rolled her eyes, turning to spot Emmy bundled in a blanket offered by the EMTs. It seemed she was being questioned by one of the detectives, going over the events since Seoho brought her back to his suite. Her eyes moved across the landscape, noticing Jimin and Taehyung sitting beside each other on the bumper of the ambulance as Taehyung held a pack of ice to his nose.

Jade nudged Ruby, gesturing with a jerk of her head towards the two men. Ruby sighed, cringing at the idea that she had to endure Taehyung who unconventionally saved the day and she was not ready for his gloating. Her shoulders fell in defeat as she followed Jade toward the ambulance, her lips sealed together as the cold wind drafted over her body.

The female EMT giggled yet again as Taehyung complimented her bedside manner causing Jimin to roll his eyes. He then noticed Jade and Ruby approaching them, jerking his elbow into Taehyung’s side to silently grab his attention. The EMT noticed a shift in the air as the two women approached, sensing tension amongst the group. “Are these your friends?” She asked Taehyung, looking for clarity on his availability.

“Something like that,” Jade answered with a false smile, her eyes narrowed in Jimin’s direction.

The EMT observed the four individuals and felt there was some unspoken communication between them she wasn’t aware of and made a quick decision. “I’ll give you a minute and be back to check on your nose.” She smiled sweetly at Taehyung before quickly evading the awkward situation hanging amongst the group.

Jimin waited until her footsteps faded away before turning toward Jade. “Find anything on his phone?”

Jade pulled the device out, offering it to Jimin. “Hardly, anything. Just a phone number.” She watched him take the cell phone, quickly scrolling through it and looking through the data for any irregularities. She waited a moment as he scanned the information before a thought crossed her mind. “Are there any more tracking chips we should know about?”

Jimin broke his attention away from Seoho’s phone, biting his lip to stop his smile at her attempt to look intimidating. She had her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side, and a deep furrow to her browline, but he just couldn’t take her seriously. She didn’t have a violent bone in her body. He lowered the device from his face, smirking up at her. “And what if there is? What are you going to do about it?”

He noticed her expression falter for a brief second before Ruby took a step forward to block his view. She leveled herself with his stare, “If I catch you following us again, I’ll castrate all of you.”

Taehyung laughed beneath his ice pack, the sound getting muffled under the cool gel. “If it wasn’t for us, you’re little friend would be dead, sweetheart.”

Ruby snapped her head in his direction, burning a glare deeper through his skull. “Don’t make me break that nose.”

Jade pulled Ruby back, feeling slightly guilty that they were giving them a hard time when ultimately their enemies ended up helping them. Despite all the trouble and grief they caused each other, they were able to work together seamlessly to save Emmy. “Thank you by the way.” While the notion was genuine, it felt odd on Jade’s tongue as she addressed the two infuriating men.

Ruby scoffed as Taehyung ate up Jade’s gratitude, letting it go straight to his ego and display across his engulfing grin. Jimin’s smirk deflated, his features softening with the interaction. “There’s no more chips either…I promise.” He offered, hoping this might settle some turmoil between the two groups. While they were far from being friends, maybe it was safe to have an ally in situations like these.

—

“Alright that should be all for now. I’ll try and get in contact with you if I need any more information.” The officer questioning Emmy quickly wrote down some information on a small notepad before tucking the article into his inner coat pocket. He nodded in dismissal, turning to head back to the suite to gather any other evidence against Seoho’s actions.

Emmy pulled her blanket tighter around her torso, her hair slightly frosted from the cold air freezing the water soaked within her strands. She relaxed as the police stepped away, finally catching her breath since they arrived. When Jungkook pulled her from the ice, her muscles were still gaining their ability to move as her vocal cords struggled to function. By the time the emergency vehicles arrived, she was able to move most of her upper body and got assistance from Jungkook across the ice to seek warmth.

Once she was settled, they pulled him away to another area to be checked when they noticed his pale complexion. During her conversation with the officials, her voice was course from the constriction of the frigid environment she endured nearly all morning. She would glance in Jungkook’s direction off in the distance every once in a while but always looked away when their eyes met.

“How ‘ you feeling?” Jungkook poked his head out from around the opened door of the ambulance Emmy was currently occupying.

Emmy observed him, watching him come sit beside her. He had none of his usual mannerisms at the moment, and she was a little thrown off by how calm he seemed under the circumstance. “I’m fine.” She finally answered, bundling further into her blanket.

The air was still around them as silence settled into the atmosphere. Emmy suddenly felt uncomfortable by this unusually quiet side to Jungkook she never encountered. “Did they find anything on this guy?” Jungkook asked, disrupting the suspense.

She wondered what Jungkook might have been looking for in regard to Seoho’s character and was unsure what she could share with him. She bit her lip as she debated her response. When she talked to cops, she left a few details out that would cause them to start digging into her past, but with Jungkook she felt a little more lenient to share her side of the story. He knew parts of her life that any average person wouldn’t understand, not to mention, he also saved her from drowning.

“Not really. Seoho’s not even his real name.” She said, gauging Jungkook’s interest. She was surprised when his large eyes were looking at her, his lips parted in shock. “He told me he was hired by someone…someone who wanted me dead.”

Jungkook’s heart plummeted to his stomach, the tranquility he had once knowing Seoho was arrested disappeared within an instant. He thought her near-death experience was an isolated incident with a psycho, but if he was hired to kill her that only meant the threat was still out there. “Any idea who hired him?”

It all started to make sense to Jungkook as he replayed the last couple of days in his head. The way Seoho seemed so intent on Emmy’s attention despite Jungkook’s meddling. During their time on the slopes, Jungkook remembered trying to get more information from Seoho on a personal level, but his answers were always vague and left room for interpretation. Jungkook knew there was something wrong, but he just assumed it was his jealousy.

As Jungkook digested the realization of his emotions, Emmy thought back on Seoho’s one-sided conversation in the chalet. Eye for an eye…eye for a life…She went through her past targets, thinking of their eyes and wondering what he could have meant by that. “I mean, technically it could be anyone...” She laughed bitterly, “Look at Seoho. He was perfect until he tried to kill me.”

Jungkook was comforted by her sarcasm, slightly grateful that the man she was previously enamored with had at least one major flaw. He sighed, looking back at her as he noticed her conflicted expression. He knew besides the obvious trauma of the situation, Emmy was probably having a mental breakdown about Seoho. Even though he was a target, Jungkook could tell she liked him, and knowing that every interaction with him was an act had to be unsettling.

“People like us…we can’t live normal lives.” Jungkook spoke softly. It was a hard pill to slow, but it’s what they both needed to hear in the moment. Feelings were making their jobs more complicated and more dangerous. Jungkook nearly killed himself trying to save her, and it shook him to think he would probably do it all over again if he needed to. “You just never know who to trust.” Seoho was a clear indicator of that comment as even Jungkook spent time with the unsuspecting hitman.

Emmy digested his words, pressing her lips together as a pit formed in her stomach. While she knew he was right, she couldn’t help but see the flaw in his statement. There was a world full of people that she would always keep at arm's length, but there were also a few that she could trust with her life. If this situation proved to her anything, it was that there were at least five people who knew her better than anyone else.

“You know, despite the fact that you’re an ass…I kind of trust you.” She admitted softly, refusing to look in his direction as she suddenly felt vulnerable.

Jungkook felt an unnatural warmth radiate from his core, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the grin from displaying across his face. He never imagined her saying those words to him or how his body would react. He wasn’t used to this feeling, but he couldn’t argue that it felt nice. “You know, even though you called me an ass, “ He kept his eyes forward, worried that if he looked at her he would be tempted to kiss her. “You're welcome.”

The air was still once again as silence drifted over them like a calm blanket, the tension dissipated as they savored each other’s company. It was unspoken that Emmy was grateful for his efforts to save her, but as she leaned her head against his shoulder, enough was said within the small gesture. The pair took in the scenery, no longer feeling the cold that clung to their frames, but enjoying the heat between them. The sun glistened off the crystal snow, reflecting its light beautifully over the crisp morning. The world was calm beyond the chaos and in that moment, everything seemed perfect.

—

“He did what?” Emmy’s voice flared through the lobby of the resort. After things settled from the events in the early morning, the girls were able to make their way back to the hotel and properly check out. As they maneuvered their luggage downstairs, Jade and Ruby filled her in on what happened before their rescue mission. “That little shit.” She hissed, realizing Jungkook drugged her well before Seoho ever did.

She remembered their time on the plane, obviously, some interactions sticking out more than others, but she always wondered how the few drinks she had completely knocked her out on the plane ride. She never imagined that Jungkook put something in her drink.

“Yeah, and then put a chip in your phone so they could follow us.” Jade added while Ruby returned their room keys.

Emmy was in utter disbelief. No wonder they were always infiltrating their hustles and stealing out from under them. They were always two steps ahead because they were already expecting to deal with their female adversaries. “Of fucking course.” She huffed, still digesting the information.

“At least you lost your phone.” Jade mentioned, knowing that there was no way they could be tracked now that the chipped device was at the bottom of the frozen lake.

Emmy laughed sarcastically, “Yeah, just perfect.” She shook her head, locking her jaw in annoyance. “He better hope we don’t run into them again 'cause I swear…” She groaned in aggravation, upset that she couldn't dig into him at that moment.

Jade shrugged her shoulders, “Listen if they didn’t follow us, who knows what would have happened.” Jade hated that it was ultimately because of the three men that she was even talking to Emmy. If it was just her and Ruby, there was no way they would have been able to handle Seoho on their own.

Emmy sighed deeply, still slightly agitated that Jungkook manipulated her, but then remembered how he treated her during this particular mission. He might have been difficult in the beginning as he usually was, but he was so attentive when he resuscitated her.

“Alright, can we leave now? I’m so done with the cold.” Ruby interrupted after leaving the desk. She was ready to get back to the desert as fast as possible. Jade and Emmy chuckled as Ruby set a fast pace for the large doors leading outside until Emmy caught a glimpse of a beach poster.

Her interest was piqued by the friendly salesman standing behind a hostess stand, discussing their cruise line options that have discounts associated with the hotel. A thought crossed her mind, snapping her attention toward her friends who were still heading out the door. “Hey, girls? How about we take a vacation?”

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