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audliminal · 1 day ago

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Survivability Bias Pt 7

Masterpost - Ao3

Danny’s on his morning run when he notices the buzzing in his pocket. He stops short, stepping off to the side of the path, so he’s not in anyone’s way. It’s odd, having a phone again. He’s long since buried his old phone in his backpack. It died weeks ago, and he doesn’t really see any point in trying to charge it, when it can’t fulfill it’s primary purpose. The new phone from Robin is clearly far more advanced. It’s weird, having to use a touch screen, and Danny really hasn’t fiddled with it much. He doesn’t really know who’s paying for the service, but he’d rather not test their patience with accidental charges. So he’s only messaged Robin, and only to respond, on the few occasions Robin has had follow-up questions. Now, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, wondering what Robin needs, but instead of a contact name, the text notification lists a number.

Someone else is trying to call him.

Danny stares at the notification, fear condensing in the fathomless pit of his stomach. He’d known the phone was a risk when Robin had handed it to him. Had understood from the start that it was also a tool to track Danny. But there had been no reasonable way out of it; if Robin was going to make Danny exist, then he had to be able to contact him, for questions, or to let him know when his ID was ready. Sure, Superboy can listen for Danny’s voice, but he can’t exactly message Danny back without coming to meet him, and Robin undoubtedly doesn’t want to have to go through Superboy to talk to him anyways. So he’d accepted the phone, and he’d been careful not to go anywhere weird.

What Danny hadn’t considered, is the notion that Robin might give the number to others. Or, worse, that others might be able to find it (a trail is a trail is a trail). Now, here’s the clear evidence otherwise. Alarms flare in Danny’s head as he reconsiders, counting all the ways in which this whole thing was a terrible idea. He doesn’t have friends to help him here. He doesn’t even have Vlad to fall back on. Anonymity was quite literally his only protection and he threw that away for, what, the chance that he might be able to go to space camp?

Something touches his arm, and Danny leaps back, weight falling onto his back foot and arms coming up as he glares at the person in front of him. But when he pauses to process, the only person in front of him is an old lady who he’s seen around plenty of times before. Great. This is a public space, and there’s other people here, and he just acted like he was gonna fight an old lady.

“I’m so sorry!” Danny exclaims, snapping his arms down. “I just-” Danny fumbles for a moment, trying to think of an explanation that doesn’t sound like an excuse.

“Oh, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for, dear.” The lady says with a smile, even as she takes a half step back. “I touched you without warning; your response to that is your own. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh...” Danny says. “Okay?” He frowns, trying to remember if he stumbled or something before he stopped.

“Well, you looked at your phone and I thought you looked upset. So when you didn’t move after a minute, I thought you might have... well, I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, and it tends to not mean anything good.”

“Oh, that’s, um. That’s very nice of you.”

“Nothing of it dear! Now, I don’t want to pry into your business, but if you need an ear, or a hug, or just someone to sit with you for a moment...” She trails off. Danny blinks, and glances back at his phone.

“Um, I think- it’s fine. I probably need to go deal with this, but it’s nothing worth worrying about.” He plasters his best smile on as he says the last bit, and resolutely ignores the way her frown only deepens. “But I really appreciate the offer! I mean, really!” Danny takes one, then two steps back, then turns towards the entrance to the park, and sets off at a jog, calculating in his head.

It’s been about five minutes since his phone buzzed. Nothing’s happened yet, which means whatever situation probably isn’t hostile yet, so Danny presumably has some amount of time. And the first priority has to be keeping this poor town out of it, so the first thing he needs to do is get out of the town.

Luckily, Danny’s had a map of the best transformation spots building in his head since day one, so it’s a simple matter of running to the closest one, shifting, and then taking off under the cover of his invisibility. Once he gets some height, he starts scanning his surroundings for any odd activity, but everything in the town seems normal, so Danny refocuses, looking instead for a safe spot to deal with...whoever is after him now.

Five minutes later, Danny drops down onto an empty, overgrown lot, well away from anyone. The second his feet hit the ground, he looks down at the phone still in his hand. The unknown number is still there, staring him down from the notification screen. Danny takes a deep breath, and he swipes the phone open and begins to read.

Hey! I talked Robin into giving me your number so we could chat more easily! (it’s Superboy in case that isn’t clear)

Danny stares at the message, the dread in his stomach promptly evaporating, until all that’s left is a dense little nugget of embarrassment. Superboy. Who Danny knows and has talked to, and had been very friendly, and absolutely would have asked his friend Robin for Danny’s number. Because they’re at least sort-of-friends and that’s what friends do. They share their phone numbers and then send each other messages. And Danny reacted to a stupid message by panicking and fleeing the entire town like his phone was a bomb that he had to defuse in a desolate-ass field across from a shitty abandoned truck stop along an equally abandoned highway.

At least Superboy’s not here to see Danny look like a loser.

Hey! He quickly writes back. That’s a great idea, I’ll add you to my contacts :D

Danny hits send, then immediately takes off, heading back towards town. Maybe if he’s quick enough, nobody will catch that he left.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. Like, yeah Superboy had been acting friendly towards him from the beginning, but he hadn’t really thought about the other boy as being a potential friend or anything. There’s a part of him that feels guilty about it - that aches with the thought that he could be sending Superboy all the messages he would have sent to Sam and Tucker. He knows they’d call him an idiot if they could hear those thoughts, but the uncomfortable feeling doesn’t seem overly concerned with Danny’s attempts at rational thought.

He wishes they had come with him, even as he knows how unfair it would’ve been to ask. Their bond may be strong as hell (turns out half-dying in front of your friends makes for an unbreakable friendship), but his friends have families that love and care about them. Meanwhile, Danny’s family had always been a catastrophic mess. He’d always tried not to let himself think about it, but here in a different dimension, it’s easy to admit to himself how much it hurt to have his parents not realize he’d died.

They’d never even questioned it, not sought out a single further answer as to how the portal suddenly started working. Danny had spent weeks, falling through furniture and randomly going invisible, had suddenly started being targeted by their shitty home defense systems, and they’d never fucking noticed, because they’d been too excited that their beloved portal was finally working and now they could dig into their obsession all the more.

In retrospect, they should have realized Danny’s parents were ecto-contaminated far sooner. Even Box Ghost wasn’t that much of a freak for boxes.

“It’s fucking dumb,” Danny mutters, dropping down into an alley and transforming. “Fucking dead, and it’s a relief that they didn’t notice, because if my parents noticed anything about me, they’d only make my life fucking worse!” He punctuates the statement by kicking a half-crushed can as hard as he can, sending it flying directly at the wall. The clang echoes in the tight little alleyway, and again as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. He stands there, staring at the can for a moment, thinking about just letting himself cry. He imagines what would happen if he just collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing and never got up. It’s not like he has any responsibilities to get to, after all. Or, if he wanted, he could march back to the park and tell that nice lady that he’s not fine, and demand that hug she’d offered him. He’d feel dumb as hell, and it wouldn’t actually change anything, but he could.

He stoops down to pick up the can. Sam would want him to go recycle it. Superboy responds to his text with a goofy midair selfie.

* * *

Danny does not want to be doing math right now, so when his phone buzzes, he jumps at the opportunity to do literally anything else. Danny’s determined to do well in school this time around, and he’s willing to work for it, but trying to review and relearn everything he should have over the last couple years sucks. Luckily he’s found some useful resources that he can refer back to when he inevitably discovers something else he should have learned, but preparedness is definitely better than playing catch-up. He’s only going to have two years worth of high school grades, so each class is worth a lot more. Thinking about that, Danny kind of gets why Robin had offered to falsify his grades. He could only imagine how Jazz would’ve felt if her perfect GPA had been erased in Junior year.

But to Danny, the clean slate is already a boon. He’d quite literally scraped his way out of summer school by half of a percent this last year, and even though Junior Year had barely been underway when he’d fled, his grades had already been beyond recovery. And with no ghost attacks to contend with, Danny’s determined to prove he can get to college of his own accord.

Guess what! :D The message from Superboy says, when he opens it. It’s accompanied by a selfie, though it’s not taken in any of the rooms Danny’s seen in the many photos Superboy’s sent him.

Titan Tower’s been demolished and you’re all staying in Robin’s place for a week? Danny sends back immediately. He hopes that’s not actually the case, but Superboy’s always delighted whenever Danny sends him a snarky response, so he swallows the needle of anxiety. They’ve been texting for less than a week, but in that time, Superboy’s sent Danny dozens and dozens of messages. Solidly half of them are just random selfies, and the number that appear to be from inside their hero base has got to be some kind of a security problem, but Danny’s not about to challenge Superboy on it. It’s too reassuring, seeing the headquarters the teen heroes work from. Every selfie reveals more of the comfortable, spacious, and well-equipped base, and with every reveal, Danny feels a little more certain that they really aren’t being exploited.

Nope, comes the response. Then, a moment later, I’m at your new home! This is accompanied by another selfie, this one with an absolutely gorgeous framed print of the pillars of creation in the background. Danny straightens in his seat, as he stares at the message. He’d given Robin carte blanche when it came to furnishing his apartment. At the time of their conversation, he’d been overwhelmed and didn’t want to think about anything like furniture, but now that he’s had time to think he’s been feeling a little regret about it. Danny’s used to living with stuff that other people have picked out, and the idea of having control over his furniture actually does seem like it could be cool. Still, he hadn’t felt strongly enough to say anything, afraid to risk disrupting whatever work Robin had already done. Besides, he’d assumed Robin would just give him the are minimum, and he could add stuff later, when he finally had the money.

Danny’s caught between desperate gratitude and guilt. The print in the photo is beautiful, and exactly the kind of thing Danny might have chosen, but he also knows how much quality prints like that cost. He hadn’t thought about it before, but furniture has got to be expensive too, even if it’s just the bare minimum.

You still there, dude? Another text comes in and Danny moves to reply with shaking hands.

How much money are you guys spending on me?

The response isn’t immediate. Danny tries not to panic, but he can tell he’s going to fail. Instead, he shoves his stuff into his backpack as quickly as he can, holding his breath, because he absolutely can’t be trusted to stay quiet right now. He’s walking out the door to the library, when his phone finally buzzes again.

Okay so I sort of had to ask Robin why you would be worried about that, so like, sorry for the delay. There’s like a lot of gaps in my social knowledge? And I’ve never really had any control over what ppl do or don’t give me, so like. I didn’t realize that would upset you and I’m sorry? But also Robin literally said “not much, only a couple thousand” which is to say that I’m pretty sure he’s actually super rich and furnishing a home is literally peanuts to him.

Danny reads it, and then he reads it again, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he moves out of the doorway. Once he’s well away from anyone’s walking path, he lets himself collapse against the wall, sliding down until he’s curled up against the corner of the ground and wall.

It’s fine.

It’s gotta be fine. There is literally nothing in either of their behavior that has seemed even remotely cruel, and if Danny’s reading between the lines right, then Robin does this sort of thing to other people too, so it’s not even remotely about Danny. He doesn’t feel good about it, but logically it isn’t the level of problem that Danny is worried about. Danny can deal with the gross feelings. He can’t afford to do anything else, really.

After all, how the hell was gonna buy a bed? He has less than a hundred dollars to his name. Maybe he could afford it if he sold off the jewelry, but he absolutely couldn’t furnish a whole apartment. Besides, he literally asked for this. If he’s too stupid to realize the implications of asking for his apartment to be furnished, then that’s fully on him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, half on instinct, but really, what is ignoring Superboy going to accomplish?

Are you good? Do I need to find you? I haven’t gotten the hang of tracking heartbeats like Superman, but I can try? I like being your friend, please don’t let me fuck this up

Danny starts typing out a response. Deletes it. Tries again. He tries to lie and say he feels fine, but it just reminds him of the old lady’s expression the other day, and how she’d seemed more upset when he tried to brush his problems off. He takes another deep breath and tries to remember Jazz. They’d mostly avoided talking about Vlad. The whole thing was just so shitty and neither of them had the power to actually do anything, so they’d mostly pretended he didn’t exist, and Danny had done his best to play off the worst of his behavior. There had been one time, though. When Jazz had come home, upset about some conflict with a friend, and she had turned on him about it, lecturing him about boundaries and how important it is to tell people if you feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t explicitly said Vlad’s name but, well, who else could she have been talking about? So Danny forcibly gulps air down, and he tries to explain.

I’m not mad at you? Danny writes. I just - have a history with, like, gifts, and the idea of anyone spending much money on me makes me feel gross. Like in a ‘how is this gonna be held over me’ sort of way, y’know? He has to back up and rephrase a couple times, but eventually he feels like his response makes sense, so he hits send.

Crisis somewhat quelled, Danny gulps down another breath, and pushes himself back to his feet. There’s a mom nearby staring at him, though her kid seems focused on the book in their hands, so he mutters sorry, and starts heading down the street.

Oh. Yeah, I think I get that. Superboy’s response is quicker this time. Can I, like, tell that to Robin? He might have an idea of how to make it not-a-gift?

Sure, Danny responds. I think I’m gonna go for a run, so if I don’t respond, don’t stress out.

* * *

When Danny finishes his run, he’s got a picture from Superboy of an absolutely adorable dog, and one single message from Robin that reads Don’t worry. Meet us at Emery Park at 5. We can discuss the logistics of it then. Robin’s absolutely tragic reassurance doesn’t really make him feel better, but it is sort of amusingly Robin-like, so at least there’s that. Danny has no intentions of trying to study now though, so instead he just wanders the park for a while, before slipping off to transform. When he comes back in his ghost form, he feels incredibly conspicuous and pretty much everyone seems to notice him. Mostly they just smile and nod in his direction, but one person actually comes up to him.

“Hey, uh. My sister was one of the people you saved last month, so like, thank you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if she’d-” They cut themselves off with a choked noise, and they absolutely look like they’re about to start crying. Danny gets it; he knows full well what happened in the world where something happened to his sister, but he also has no idea how to reassure them.

“I’m very glad I was able to help,” Danny tries. “Um, how is your sister?” Good, that’s how to be empathetic, right?

“Ah, well you know. The smoke inhalation had her laid up for a bit, but honestly I think she was more upset about losing her home, you know? But she’s staying with me for now, so we’ll figure things out.”

“That’s good,” Danny nods. They’re not wrong; losing your home sucks. But this random person absolutely does not need to be subjected to Danny’s long list of misfortune. Luckily they take their leave after that, though whether it’s a result of Danny’s expression or their own emotions, he’s not sure.

Nobody else approaches him in the time it takes for Superboy to flip over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Superboy says, grinning as he lands in front of Danny. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Not much,” Danny says. “It’s really not been a productive day.”

“Shit, sorry.” Superboy winces.

“Nah, even before that, I was trying to review math, so like. Focus has been majorly my enemy, you know?”

“Ready to start school, then?” Robin asks from where he’s walked up to stand by Danny.

“Eh, probably not ever gonna be, so it might as well happen.”

“Right, well everything is ready, so if you’d like to adjourn to the apartment to discuss specifics?” Danny nods, and follows as they head off again.

Instead of walking, Robin pulls out a literal zip-line, and they quite literally take to the rooftops, all the way to a nice-looking brick building, not far from the center of town. Danny would wager that it’s within a ten minute walk of the library and the nearest grocery store, which is pretty sweet. Danny can even see little balconies along the front, as they approach which is pretty cool. so he might even get a view. Instead of heading to the front of the building, Robin drops down to street level, and Danny finds himself in a little parking garage when he follows.

“We’re less likely to get spotted this way,” Robin explains as he walks through the parking lot. “I’ll erase the security footage of us, but the less people know we came here, the safer your identity is.”

“Makes sense,” Danny says. “I can, um, make you guys invisible, but I’d have to be touching you to do it.”

“By all means.” Robin says, staring Danny down.

“Cool, um,” Danny glances over at Superboy, who nods, so he reaches out to grip their wrists carefully, and lets his invisibility wash over all three of them. He lets Robin lead them through the door, and up three flights of stairs. He stops in front of a door labelled 305, and a moment later, the door is open and the three of them are stepping inside. Danny drops his grip on them as the door closes, taking in the room around him.

Danny’s half-formulated fear of some fancy, swagged-out apartment that constantly reminds him of Robin’s generosity seems ridiculous in the face of the cozy, simply appointed living space in front of him. Instead of a table, there’s a small bar area built into the kitchen with a couple of comfortable-looking stools, and the couch in the living room looks comfortably worn, so Robin must have gotten it secondhand. The decorations aren’t extravagant either. The framed print Danny had seen earlier sits proudly on the wall behind the couch, but aside from that there’s only a couple minor decorations, and a lamp.

He turns to look back at Robin, who immediately steps forward and holds up a key ring.

“This key gets you into the building, this one is to your apartment, and this one is to your mailbox. There’s also a bike room in the parking garage we walked through. That’s what this last key is for, though I would advise still using a bike lock if you decide to get one.” He holds it out, after he finishes, and Danny nods, trying to commit each key to memory. After a moment, Robin continues.

“Your lease is in the folder on the counter, along with your personal documentation and a couple other things. As far as the funding of this is concerned, I took the slight liberty of forward-funding this with your theoretical payout for the assistance you provided during the train crash last month. So, if and when you decide to legally declare your hero identity, I’ll back-file the paperwork for that.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He looks around the room again, and then back at Robin. The internet had been entirely unclear if Robin had any powers, but Danny’s decided he’s got to be psychic. There’s no other way he could have planned this all out so perfectly. “Okay, that’s, um. That definitely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve gotta see your bedroom, though!” Superboy explains, grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him down the hallway, and through the last door.

The bedroom that greets him is similarly balanced as the living area. The comforter alone makes Danny pause. As long as he can remember, he’d always secretly wanted a space-themed comforter, but he’d only ever seen the goofy ones made for little kids, but this comforter is decorated with an absolutely gorgeous cover; the star-spattered blue-black of outer space giving way at the bottom edge to a view of the earth itself, atmosphere pale against the onslaught of space. It’s gorgeous, and doesn’t make Danny feel childish at all. The wall behind the headboard is similarly impressive, with what has to be a composite print of high quality images of every major body in the galaxy, from the sun itself to the dwarf planet Pluto (Danny hadn’t been certain how to feel about that particular difference in classification when he’d first arrived, but he’s come around to it by now).

“Do you like it?” Superboy asks.

“It’s amazing,” Danny says. Stepping forward and falling onto his new bed. “I actually can’t believe this is all mine.”

“Your name’s the one on the lease,” Robin says. “Although please do let me know if you have a hard time making payments. I’m more than happy to assist, and if you need to make it a loan to feel comfortable, we work that out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny says, looking around the space again. He feels a lot less anxious just being in this space. Vlad would never have done anything like this. If he’d ever been inclined to get Danny an apartment, there would have been reminders of him everywhere. It’s not even like the kind of unwanted stuff Sam would throw at him and Tucker. This whole apartment really feels like it’s meant to be his.

“There’s also the beginnings of a wardrobe in the closet. Not much since I wasn’t certain of style preferences, but a few basics and a couple nice shirts for any job interviews and the like.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He really should think of better responses to what Robin says, but he keeps saying things Danny hadn’t even considered.

“Similarly, there’s some food essentials in the kitchen. We can always take anything you dislike to a food bank.” Robin continues, unhindered. “And the secondary bedroom is currently set up to be an office. Since you’re doing the school from home option, I decided it was worthwhile to set up a separate space for you to do that from. Separating work and relaxation spaces can go a long way to not going insane.”

“Oh.” Danny feels like a broken record.

“Furthermore, to head off any concerns, the laptop is one of my old ones that was sitting unused in storage. The planner, however, is new, and it is a gift.” Robin says, his mouth turning up into a slight smile. Keeping track of what you have to do is the most difficult part of online school, and the planner should help with that. Just don’t get caught up in trying to use it the right way. Whatever works best for you is the correct way.”

“Damn dude,” Superboy says, staring at his friend. “How are you gonna go and make school sound like it’s kinda fun?”

“If you’re interested, I could get you signed up as well.” Robin’s response comes immediately.

“We should order pizza,” Danny says, flopping onto the couch. “Gotta hang out now before I get too busy with school.”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #the one where danny stumbles into a new universe and immediately guns for NASA #Am I putting far too much thought into minor aspects of governmental policy that will quite literally never be explored in detail?#yes #will i stop? no #this fic has officially decimated my original outline #but I think the direction it's going is well worth it #and I promise we will eventually get to space camp

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lucysarah-c · 2 days ago

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Hii lovely. I love your posts! I have a bit of a NSFW question, what do you think Levis dick size is 😭 I've been thinking about it, cause he's kinda short so🥱 I hope you answer so BAAAD if you do, pls tag💗💗 keep up the good work!

Hi, sweetie! How are you? Oh, thank you so much for saying that-it truly means a lot to me.

Okay, controversial take, but I don't think Levi's height has anything to do with his dick. I know some people like to make that correlation-like, "Oh, he's short, so he must have a small dick" or whatever. But no, sorry to disappoint, that's not it.

How do I put this... Have you ever seen that video of Lionel Messi walking around? Because that man is short, but his dick is definitely not small, if you know what I mean.

I don't think Levi is huge huge, but he's definitely above average. I'd say somewhere between 17 to 20 cm -big, but not too big. At least from my personal experience, that's what I'd imagine. I also think it's thicker than long, very pale, with soft pink undertones, and kind of veiny, which makes it look even bigger. Basically, above slightly above average but good.

And if you've seen that Messi thing I'm talking about -it was all over my Twitter when I still had an account-you know what I mean. Height can sometimes be related, but not always. Coming from the girly community of a country with shorter men, I can tell you it's not a strict rule.

Anyway, I won't go on because I feel like I'm over-sharing at this point. Have a lovely day or night! Kisses!

Oh, and I'll be answering this one soon. Thank you for all your kind words-I hope you have a lovely weekend!

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suzukiblu · 16 hours ago

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WIP excerpt behind the cut; “the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“It usually involves taking care of the sub for a little while–like if they need to recover or if the Dom needs something to calm themselves down doing, for example–but there’s other ways and reasons to do it,” Tim says, stroking his hair just a little bit more carefully as Kon once again tries and fails to figure out what the fuck he’s feeling right now. “That’s just what most people think of first when it comes up. Supposed to just make it easier for everyone to come up and level out, basically.”

Tim’s been petting him all this time, Kon realizes, biting the inside of his lip again.

And then he realizes–Tim’s also been the only one talking to him about this. Like, the “polite intel-collecting/light interrogation” kind of talking, but definitely only Tim doing it. So, like–Tim thinks this is something to be careful about talking about, and apparently so does Bernard.

. . . weird, Kon thinks, ducking his head just enough to hide his mouth against his folded forearms as he bites his lip outright, and doesn’t know how he feels about that either.

He thinks maybe they’re doing that–“gentle” thing again, though, even though they’re not even actually fucking around right now. Like . . . like just being in bed together at all is reason enough to do it, or something. Like it’s just–like it matters enough to keep doing it either way.

Kon knows exactly how he feels about that, but that’d be a lot more than just “mortifying” to admit.

“Um . . . sorry,” he says, half-worrying about what Tim means by needing to calm himself down. The times he’s tried to Dom made him all anxious and nervy and filled his head up with even more useless circling thoughts than usual, so like . . . does that happen to Tim too? It hadn’t seemed like it was, but . . . “Should I be–doing something for you, you mean? Because I can–”

A flash of stress flickers across Tim’s face, and Kon cuts himself off and feels a little–stupid, maybe, like he’s said something wrong or just messed up something obvious or . . .

He bites his lip harder and a weird little–reflex, almost, has him glancing towards Bernard for . . . he’s not even sure why, just . . . Bernard would know what Tim needs right now, wouldn’t he? Like–he’d have to, right?

Bernard’s still just standing by the nightstand and the breakfast tray, but the moment Kon looks at him he gives an easy shrug, scoops up the middle plate, and manages to neatly deposit it in Tim’s lap even as he lays down on his other side, stretched out on his own stomach and propped up on his elbows. Kon feels–something, kind of, and thinks about how that puts them both kinda . . . parallel to each other, kinda. Just . . . mirrored, a little, both lying on either side of Tim where he’s sitting against the headboard.

That’s . . . kinda something he feels something about, yeah, but it’s another one of those “something”s he can’t seem to really pin down, because everything he thinks it’s making him feel is, like . . . not actually something that makes sense for him to be feeling.

Kryptonite, he remembers abruptly. Right. So like . . . that. That’s probably . . . why he thinks he’s feeling . . . that kind of thing. Like–how Kara was saying, and all.

Right?

“Yes, you should be lying right there and letting Tim fuss over you for a while,” Bernard informs him matter-of-factly, crossing his ankles behind himself and resting his chin in one hand. “He likes doing the fussing. Though personally post-subbing is literally the only time I don’t wanna cuddle, I just wanna eat the fridge and pass the fuck out on the couch, so it’s really always been an unfortunate waste of the opportunity for me and also, like, not Tim’s favorite way to spend a scene’s afterglow either.”

“Oh,” Kon says, mildly bemused by the idea of passing out on the couch after subbing instead of cuddling up with someone in bed. Like–wanting to pass out on the couch, at least. Like, that is just very much not how he feels after subbing, is all. But, well . . . if that’s all Tim needs from him . . . like, it’s not exactly an imposition or anything. “Seriously? Just . . . the fussing?”

“Seriously,” Bernard confirms with a nod without bothering to lift his chin from his hand. “He literally always wants to do the fussing. Like he is definitely the ‘needs to calm down’ guy, and also the ‘subtly make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt or upset you when you were too high on endorphins to communicate it’ guy.”

“Yeah, sounds like Tim,” Kon says, lifting his own head a little more again just to spare Tim a wry look. “‘Shit, that went way too well, lemme get all Bat-paranoia up in here and overanalyze the whole thing’.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Tim says, looking a little wry himself, and Kon–like, yeah, he’s teasing the guy about it, because when would he not take the opportunity to give Tim shit, but he still definitely feels some shit about the fact that Tim would bother worrying about him like that. Like–the “gentle” thing again, he guesses. It’s just . . . not something he needs, and obviously Tim knows that, because a) invulnerable and b) they’re literally just fucking around for the weekend, it’s not like they’re doing anything serious or whatever, but the fact that Tim’s bothering to do it anyway is just . . . yeah.

He just–doesn’t have to, is all. He doesn’t have to, but he still is. Still is, and still told his boyfriend to be.

“You are a total Bat, but fuck if I'm gonna complain about scorin’ some free attention,” Kon tells him with a teasing smirk. Even if “getting attention” wasn’t half the foundation of his core personality, getting Tim’s attention would still be a goddamn treat, any time. Like–it always is, seriously. So yeah, Kon is in no way above indulging in a little extra of it. As far as doing something for Tim, it’s basically the easiest thing the guy could possibly ask for. Normally Kon’d say it was the best thing the guy could possibly ask for, even, but given the radioactive gay space rock currently influencing his tastes and his preferred flavor of his favorite pastime, any current contenders for the “best” thing Tim could possibly ask for would definitely need the other’s dick to get involved again.

Like. To the fucking hilt levels of involved, specifically.

Definitely to the fucking hilt.

“Jesus, that noise is fucking adorable,” Bernard mutters under his breath, which is the only reason Kon notices himself purring again, which–oh. That wasn’t, like . . . on purpose or anything. Generally he tries to avoid any of the “don’t sound entirely human” vocal tics, though admittedly he probably does purr the most. Just, like . . . usually he decides to let himself do it, is all.

“Vegas party favors don’t do ‘adorable’, man,” he hums around another purr, because . . . well, Bernard seems like he’s kinda into the purring, so it’s not like he’s gotta, like–stop, or whatever. And Tim’s heard him do it before and not gotten weirded-out, so . . . so it’s whatever, yeah. No big deal or anything.

Anyway, it feels nice to, sometimes. Especially when he feels like this does it feel nice to.

And, like, extra-especially when Tim’s still petting his hair for it.

“I think I can literally feel the bed vibrating a little,” Bernard says, looking low-key delighted about it. “Definitely tell me how I earn this level of purring while TTK-cuddling, because that is very much my new goal for this long weekend.”

“Mmm, s’secret lore, man,” Kon hums, letting his eyes close as he settles in a little heavier against the bed with a pleased little buzzing feeling in his gut and along his skin. “You gotta grind enough hours to level up and earn it.”

“I will grind on you for all the hours that standard-build human stamina can handle and Konami code your ass if I gotta,” Bernard swears, and Kon laughs into his arms. Why is this dude so funny, Jesus.

“That sounds kinda fun, what’d that involve?” he muses speculatively.

“Some very specific and very decisive button-pressing, pretty much,” Bernard says, and Kon laughs again. “Maybe some converter cables and a rumble controller.”

Kon sniggers. Goddammit, the bastard really is so funny, what the fuck.

“I think the gay space rock’s done plenty of converting, but if you really wanna plug something in . . .” he hums, making a point of stretching out a bit more against the mattress, and accidentally purrs a little deeper without meaning to.

“Desperately, yes,” Bernard says, sounding very feeling about it. So like, that’s another nice little bit of flattery. “Hey babe, how long do I have to wait to plug and play with your bestie? Like, ballpark it for us.”

“Maybe eat breakfast first?” Tim suggests wryly. “I hear the chef makes pretty good waffles.”

“Honestly they’re pretty mid compared to the cake that’s currently taking up a truly impressive amount of real estate in this bed,” Bernard replies frankly, making a point of reaching across Tim’s legs to grab Kon’s ass and give it a pointedly appreciative jiggle as he says “cake”, and Kon laughs helplessly into his arms. But, like–also tilts his ass up into said hand, obviously. Like, just a little. Bernard’s nice enough to give it an appreciative squeeze in response to that, so Kon figures that’s a win. “On that note, Tim, your bed is just not worthy of this long weekend, you really should upgrade. Like, no rush or anything, just maybe by Valentine’s Day. Your birthday at the latest.”

At this rate, Kon isn’t gonna manage to stop laughing long enough to eat a single damn waffle.

#timberkon #timkon #konbern #timbern #kon el #conner kent #tim drake #bernard dowd #superboy #dc robin #wip: think pink #dom/sub

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aerial-aceing-it · 3 days ago

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// WAAA THANK YOU,, THATS SO KIND !!! THAT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME IM GLAD YOU LIKE MARV AND HIS SILLY LITTLE BIRD,,

RIGHT BACK AT U!! I absolutely ADOREEEEE Angie and Tia, they r just. GAH I LOVE THEM. Angie is so lovely !! Tia is just the best too AAA- The Werepersian arc was so so so cool I still think abt it very fondly :]!!!!!

I have a poor memory and I’m bad at compliments but I’ll try and get as many people as I can !!! I adore this community so fucking much dude it’s been an absolute joy, a delight, and an honor to roleplay some silly little guys with all of you!!

@nacrenecitygardening MY WONDERFUL FRIEND WHO IS SO GOOD AT THIS . It’s been so cool to see your story unfold !! I’m absolutely honored to have some behind the scenes knowledge and I’m so excited to see how it all turns out!! ALSO @/completelylusingit THE WAY I CHEERED WHEN YOU TOLD ME HE GOT HIS BLOG BACK. RETURN OF THE KING. Everyone keep your eyes on their blogs bc they are SUCHHH a talented storyteller and I’m HYPED for Lus’s stuff to kick off !!

@disparate-traveller while Diamond has departed from the pkmn irl universe, their blog is still active!!! My good and wonderful friend Tori has a ton of blogs you can find over at @/twodragons-blooper-reel and ALLLL of them are worth a follow !!! They are so good at making their characters fleshed out and wonderful individuals <33 !!! @celadon-arcade-champ GO FOLLOW SYD RN I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. GO GO GO THEY JUST BOUGHT A HOUSE!!

@friendball-irl / @oh-hey-its-gray WHERE WOULD MARVIN BE W/OUT YOU,, despite Gray being inactive atm I know their mun and just. Guys. Cube is such a wonderful human being and just. I owe so much of the joys I’ve experienced in this community to them and their silly little guy!! I fucking love Gray with all my heart,, I look back so fondly on all of the interactions my guys have gotten with him because each one has been an utter delight !! Also the RAD arc was probably one of my favorite things I’ve had Marv participate in like. That was so cool. The Alpha Steelix incident? THAT WAS SO COOL. GAH. I LOVED THAT SM.

@nanaboo-pumpkaboo how could I not mention Silas like . Cmon. I only started following him recently but I have been enamored ever since !! I am throwing him around like a well loved hacky sack. I’m so concerned for his wellbeing but I am SO EXCITED FOR WHAT YOU’RE PLANNING. The build up has been immaculate !!

@ariadosanon What to say about THE Victoria Gonzap that hasn’t been said already,, She is just something else, and I fucking love her to bits. Like. Shes SUCH A WELL ROUNDED CHARACTER I CANNOT emphasize that enough. She has so many complexities and nooks and crannies to her and she’s just. Shes such a good character. SHES SO WELL WRITTEN. AND SHES PURPLE!!!!! AA!! You have seriously made one gem of a character!!!!!!!!!

Im sorry if i missed anyone but !! Aa !! all of you out there in rotomblr are so so so cool and it brings me so much joy to see how this community has grown!!! I’m so glad yall r having fun !! Keep it up and keep telling your stories !! Much love <3!!!!!

// what if we all tagged our favorite blogs and went to check eachother's favorite blogs out as a result of tagging our favorite blogs. what then

#// ooc post #// I didn’t expect to be tagged so thank u so much this has made my DAY

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arc852 · 3 days ago

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Fault 3/3

Summary: Joel and Jimmy finally have that talk.

Warnings: self-blame, self-deprecation, slight anger and jealousy, and crying

Word Count: 4649

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link

Sorry this took so long! My brain has been mush when it's come to writing lately. But it's finally done! I hope you guys enjoy!

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Tango kept the hand holding Jimmy close to his chest as his other hand curled around him in the front, blocking him from view. He walked down the hallway, doing his best to keep steady and being wary and mindful of his surroundings. His eyes were constantly looking around the hall, just waiting for someone’s door to open or for someone to round the corner. Thankfully, the hallway stayed empty as Tango completed the short journey to Grian and Joel’s door.

After giving one last glance toward both ends of the hallway, he removed the hand curled around the front of Jimmy in order to use it to knock on the door. Though his hand quickly returned back to position right after. He looked down, sharing a small glance with Jimmy in the short time they were waiting for an answer. Jimmy smiled up at him and Tango couldn’t help but smile back.

His eyes snapped back up to the door though as it opened to reveal Grian. “Oh, hey!” Grian said with a small smile.

“Hey, Grian! I’m guessing Joel told you, I mean, it’d be weird if he didn’t, but I was hanging out with Jimmy and am just here to drop him back off.” Tango explained and then once again lifted his curled hand to reveal the borrower. Jimmy waved at Grian and Grian’s smile widened a bit more as he saw him.

“Yeah, Joel told me. You guys were gone for longer than I thought you’d be though. You guys have fun?” Grian asked though Tango knew the question was mostly directed at Jimmy. So Tango kept quiet as he let Jimmy answer.

“Yeah! It was great!” Jimmy exclaimed. Tango could feel his heart warm at the confirmation that Jimmy had just as much fun as he had. He nodded along in agreement, once again letting his eyes wander down to Jimmy, looking at him fondly.

Movement, however, caught his attention and he looked back up to see Grian holding out his hand. Ah, right. He got the hint. He hesitated for only a moment before he carefully moved his own hand, the one holding Jimmy of course, up against Grian’s in order to give Jimmy the chance to swap hands. He watched as Jimmy stood, stumbling just slightly but quickly catching his balance, and walked onto Grian’s hand.

Tango patiently waited, only taking his hand back once he was sure Jimmy was fully settled onto Grian’s. As he moved his hand back to his side, Grian gave him a strange look, an almost confused looking one. Tango blinked, having no idea what that kind of look could be for and feeling just as confused himself.

He decided to ignore it, turning his attention back to Jimmy instead.

“Thanks again for hanging out with me Jimmy.” Tango said with a hint of shyness in his smile, rubbing the back of his head. “It really was fun.”

“We’ll have to do it again!” Jimmy said and once again Tango felt his chest warm again, feeling a bit lighter knowing Jimmy wanted to hang out with him again. Tango grinned as he felt himself bounce a bit at the thought.

“Absolutely.” Tango agreed.

“You’re welcome to come around any time, Tango.” Grian said as he moved the hand holding Jimmy close to his chest, mirroring the way Tango had been holding him just a moment ago. “Just give us a bit of warning first.”

“Of course! I’ll shoot you guys a text if I ever feel like I need some Jimmy and me time.” Tango joked, which was followed by Jimmy laughing. Tango grinned, proud of himself for making Jimmy laugh like that.

As Jimmy’s laughter died down, he looked back up at Tango. “And I’ll have Joel or Grian send a text if I feel the same.” He was grinning, following along with Tango’s joke, but like Tango, also being completely honest.

“Sounds like a plan then.” Tango said, shooting Jimmy with a single finger gun and a wink, which made Jimmy chuckle once again. Tango’s grin then lessened only slightly as he continued. “Good luck by the way, with the…ya know.” Tango said, being vague since he wasn’t sure if Jimmy wanted him to be the one to tell Grian about the talk Jimmy was planning on having with Joel or not.

Grian looked between the two of them in confusion but Jimmy just nodded. “Thanks.” He said simply and Tango knew he was probably correct in not saying anything. He’s sure once Jimmy and Grian were in private that Jimmy would ask for his help and advice in going about it though.

“Course.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Well, I better get going. I’ll see you later?” Tango still asked, maybe just wanting that little bit of extra confirmation even if he didn’t really need it.

“See you later!” Jimmy said, excitement flickering in his eyes at the thought.

“See you around.” Grian chimed in and Tango gave him a nod and a smile too.

Tango backed away from the door as Grian made to close it. Sending one last wave to the two, though mostly Jimmy, right before the door closed fully. He let out a little happy sigh and was about to start walking back to his dorm before he paused, hearing footsteps behind him. He couldn’t help but turn back around, only to see none other than Joel round the corner.

They both froze as their eyes locked and Tango was suddenly reminded of the bit of hostility Joel had shown toward him earlier.

Joel, meanwhile, as soon as he had seen Tango, tried his best to keep his face carefully neutral. Just because he knew what and why he was feeling the way he was, did not mean he was done with feeling them. No matter how much he didn’t want to feel it, he still felt that spark of jealousy rush through him at the sight of his friend.

Joel took a deep breath, trying his best to not let his feelings get the better of him this time. As he did so, his eyes wandered down from Tango’s face to his hands but they appeared to be empty. Considering he was at Joel’s door, he could only assume he had already dropped Jimmy off. Unless Jimmy was in Tango’s pocket, but Joel highly doubted that, what with the way Tango was currently hoodie-less.

Joel looked back up to meet Tango’s eyes again, wincing as Tango’s eyes seemed to dart between him and the opposite end of the hall. Yeah, fair enough. But even still, Joel had to make things right. And not just with Jimmy. So, Joel was the first one to move, coming closer to both Tango and his door.

“Tango.” Joel greeted with a nod, stopping only a few feet in front of Tango. He kept his voice low, not wanting Grian or Jimmy to overhear and open the door before he had a chance to talk with Tango a bit.

Tango nodded back. “Joel.” He then titled his head. “What are you doing out here?” Tango asked. He had been under the impression that he was inside the dorm already, though he supposed it made sense now that Grian was the one to open the door.

Joel simply shrugged. “Needed a walk.” He mumbled a bit, turning his gaze away for a moment. He had been hoping to be back before Tango dropped Jimmy off, but the walk had been good for him and he’s sure this talk would be too. He just…had to get himself to the actual talking part. He flicked his eyes back toward Tango.

“I’m…sorry. About earlier.” Joel said, watching closely as Tango’s eyes widened a bit, not having expected the apology. It looked as though Tango wanted to say something but Joel continued before Tango could, wanting to finish the apology first. “I was angry and-and scared. And…maybe a bit jealous too,” he mumbled that bit more to himself, though Tango still clearly heard it. “But I shouldn’t have acted that way toward you either way. So…yeah. Sorry.” He finished lamely.

His gaze had drifted to looking at anything other than Tango when he started speaking, afraid of how Tango might react to his apology. A hand suddenly came down onto his shoulder, causing Joel to jump and finally drift his gaze back up to Tango’s face. Joel looked at Tango with wide eyes but felt relieved to see a soft smile had settled on Tango’s features. “Hey, I’m not saying this excuses all that but…I get it dude. Trust me.” Tango said before letting his smile grow a bit more. “And I forgive you.”

Joel…had honestly not expected to be forgiven so easily. Especially with such a bad apology. But Tango didn’t seem like he was lying. Well, if that was the case, this went way better than he thought it was going to. Hopefully that was foreshadowing for his talk with Jimmy. “Thanks.” Joel said after a moment, letting himself smile back at Tango.

“Dude, of course. You’re my friend and clearly going through something. Of course I’m gonna forgive you.” Tango said before taking his hand off of Joel’s shoulder. “Maybe just ease up on the snappiness next time?”

Joel winced but nodded. “Yeah, no, totally.” He could do that.

Tango nodded. “Then we’re all good.”

Man, Joel had the best friends a guy like him could want, huh?

Grian, Jimmy, Impulse and Tango, they were all there for him in different ways and maybe Joel was just now fully realizing that. Speaking of Impulse though, Joel reminded himself of his earlier conversation with him. “Hey uh, I actually ran into Impulse while I was out walking. He said we should plan to hang out, the four of us. Would uh, would you be…down?”

Tango grinned. “Yeah man, that sounds fun!”

Joel smiled, why had he been so nervous to ask? “We’ll have to text about it later then.” He was looking forward to it, the four of them hanging out. It…would be nice if Jimmy could join them, but obviously that probably wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

Joel glanced over at his door, his smile fading a bit as he realized it was probably time to head in. He sighed. “Well…I better get in there. I have a uh…a talk I gotta have with Jimmy.”

Tango’s eyes widened, surprised but happy that Joel seemed to be taking the initiative to speak with Jimmy about how he’s been acting. At least, that’s what Tango’s assuming the talk is going to be about. He’ll have to ask Jimmy about it later, but he’s pretty sure considering Joel had already taken the initiative with Tango himself. Tango smiled.

“Good luck.” Tango said. “But I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Joel hummed, a lot of thoughts circling in his head. “You think?”

Tango shrugged. “I know.”

Joel bit his lip, not knowing how Tango could possibly know. “How?” He asked and Tango raised his eyebrow, sending him a look.

“Cause it’s Jimmy.” Tango said and oh. Yeah. Tango did actually have a point there. At the very least, it made Joel feel a bit better about all this.

“Right.” He said. “Right.” This was Jimmy and he knew Jimmy. Things would be okay. He just had to keep telling himself that. “I’ll catch you later then.”

“See ya.” Tango said with a little wave before turning around and heading back to his dorm. Joel watched him go for a moment, but didn’t wait for Tango to turn the corner before unlocking his door and heading inside.

As he closed the door behind him, his ears perked up at the sound of a few hushed voices. He turned around and scanned the room, only to see Grian and Jimmy at Grian’s desk. Grian was leaned back in his chair, his laptop open but pushed back to give Jimmy room to stand where the laptop had once been. They appeared to be talking, but when Joel walked a bit further into the room they paused and looked over at him.

Well, now Joel just felt awkward.

Grian gave Joel a little head nod in greeting before turning back to Jimmy. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” He said before pushing off the desk and standing up. He walked past Joel, Joel moving out of the way when he realized Grian was heading for the door.

Joel glanced over at Jimmy and then back to Grian, confused in more ways than one. “Where are you going?” Joel asked, but Grian just shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Just giving you two some privacy.” Was all Grian said before he was gone. Joel hearing the lock click into place.

“Right…” Joel muttered to himself. He had half expected Grian to stick around for Joel’s talk with Jimmy, Grian could be nosy like that sometimes. But he was glad Grian decided to leave it to them this time. He mentally braced himself before turning to look back at Jimmy. He was still in the same spot, looking up at Joel with eyes filled with what seemed to be…determination? Weird.

Joel took in a deep breath, psyching himself up for this. He took a few steps closer, until he was right up against Grian’s chair. He gripped the top of it to ground himself and was just about to open his mouth and start talking when, surprisingly, Jimmy beat him to it.

“Joel…what’s been going on with you lately?” Jimmy asked, not unkindly but Joel couldn’t help but tense up anyway. “Because you’ve just seemed kind of…off lately.” Jimmy continued. Joel wanted to cover his face in his hands and groan and had to fight the urge to do so. Was he just…that obvious? At the very least he thought he was doing a good job of hiding it from Jimmy. But apparently not. And that just made him feel even worse.

Joel let out a deep sigh. At least Jimmy bringing it up first gave him a good place to start. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Joel said and suddenly he couldn’t look into Jimmy’s eyes anymore. “I…I’m sorry.”

Jimmy blinked, looking confused all of a sudden. “You’re sorry? For what?”

Joel winced. “For what happened. For not…for letting you fall out of my pocket.” Joel said, his grip around the back of Grian’s chair becoming tighter. He let his eyes wander back to the borrower, too curious of Jimmy’s reaction. When he saw that Jimmy’s eyes were wide with what Joel could only assume was surprise, well, Joel couldn’t say he had been expecting that.

“For letting me-what? Joel, you didn’t let anything happen, it was an accident!” Jimmy exclaimed, raising his hands up as he did. His hands quickly fell and Jimmy’s wide-eyed expression grew softer, sadder. “You do know that right? That it wasn’t your fault.”

Joel was silent. He couldn’t very well answer that the way Jimmy wanted him to without lying.

Jimmy seemed to deflate at his silence. “Joel…”

“It’s hard to see how it isn’t my fault.” Joel said after a few moments of silence had passed. Joel had done everything wrong. He hadn’t been careful, he had been going too fast, he hadn’t had his hand in the pocket with Jimmy…Everything pointed to him being the one at fault for what had happened.

Jimmy looked at Joel sadly, mind racing for something he could do. As the idea came to him, he stood up straighter, his determination back like a fire. “Joel.” Jimmy said in order to gain back Joel’s attention. As soon as the human’s eyes were back on him, Jimmy continued. “Come here.” Jimmy practically ordered. Joel blinked, taken aback by the sudden command but he obeyed. Stepping around the chair and coming right up next to the desk, looming over Jimmy in a way that Joel usually tried to avoid nowadays.

Jimmy nodded at him but he was far from done. “Hand.” Jimmy said next, pointing to right in front of him. Joel was still trying to figure out where this was going but he laid his hand flat at where Jimmy had pointed anyway, his palm up. As soon as his hand had come to a stop, Jimmy wasted no time climbing up and onto Joel’s hand. He took a seat in the center of Joel’s palm before looking back up at him. “Up.”

Joel couldn’t help the deadpan look and the slight curve of his lips even as he did what Jimmy asked. “I’m not a dog you know.” Joel said quietly, just a hint of his usual sarcasm. Jimmy also let his lips curve into a brief smile before his features schooled back into his look of determination. Joel brought him up, making sure his hand was as steady as ever before stopping at chest level. But it seemed like that wasn’t enough.

“Higher.” Jimmy said, still pointing up. Joel did so, bringing his hand to eye level. “Now closer.” Jimmy said and Joel was getting increasingly more and more confused about what the heck Jimmy was doing. But he continued to do as Jimmy said. He brought Jimmy closer to his face and paused when any closer would have Jimmy actually touching his face.

Though that seemed to be exactly Jimmy’s plan.

As soon as he stopped his hand, Jimmy stood up and went forward, gripping the top sides of his nose. The sudden closeness of the borrower forced Joel to look at him cross-eyed and caused him to tense, not expecting Jimmy to do something like that. He was afraid that one wrong twitch would have Jimmy falling so he carefully moved his other hand underneath the one holding Jimmy, just in case. “J-Jimmy?” Joel stuttered out, wondering what the heck the borrower was doing.

He could feel the slight pressure on his nose increase just a bit more as Jimmy looked him right in the eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.” Jimmy said sternly, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

Joel tried anyway. “But-”

“Nope,” Jimmy cut him off. “It wasn’t your fault and I don’t blame you for it. Of course I don’t blame you for it, it was an accident.” Jimmy’s expression turned sad once more, though his determination hadn’t gone away either. “And I’m fine. Everything worked out and nothing too bad actually happened.”

Joel couldn’t help but look away, huffing a bit. Though it was hard when he couldn’t move his head and Jimmy was literally taking up almost his entire vision. “Only because of Tango…” Joel muttered. But of course, Jimmy heard it and it caused his previous look of confusion to come back.

“Wait, what?” Jimmy asked. He briefly leaned back due to his confusion but very quickly went back and leaned in even closer, forcing Joel to look back at him again. “What about Tango?”

What about Tango? Did Jimmy not see it? The fact that Tango was the whole reason Jimmy was even okay in the first place? “Come on, Jim. The only reason ‘nothing too bad’ even happened was because Tango was there to save you.” Joel said, a lot more snappy than he had wanted.

Jimmy blinked and the fact that Joel was making Jimmy so confused was starting to get to him a bit. “And you’re…upset with Tango because of that?” Okay, when Jimmy said it like that it really didn’t make any sense. No wonder Jimmy was so confused.

Joel winced and sighed and if Jimmy wasn’t right up on his face he would have used his free hand to rub at his face. “No. Yes? It’s…complicated?” Joel was doing a terrible job explaining this so far. “...That was one of the other things I wanted to bring up, actually.”

In order to continue talking properly though, he needed Jimmy not so close to his face. So, carefully, he brought his free hand up and pinched Jimmy’s sides. He didn’t use the pinched grip to lift him though, just to move him away from his face and back into the center of his palm. Jimmy tensed slightly as Joel’s fingers pinched him but otherwise he simply let it happen. As soon as Jimmy was away from his face, he let go of his pinched grip and then brought his hand farther down so it was resting back at chest level.

“There’s…a lot more I have to bring up too.” Joel said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I ran into Impulse earlier and he helped me figure out what to say but it’s still…hard.” He finished lamely before sighing again. “But yeah, I think I’ve been feeling a bit…jealous lately. Of Tango.”

“Jealous? Because he was the one who saved me?” Jimmy asked, still looking just as confused as he sounded. Joel shrugged.

“I mean, yeah…” Joel groaned and shook his head. Why were feelings so hard to explain? “But also like today, you wanted to hang out with him. And…and maybe it was my fault for assuming, but I really thought you would say no to him? Because of what happened? And when you didn’t, I just…I don’t know. I was upset.”

“...I did notice that you didn’t seem to want me to go with Tango.” Jimmy said after a moment.

Joel winced. Yet another thing he hadn’t hid as well as he thought he had. “I’m sorry.” Gosh, why was he so bad at this? “But that’s not all of it. I’ve been mad at myself because I blame myself for what happened, I’ve been jealous of Tango for being the one to save you, but I’ve also been…” Joel trailed off, looking away.

Jimmy stood up in Joel’s palm, which caused Joel’s eyes to flick back over to him. His other hand was already coming up close just in case Jimmy lost his balance. “Also been what?” Jimmy asked, his voice soft, inviting Joel to continue.

Joel let out a small sigh. “I’ve been…scared. Scared of you being hurt or worse, and…and scared of you leaving.”

“Leaving?” Jimmy’s eyes were wide again. “Joel, I wouldn’t-”

“But you could.” And oh, saying it out loud was causing a few tears to leak from Joel’s eyes. “I-I couldn’t even blame you if you did. I should be able to keep you safe and yet you fell out of my pocket and almost died. You fell into a glue trap and almost died. I can’t…obviously I can’t protect you, so why would you even stay if I’m just putting you in danger?” Joel was full on crying now, angry tears streaming down his face. He didn’t want to say these words, didn’t want to believe them. But it was so hard to see them as lies.

“Joel-”

Joel shook his head, cutting off Jimmy without even really meaning to, so lost in his own self-blame. “I-I’ve messed up so much that I shouldn’t even really be holding you right now. I shouldn’t be-” Joel cut himself off as he realized he didn’t even feel worthy enough to hold Jimmy anymore. He tried to lower his hands back down to the desk, intent on letting Jimmy off.

“Joel Beans, don't you dare put me down.” Jimmy said and Joel froze, staring down at Jimmy with wide tear filled eyes.

Silence filled the room as Jimmy took a deep breath, processing everything Joel had just said. Joel couldn’t help but feel like he had messed this talk up. He was supposed to be telling Jimmy how he felt, which he supposed he was, but calmly and rationally. Not letting his emotions get the best of him. Not letting his own insecurities and fears win again.

He felt another apology on the tip of his tongue but before he could say it out loud, Jimmy spoke, breaking the silence first. “Joel, I trust you completely.” Jimmy said, surprising Joel. Out of everything, he certainly wasn’t expecting Jimmy to start with that. “You’ve earned my trust over these last few months. At this point I don’t even think-no, I know you would never do anything that would make me want to leave. Ever.”

Joel bit his lip, trying to focus on Jimmy’s words, but his mind kept swirling around those same anxieties. “But just two days ago I almost hurt-”

“No.” Jimmy said, cutting off Joel before he could start spiralling again. Joel’s mouth snapped closed. “You didn’t do anything. I almost got hurt, yes, but you didn’t do anything.” Jimmy’s hardened gaze softened. “Joel, it wasn’t your fault. It was just a series of accidents that happened to end with me on the floor. I don’t blame you at all for it.” Jimmy’s eyes went sad as he stared right into Joel’s eyes. “So I wish you would stop blaming yourself.”

“I-”

Jimmy cut him off again. “And before you bring up the glue trap, that definitely wasn’t your fault. You had no idea and I was the one who walked right into it.”

“But I feel like I’ve been failing to protect you.” Joel said, his shoulders tense but his hands never wavering in their steadiness.

Jimmy shook his head. “No, Joel, you haven’t failed at anything. You protect me when I most need it. You…you might not be able to protect me all the time, but that has nothing to do with what you think is failing.” Jimmy reached out and grabbed hold of one of Joel’s fingers, hoping it would help ground Joel, even just a little bit. Joel let out a little gasp but didn’t try to pull his finger away.

“Joel?” Jimmy spoke again when Joel didn’t say anything. That gained him back Joel’s wavering attention due to his thoughts. “Can you lift me up higher again?”

Joel blinked, a few more tears escaping as he did so, but nodded and carefully lifted his hand so that Jimmy was eye level with him again. Jimmy let go of Joel’s finger in favor of touching Joel’s face again. He reached over to below Joel’s eye and wiped a tear away, uncaring that his hand was now soaked. “I trust you.” Jimmy said, staring right in Joel’s eyes, not a hint of hesitation in his features. “I trust you and I’m not leaving and I don’t blame you for anything.” Jimmy repeated, tilting his head and giving Joel a soft smile as he did so. “Okay?”

Doubt still circled around in Joel’s mind. But seeing Jimmy so earnestly tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he was trusted, well…Joel couldn’t help but believe Jimmy. And he knew, deep down, that that bit of doubt would never leave. There would always be things that Joel would blame himself for, especially when it came to Jimmy. But, at least for now, he felt like he could deal with it. With Jimmy’s help, at least.

“Okay.” Joel said, his voice as soft as Jimmy’s smile.

“Good.”

It was silent for a moment.

“So…are you feeling any better?” Jimmy asked, his grin urging for the answer to be a yes. He leaned further against Joel’s face, causing Joel’s nose to twitch a little.

Joel couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the look Jimmy was giving him. “I guess.” Joel groaned out. He poked at Jimmy’s side gently, making sure there was no real strength to the poke. Jimmy remained steady leaning against Joel’s face. “You couldn’t just let me wallow in my own self-blame, huh?”

“Joel…”

Joel sighed. “I know, I know.” He paused for a moment. “Serious answer is I will be.”

Jimmy sighed but smiled softly. “Well, I’ll be here to keep reminding you then.”

Joel smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah you will be.”

#g/t #giant/tiny #borrowers #au #hermitcraft #hermitfic #hermitblr #bbbcau #bad boys borrower college au #borrower jimmy #tiny jimmy #fic #part 3

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oo-li · 2 days ago

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help. i would reach 30+ tags if i tried typing it all into the tags so. prepare for the yappa yappa outside the tags …. ( 𖦹‸𖦹)..

anyway memes for how this chapter had me feeling

ajsgsjgshdgbd hi i fell asleep yesterday reading this chapter (best way to sleep icl. if only i dreamed)

(i couldve dreamed of this au </3)

long tags. be warned.

to start: WDYM I WAS THE FIRST TO KNOW HOBGJOONG MADE THE COAT (kicks feet blushing)

the pineapple scent. idk why but it fits him. i enjoy it and each scent u assign to each member :3

next order of business: thinkibg about the end of last chapter and showing off softy san !!!!!! i wanna smother him in blankets and tell him its okay

also. giggling over how he drinks in this au knowing irl hes as much of a lightweight as me :3

ALSO ALSO. THE ALLEYWAY SCENE ??? im trying to like figure out who was there. like its gotta be mingi bc of the voice but who came out of the car ? hwa or joong ??

question is if swanette will remember the voice of who exited the car....

AND JONGHO MY BELOVED OUGH !!!!! i wanna bump into him on the streets meet cute style (delulu)

the maknae whisper !!!! such a good setup for us to know its him before he gives his name to swanette

AND I WAS WAITINF FOR HER TO FREAK BC JONGHO KNEW HER NAME BEFORE SHE EVER TOLD HIM !!!! safe in bed line !! so good !

wooyo offering to lace her up. melting. swanette is stronger than me lol (AND THE UNLACE LINE 🫠😵‍💫😵‍💫)

angel between two demons. the foreshadowing to the fucking first part of first chapter i fear.

side note but swanette fidgeting often is very relatable and me core so i really enjoy reading lines where she does repeated actions to soothe

as someone who stims with their necklace and clothes often. its just a very nice thing for me haha

speaking of reader being unhurt. remined me of the san icing her legs moment. blushes like a slut. ㅠㅇㅠ

WAIT I ALSO REALISED THEY MIGHT HAVE WAITED UNTIL SHE FELT NEEDED TO BE WALKED HOME BEFORE THEY STARTED TO DO IT REGULARLY ???

like yeah they dont feel the need to walk her home every night bc jongho n mingi watch over her and could protect her if needed

but idk. maybe its both good and a bit toxic of them ? toxic in the way of waiting for her moment of weakness ?

icl i wanna read this ignoring all potential toxicness in their bond with her but i fear that would ruin many beats of this story. sigh.

then again this isnt a sunshine and rainbows story. sorry maybe this tag wasnt nedded in my rambling ^^;

ANYWAY WOOYO JOKING TO COMFORT HER !!!! giggling and wiggling like a schoolgirl !!!

wtf was the restaurant scene. what was that. i know it means smth bigger but what !!!!!

tall and taller ??? our twin towers ??? WHAT DID THEY DO. DID SWANETTES HATE FOR CHEATERS BRING THIS TO IMARA AS A BUTTERFLY EFFECT TYPE SITUATION ?????

oh my god brat wooyoung teasing the fuck outta mingi. screaming over his touches longer longing. OH HOW I ADORE HIMMMMM

the S ring ? huh ??? do they have rings from seonghwa too ? couple items with seonghwa ? (delulu)

EVEN JONGHO HAD SEEN SWANETTE PERFORM IM SCREAMING OVER THIS SOBBING !!!!! i love baby bear soooo much ugh

oughhhh Julia. i do NOT like her. also im grateful the fellow members in the dance company dont realise san and wooyo love her bc i just know how much drama thatd bring

the foil of woosan. exploding. extrovert liking quieter cosy dates while the introvert likes outings. explodes pt2

i also love how wooyoung visibly lights up when swanette shows she listens and remembers what he tells her :((((

«San's gift of the coat» oh swanette. may u soon learn Joongie made it for u

ALSO ???? does the coat mean more than just joong quote unquote claiming her ? does her love her like woosan ?

has he been to a performance and no ond has known ????? i have many questions...

SCREAMING OVER THE NECKLACE BEING TUGGED !!! GOOD LORD SAN YOU WANT ME DEAD 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

side note i realised i feel like im annotating a physical book with this /pos enjoy the yapa yapa rii ramblings

«hes mine just as wooyoung and you are mine» SOBBING THATS A DREAMMMMMM

one hug from yeosang would literally fix me. im not joking.

side note the way you write is so delicious i love how it perfectly blends in her thoughts and actions into the narration... its delightful truly

GENTLEMAN SAN SWOONING

:( swanette wanting to be a star like yeosang :(((((

«there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude» YOU TELL EM !!!!

ouch ouch ouch !!! i dont like the foreshadowing of san's discontent with the prima ballerina answer !!! :(((

not much to add to yunho in the headlines other than swanette being so innocent... ough it works so well for the story and it isnt annoying or nothing !!! adore it

rip newspaper ceo bozo u wont be missed /j

shaking the bars of my cage !!!! yeosang wanting to eat dinner with her !!!!!!! im in love. yeosang i love u

SCREAMING OVER MINGIIIIII OH MY GOD MY SHAYLAAAAAAA MY BABY

the figures in the upper window !!!! our matz !!!!

oh the tooth gems... i wonder if it holds a special meaning within ateez's hierarchy in this au

the diamond chandelier. melting thinking about mv san. sorry

KITTY :D

wait sorry i was rewatching the mv bc of the piano mention and im gonna explode. im gonna send an ask dw dw

the mv okay. FUCKIN YEOSANGS FLOWR OUTFIT GRAHHH (pulls at my hair) jongho with the cat and the piano !!!! you nailed the car too w mingi omg ?

MINGI IN FRONT OF THE DESK ??? IS THAT WHERE YUNHO AND HIS SCENE AT THE TABLE COMES FROM ???

gotta lock back into the story. sorry. (i didnt lie with my yapa yapa)

barking over iomt hongjoong mention. sorry. daddy? sorry (death by pans and pots)

ngl yunho scattering ashes on the table cloth gave me a bit of an ick 😭

he was curious about her. growls. didnt he think she was some doll >:(((((

okay. the whole dinner. (wipes sweat off brow and sighs in relief) yunho intimidating. hes the guard doggggg

oh my god but yeosangieeeee and mingiiiii my princesses. my babiesssss

god i love my yeowoosan. i do. i wont lie any longerrrr

mingi cursing had me giggling

ALSO JONGHO MY BABYYYYYY BABY BOY BABY !!!!! :D

the time jump.... kitty z we love u dont take it personally pls :(

oughhhhhh its gonna be hard waiting for the next chapter this is so good !!! ill make sure to rb again when i reread the chapters hehe

till the next update or when i reread them !!! pls take care haley !

yappa yappa over o7

like a waltz⎯ part 4: piqué.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter focuses on all the boys & reader except my beloved matz :(( (their time is coming.) series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: As trouble arises and your patrons spend more time with you, more attention gets locked on you. Their interest is thoroughly piqued by you. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence (choking, fighting, punching, etc), canon typical gore, blood, death, guns, explicit language, stalking, alcohol, smoking, bribery, lack of privacy, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes, suggestive themes, kissing, intimacy, angst, fluff, voyeurism sort of, obsession, infatuation, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, food descriptions, missing people, polyamory, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 20.4k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

piqué ; french pronunciation: [piːk], ‘pricked’… or to stimulate interest or curiosity.

Creeping out of the stage-door hours after a performance was a normal thing for ballerinas. The alley way was something all the girls were familiar with just as they were with the foyer de la danse. Its damp cobblestone, nearby rotting trashcans, and the barely lit path was their red-carpet entrance. They were not allowed the luxury of entering through the grand doors of the opera house with its tall columns, brightly lit lamps, and the many steps towards its shiny, gold-painted extravagance The only days they were allowed to enter through the front doors were when the opera house was closed and they were rehearsing. The petit rats were only welcomed with glamour when the rich weren’t nearby. They had the back-entrance. This was the ugly underbelly of the pretty façade.

Dressed in her pretty coat and her warmest layers, she had said goodbye to San and Wooyoung ages ago. But then, the Madame had spoken to her and a few ballerinas in her office, relaying some notes, insisting on the girls performing the rectifications immediately. So, there they stood in the rehearsal room, satin-ribboned shoes laced up over thick winter stockings and their day-dresses on. The ballerinas repeated their motions: turning in pirouettes, performing jetes, and piquing across the hall. It was only after the city’s clock tolled twelve times that the Madame allowed them to stop with a slam of her cane into the wooden floorboards. Then, after confirming each dancer had paid their weekly bill (YN smiled, wiping sweat from her brow as she was told her patrons paid once more), they were allowed to leave. The other ballerinas had all scurried home by the time she had gathered her bag and coat once more.

It was late into the early hours, past midnight and not yet morning when she finally left the opera house and crept out into the alley.

Pushing the heavy door open with her shoulder, the chill of night soaked into her bones with a whoosh. Shivering a bit, she adjusted her pretty coat closer to her body and prepared herself for the walk home. Her boots click clacked on the icy pavement as she exited the mouth of the alley. Looking this way and that, the streets were abandoned. Seemingly abandoned. Some of the candle-lit lamps even had fizzled out in the evening with no leeries about to relight them. She continued to walk along, humming softly until she heard the noise. Loud panicked whispers. A crackling fire. The crinkling of a tin-barrel. The smell of smoke. Ahead of her, dark smoke was tumbling out of a nearby alleyway, firelight lighting the brick-walls. She paused, her foot-steps slowed.

Click. Clack.

“You fucked up the deal?” It was frightened.

Click, clank.

“I didn’t mean to; I didn’t mean to. Johnny stole some cash from them, and then-“

“I don’t care! We needed this deal – the money, before he arrives – before we all lose –“

There was the squealing of car wheels and the smell of hot gasoline in the air. YN froze, her footsteps stopping. A car door slammed open, and there was a new click-clank of boots. A startled yell, a shuffle of footsteps, voices overlapping; there was a thud of a body hitting the icy ground with a yell. YN held her breath.

“Gentlemen,” the newcomer’s voice was gravely. There were heavy footfalls and a scrambling sound of someone walking backwards. Something hit a tin-can.

“B-B-Boss.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, about that –“ the other chuckled.

“My money isn’t no laughing matter.” There was a thud like someone being shoved into a wall violently. The man groaned in pain. “You think I’m someone to be crossed? Where. Is. It?” the intimidating deep voice asked, lowly.

YN swallowed, frozen at the alley way’s entrance just out of view. When would she be able to pass? She needed to get out of here quiet and without being noticed. Or else… she was scared what would happen. This wasn’t the usual gang-dealings. Gangs would fight back, fist with fist. These men were scared.

“We can get it to you- We can- just give me some time, boss!”

“This is the second time,” the graveled voice grumbled; there was a low whistle, sharp and piercing.

And then it was quiet. There wasn’t even pleading, no whimpering.

Silence.

YN’s breath was held as she tentatively peered out from her spot. A sliver of her face was visible against the brickwork wall of the alley way. Smoke hazed the figures, but she could just make out the broad shoulders of the deep-voiced man, cornering another man to the brick wall. The man’s hand scratched at the many-ringed fingers that grasped his throat mercilessly. A gagging sound was heard. Not one of the gang-member’s allies moved to help them. Instead, they were all staring at the automobile.

A truck was reversed into the alley way. Black and large, it shined and flickered in the firelight. Its back-doors pushed open with a click, and men in dark masks tumbled out. Large, intimidating suited figures held bulky guns she had never seen before. YN had seen muskets, shotguns, and even a revolver once. These weren’t that. These were heavy, mechanical, and dangerous-looking. They piled into the alley, the metal of their weapons glinting in the firelight of the makeshift-barrel fire. The frightened figures strewn about the alley way were frozen-still; a few on the ground pleaded, praying. The masked men pointed their weapons at them warningly.

Her heart rate jumped.

This was more than just a gang fight – this seemed methodical. Frightened, her eyes darted to the other side of the alley, her path home just a few steps away. But she’d have to reveal herself… While they were distracted, she’d run. She would. She needed to get out of here quick. Like a mouse, she’d escape when the cats played with their prey.

There was the clink of a car door opening and a metallic thunk of it shutting firmly. A sigh echoed out into the air, disappointed.

“Please, boss.” The figure held to the wall managed to splutter out.

His captor pushed him up the wall with a violent thud before finally letting go. The man gasped and gaped like a fish as the dark figure took a step backwards to look towards his accomplice. The figure exiting the car didn’t have the dark masks like the others. In this light and smoke, she could only make out the shape of him. Clean cut short hair, the trail of cigarette smoke, the gleam of his teeth. He tossed the cigarette to the icy floor.

Click, clack.

Click, clack, BANG.

A gunshot went off. His hand was outstretched in a flash; the pistol in his grasp smoking. A man on the ground let out a yelp of pain; his blood splattered against ice and stone. His hand grasped at his leg helplessly in agony.

“Shall we send a message to your pals?” the new man insisted, cocking his red-hot gun again and aiming it at the man his companion had just released from a chokehold.

There was pleading; names babbled over one another until they were unrecognizable. “Sir! Mercy please!”

“I think we should,” the deep-voiced man commented, nearly growling out his words. “We knew you scum thought this was some game. And here you made it all messy.”

His teeth gleamed and glinted with his snarl.

“Let’s make it messy in return.” He finished, nodding at the other.

There was a signal, and the men fired at the others at the two tall figures’ command. Gunfire, loud, fast, and hot, blazed out across the alley way. Her voice escaped her, screaming out. Hiding quickly out of danger, YN jumped back.

“What’s that?” a voice bit out. “You got some dame in this? Find her. Get her!”

They had heard her. Ice flooded her veins. She turned to run, only to run face first into a broad chest. She screeched out again, her hand raising to muffle it. By the looks of his attire, he wasn’t one of the gang members from the alley way. No, this gentleman was dressed nicely in a midnight-black tuxedo with a black cummerbund sash around his waist like he had been at the opera house. His face was firm, almost furrow browed as he righted her with a careful hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t be in this mess; he looked so polished and unaware.

“Mis—” He didn’t get to finish his statement as she interrupted him. Her hands shoved unlady-like against his sturdy chest, wrinkling what had been previously a fine-pressed white button-up.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” She hushed. “Now!”

Her eyes dripped of innocence, of protectiveness. Her fear was palpable. His intense brown orbs met hers and, without hesitation, he nodded. Surprisingly, despite his height and stature, he let her push and pull him away from the alley way and back towards the front of the now-abandoned opera house. She tugged him by the hand up the stairs, so they could stand hidden by the columns.

Her boots click clacked with each step of the stairs. More gunshots rang out; footsteps followed after them. She stumbled a bit, yelping; the mystery man’s free hand reached out to support her waist before he pulled her into the cover of the tall columns.

She could hear gunfire echo through the street, and she jumped with each bang, bang, bang. The stranger’s hand rose to duck her closer to the column rather than hide against it himself. Curling into herself, into the man’s side, the column, her eyes shut tight. This was a nightmare. The masked figures would surely come after them. They’d pull him away and then her, and what would happen next? She was shaking. There was yelling, shouting. She flinched. A loud whisper.

“Maknae?”

No reply. There was a crunching of snow, the moaning of men in pain. There was a long pause; she didn’t dare open her eyes. And then, there was the sound of footsteps walking away, heaving and thuds of something, and finally the squeal of car wheels going far away from the scene. The smell of gun-smoke and burnt rubber and gardenias (her rescuer’s cologne she realized) was all that was left.

A silence tumbled over the square like the cold water of an ocean’s tide, overwhelming and discombobulating. She stayed frozen for a long until a single finger poked at her shoulder.

“Miss?” he prompted softly; he shook her shoulder firmly then.

His tone sounded nervous, almost afraid. Of course he would be; she was afraid! It was frightening to almost be caught up in trouble. They had been so very close to being looped into a gang fight. She swore she’d never go down that alley or any alley again - ever. Shortcuts home be damned.

“It’s okay. You can open your eyes.” His voice was melodic, soft. Warm in this icy cold.

Her eyes opened tentatively, and she took in the sight of the gentleman in front of her.

He looked down at her with those intense deep-brown eyes, his dark hair mussed over his forehead. She could see his brows furrow at her in concern; his tongue peeked out to swipe over his top lip. His clothes, presumably for the ballet, were wrinkled by her man-handling.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, glancing her over with a quick look.

He didn’t let his gaze linger, but he hadn’t let his hand up from her shoulder either. She swallowed and shook her head as she shifted her shoulders, physically gathering herself as she replied.

“I’m okay, sir. Are you?” she asked politely. Her voice trembled still.

His face smoothed into something she’d almost call relief before he nodded. “I am.” He glanced out at the road. “They’re gone.”

He spoke to reassure her, the tone firm and resolute.

“Do you want to go to the police?” he asked slowly.

He seemed not too disheveled as he took a few steps away from her. His eyes remained on the nearby street, monitoring it. There was no sounds of moaning or pain. What had happened to the gang members? The gun fire was horrible; she hadn’t seen much. Except for red, red, red. No. No! She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want any reason for those men to come find her! They heard her. They had. Her hands rubbed over face; hours old makeup and sweat was sticky against her palms. It felt like blood for a moment.

It sent chills up her spine.

“Miss YN?” her rescuer prompted again, dragging her attention to him.

“No, sorry,” she babbled out. “No.” she confirmed firmly. Her arms wrapped around herself, tugging her coat closer.

“Are you sure?” the man’s brow raised.

“It’s easier to ignore these things,” she muttered out. “Safer. To not get involved.”

The man hummed low in his throat, melodically.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, trying to shake off her fear. “For shielding me up here. And running away.”

“You warned me. You saved me I guess,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”

She smiled shakily before glancing back at the now-quiet streets. Her hands clutched her coat closer.

“Will you be alright, Miss YN?” he asked.

Her nod was preoccupied.

“I will be,” she told him, glancing up at him. He fit right in with the glamour of the opera house. She wondered why she had never seen him before. He was memorable. His face was handsome; his form strong in a different way to San’s but still imposing.

“I’ll be on my way. It’s late and I don’t want trouble. I’m glad that we are both aliv-okay.” she corrected.

“I understand,” he said. “You don’t want a chaperone?”

She didn’t even know him. She wished Wooyoung or San was here. She shook her head, and she took a step away, fiddling with her coat.

“I’ll be okay. Good night…”

“Jongho,” he answered, even if she wasn’t asking. “My name is Jongho.”

“Jongho,” she repeated. “Thank you again.”

He nodded, bowing at the waist.

“Good night, YN.”

He’d whisper, “stay safe,” but he knew he’d be following after her in just a little while. After all, her designated shadow was busy tonight, too busy taking care of business to watch over her. So, the once-street-mutt Jongho had been sent in his stead to watch over his lady. And Jongho couldn’t help but be curious about her. Even more now that he had held her in his arms and seen the sweetness of her soul in her eyes.

YN was safe in her bed that night when she realized she had never told him her name.

And yet he had said it.

Her motions were sloppy. Her pointe was weak. And her mind lost. She plied.

“Are you alright, honey?” San asked.

It was the next night - before showtime. San and Wooyoung somehow weaseled themselves into the boudoir before any other patrons could. Sometimes she wondered how much coin that costed them. The Madame had been strict with no patrons before shows – allowing the fragile privacy to warm up and prepare for the shows. It was so easily broken by the two men, but their eyes were only locked on her. And when she turned away to shimmy into a costume or fix a corset or a loose ribbon, they’d respect her. Glancing aside no matter how much temptation itched at their hands.

Wooyoung had offered once to lace her up, and he was met with a look of sharp disbelief – even if it was shadowed by a sweet blush. He hadn’t asked again, but he looked forward to the day he would be able to lace her up… and unlace her.

Tonight, they stood leaning against the barre as she continued to warm up. But, of course, San had caught her shakiness, her focus weaning.

His hand slide across her waist slowly, thumb caressing up and down.

“I’m okay,” she said honestly, leaning into his support as she lowered her leg off the barre. She flexed her feet and rose up on to a pointe for a moment before sighing out and turning to face the two men.

San’s hand ghosted after her waist, guiding her close as she came to settle between her patrons. She rested her bum on the barre between San and Wooyoung. Her pristine white costume made her look like an angel between two black-suited demons. Wooyoung flicked his cigarette bud into an ash tray he’d stolen taken from the front lobby of the opera house.

“I’m sensing a but,” Wooyoung teased. His fingers trailed lower that they had before, grazing over her the small of her back closer and closer ‘til… San slapped his hand, albeit lightly. She didn’t chuckle at his joke. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t joke at all. He frowned.

“Hm, swanette?” he encouraged again.

“It’s—things have been different around town recently. I just got scared last night,” she admitted, fingers trailing back and forth over the barre pole supporting them. Restlessly. “I think its just shaking me up today.”

“How so?” San asked inquiringly.

“I don’t know. I’ve seen two gun fights in the past month while walking home. That’s not normal. There’s all sorts of kidnappings or disappearances. It’s just,” she shivered, thinking of the fear that had clung to her bones since last night. “Scary.” Her arms wrapped around herself.

Wooyoung frowned, his thumb going to rub at her arm soothingly. He didn’t like her fear. He liked her smiling far more.

“You didn’t go to the police, honey?” San asked, brow pursing. Wooyoung glanced over at San.

“No,” she admitted. “It’s—not my business.” She shook her head a bit, not agreeing completely with her phrasing. “I mean, that’s how it’s always been. Ignore, walk faster, try to get away before being seen. If you mind your business, they’ll mind yours… unless you’re involved. I’m not. Never have been. But… there have never been gun fights. I’ve seen fist fights, even switchblades being pulled.” She shook her head again. “I sound silly. But I know there were gangs around town – I know the familiar faces of troublemakers, their tells – and they’re afraid. And if the monsters are afraid--”

She trailed uncertain. She sighed out again before her hands went to squeeze both of their hands that rested on the barre.

“Sorry, I’m just shaken up, that’s all. I’m spiraling a bit,” she reconciled. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung was first to cut her off. “No, no, pretty girl. Don’t apologize.” He soothed. “We don’t want you scared.”

“You weren’t hurt,” San clarified. It didn’t even sound like a question but still he said it.

She nodded in agreement. “Nope,” she showed her bare arms and twisted this way and that. As if it’d prove she was unharmed.

“Someone helped me,” she admitted.

San raised his brow at Wooyoung before the shorter began to fuss over her.

“My scared swanette,” Wooyoung pouted, huddling close. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he wrapped her in his arms. “Shall we walk you home from now?” he murmured. “San and I will be your personal bodyguards.”

“Uh, huh,” she teased lightly. “I’m sure you will.”

They’ve only walked her home on occasion. She knew it was in the opposite direction of the Ateez House. She didn’t expect them to walk her home. She wanted them to.

“Trust me, you’ll never get hurt around me if I walked by your side,” San promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek as well.

“I’ll make the ground you walk and dance sacred.” Wooyoung whispered. “Drench it in holy water for you.”

She laughed at that.

“Stop teasing me,” she giggled. “You’re being mean.”

“We’re not teasing, honey.” San pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“I’m sure.”

“Shall I carry you home instead? Like a damsel.” Wooyoung teased, arms sweeping underneath her legs.

Wooyoung was growing bolder by the day, and it made her cheeks flush. She let out a shriek of laughter, dragging the eyes of the other ballerinas their way. San raised his brow at them. Unbeknownst to YN, San seemed to harden when looking at anyone other than Wooyoung or her. He spun her playfully. Her mind rightfully distracted from her fear finally.

“You’ll never step foot on ground again while I’m around, Miss Swanette.”

It was dark in the restaurant’s backroom. Smokey and lowlight with flickering candlelight. The servers, the cooks, everyone had been pushed out, locked out. The long table was bare of any meal. Water in crystal glasses sat in front of each man. At the head of the table, there was a decanter of amber liquid with two empty pristine glasses. It was quiet, so quiet that the squeaking of rats could be heard in the floor board. Nervous eyes looked this way and that; bodies shifted and fidgeted. The door opened, and all eyes were sucked to into their orbit.

Two figures stood side by side. Matching Rolexes glimmered on their wrists as they both adjust their suits. One shoved their gold-lined, midnight-black suit’s sleeves up with little finesse while the other took his time, slowly peeling off his suit jacket before rolling his white button-up sleeves up. Slinging his discarded jacket across one of his broad shoulders, he then adjusted his black tie, a long silver ring encompassed his pointer finger of his dominant hand. It almost looked like a claw. The other rolled his neck, the glimmer of multiple gold and pearl necklaces matching his sneer.

Tall and taller glanced down the long table. Young and old sat there; most didn’t look like they had much. Fake luxurious hats with feathers, rings that didn’t sparkle quite right, and sweat-stained pinstriped suits. Some did have money. Their fat fingers rubbing their gold necklaces nervously. All of them shifted in their seats as the duo approached. One on each side of the table, they prowled.

“Gentlemen,” the one who spoke out first nearly growled his words in a snarl.

Rather than walk with his chin high like his companion, he tilted his chin to glare down the table. Dark eyes made darker still by anger. There was a laziness in his swagger as he walked behind one row of chairs; a hand trailed over each leathered chair.

“We have some… requests,” the taller one stated, a smile coming to his glimmering mouth.

YN watched as Imara grab Dohyun’s hand. Her words were hushed in the loud boudoir, unreadable. But she could see the panic, the tears twinkling on her lash line.

‘Don’t do this please.’

She could read the pretty dancer’s lips.

The bank owner yanked his arm away, harshly. As if they hadn’t touched Imara’s body up and down like it was his for over a year. He glanced about as he spoke, mouth moving too quick for her to catch any words.

He shook his head again as he turned and left the boudoir.

Imara had to pay for her dues the next day for the first time in over a year.

Wooyoung stood by his promise. Each night since, he or San walked YN home, winding through the streets with their fingers interlaced. Most nights it was him. He liked the shared time for just them he said. Sometimes, he grew daring and would wrap his arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder. Like two lovers taking a stroll.

The following nights had been relatively calm; there were no gun fights, no gangsters. In fact, the streets seemed boring. Not a soul was seen around them except for, of course, her loyal following shadow. Not that she’d know. He was like a ghost, sneaking around the corners and alleys to keep them in his sight.

From the darkened corners of the streets, the figure followed after them night after night. His annoyance only growing as Wooyoung’s touches grew bolder in the solitude of night. With no one there, the idea of public decency was lost to the second-youngest. It wasn’t anything explicit. He just was touchy. Touchier than if it were daylight. Holding her closer, his touches longer, longing.

Longingly, he wanted to hold her; he wanted her to curl into his arms. Her shadow-man scowled deeply. Wooyoung truly was a brat he decided. Still, he continued to trail them from far away. But every now and then, Wooyoung would turn and give him a wink over his Swanette’s head. His hand sliding up her back, slow and teasing; his fingers tickled and trailed lower and lower on her waist. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled.

Wooyoung’s smirk was triumphant as his eyes flickered over to the shadow in the alleyway. Wooyoung was teasing. Teasing both of them.

She’d huddle closer after, and the stalking figure would whisper out a curse. Jealousy itched at his stomach, and he was sure to return home with a scowl. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted, and, while he was a gentleman, his thoughts felt not-so gentle. He wanted to hold her. Kiss her. Have her love him. He’d give her anything she wanted. He was already so weak for her, and they hadn’t even met.

He buried himself in the work that was piled on his desk, thanks to Hongjoong. Still, he’d get distracted, imagining fantasies of him and her. He spun a ring on the desk, the ‘S’ emblem on it taunting him.

Would he be able to see her perform soon? Seonghwa and Yeosang had visited. Even Jongho had. Maybe he’d convince Hongjoong to let him go to the foyer de la danse like Wooyoung and San were able to. Why couldn’t he?

The young man knew the answer like a bitter liquor.

Later that evening, Wooyoung and him would meet face-to-face. A smirk on his kiss-swollen lips as he popped his head into the higher-rank’s office.

“Had a nice stroll?”

It was a Friday, and Julia with the red hair had been given a private dressing room. That was all anyone could whisper and gossip about.

It wasn’t large. It didn’t even have a mirror or dressing table yet. It was a small closet of a space. But it was hers - exclusively. Her name on a golden plaque had been placed on the door with the title ‘Featured Ballerina’ etched below it. There was space for more.

The entire ballet troupe knew it had been paid for by her patron and wasn’t a result of any promotion amongst the troupe. She wasn’t prima; there was no way for her to achieve higher with no new show to audition for. It was all an act. It wasn’t talent. It was money and favoritism.

Meanwhile, Imara was despondent, cold as ice to anyone that gave her a pitying look.

Patrons came and went like the seasons – even if one thought they’d last forever, winter always came.

It made talking to either woman difficult. Julia was high on her excitement. The way she walked was like she owned the world. She would run off to her closet the moment she came off stage, even if there was hardly room for two people in the space, let alone warming up or staying warm. But, as YN exited stage left, she and the red head stumbled into one another with a clank.

They both yelped, flinching at the pain that radiated up their shoulders.

“Sorry,” YN apologized before her gaze rose and realized who it was.

“Hey Julia.” Her tone was sharper, less friendly than. Almost icy.

The red-head rubbed her shoulder scowling at the other before her own face dropped into an attitude of sorts.

“YN.”

It wasn’t said fond or with blooming respect like it had been before. Where was the respect that had been trickling down with San and Wooyoung’s support? Was it because Julia was still ever-higher than her? Was it because she had a dressing room now?

Maybe it was because they spotted one another outside of the ballet with their patrons by their side.

“Why did you lie to me?” YN spouted out, brows furrowing.

The other ballerina laughed out, too loud. She was almost heard over the orchestra playing a lofty tune as the White Swan jete’ed about on stage nearby.

“What are you talking about?” the other replied, dramatically hushing her tone.

“You said your patron never invited you out of the ballet.” YN stated. “But I saw you at the tennis match.”

There was a condescending tut that escaped the other, and it made YN’s eyes fall into slits.

“Oh, honey,” it was said cruelly. “You need to catch up. If you want to be like them, not be theirs, you must play like them.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve gone on plenty of outings with my patron.” She stated, fixing her hair.

“So, you lied,” YN clarified again, simply. What wasn’t clicking? She lied to her.

“I’m not invited; I’m expected,” she said. “I go where I want.”

Semantics. It made her roll her eyes.

“He pays for you just as mine pay for me,” YN commented. “Why didn’t you just tell me it was normal? I was worried.”

Julia finally sighed out.

“Listen, YN. Liars are the only thing that fill those rich homes. Even your boys.” She bit out. “You better learn the game, how to play it, and how to tell if someone is lying to you if you want to be upper-class so badly, YN. Otherwise, you’ll just keep playing pretend, and nobody wants a pretender.”

Then, without another word, the red head pushed past her with a huff.

The game. Julia had called it a game.

YN had always looked at the boudoir as a show. A performance between patron and protégé. Usually explicit. But Julia saw it as a game. What type of game YN wondered?

Was it chess? A game of wits? A game of checkers? A game of hopping to the next best thing?

Wooyoung and San didn’t see her as a game. This she knew in her bones. Their sweet words were too sweet. Their genuine excitement and care were a balm to her. But then, she glanced aside at Imara who was like a lost sock without her patron, use ambiguous and left lonely in the corner of the busied boudoir. She had thought the same thing about her patron.

Doubt crawled in. Trickled in her veins. Even as the pair of men strode into the boudoir after the show per usual. San fixed his vest, the white button up loosened and less appropriate, but pleasing to the eye. Wooyoung finished his drink, handed to him by the bulkier man obediently as they walked.

“Hello you two,” YN greeted.

“Hi, pretty lady,” Wooyoung replied. “How was your evening? You were lovely as always.”

“It was good.” she said.

Wooyoung presented his cheek to her, expectedly. With their increase in dates and walks home, he’d become openly affectionate now. Not that she fought against it. If she didn’t press a kiss, he’d pout but when she did a pleased hum would reverberate through his chest like a cat’s purr. It made her beam; his happiness became her pleasure.

She pecked his cheek, quick. He grinned and quickly engulfed her in an embrace. His lips danced over her face. Tiny millions of butterfly kisses were pressed over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Giggles consumed her; his quirking lips hummed as he worked his way down to her jaw, underneath it, her neck, to her collarbone, before he was pressing fond kisses over her pearl necklace and up the column of her throat. Each one sent a tingle running through her.

“No pain?” San questioned, aware of how easily she bruised and ached.

She shook her head distractedly.

“Only a few more shows left anyways if so.” She commented. He gave her a scolding look. “Training will be less strenuous than performing. Surprisingly.” She chuckled, gasping out as Wooyoung pressed a deep kiss to the spot beneath her jaw. Not quite a hickey but close.

“Good,” the man replied. She needed a break San thought. He saw how her toes were a bright red through her tights.

“It’ll be nice to dance something new soon – but it’s bittersweet.” She just managed to get out.

San hummed out in agreement, pressing his own kiss to her forehead as he wriggled Wooyoung away from his honey to let her begin to dress into every-day clothing once more. She gave him a thankful look as she quickly went to change nearby. Her face was flushed, and her heart raced. How was her hair even more mussed from her bun? He hadn’t even touched it.

“I know,” San replied. “You must be excited?”

She smiled as she shed out of her feathers.

“Closing night is always such an experience,” she taunted.

It was. Full of celebrations, champagne, and influx of patrons spending their last pennies of the season.

“Will you be there?”

“Of course, baby,” Wooyoung cooed from San’s arms. She saw him ghost a kiss across his neck.

“We’ll be there for every closing and opening from now on.”

Wooyoung sat by her side, her hand in his as he gestured to the menu about this tea and that americano and this croissant. Their spread was already far more than either of them could finish. Large oozy cookies, steaming croissants with chocolate fillings, savory bite-sized tarts, and a large sandwich Wooyoung had already cut in half. One for him and one for her.

They had begun to have more dates like this; Wooyoung favored more intimate places such as cafes where they could cozy up close and share treats and talk while San liked to show her off at tennis matches and outings of public attention. She had liked it – but she couldn’t help but hear Julia’s voice in the back of her head.

Did she know her patrons?

Wooyoung smiled brightly and talked easily with her now; an air of comfortability was palpable as his fingers played with hers.

“Wooyo,” she prompted tentatively, interrupting his yapping.

“Hm?” he looked up from the menu, his face inquiring. Brows raised, and mouth squeezed shut.

“I have a question.”

“Ask away, swanette.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go and flexing his arms to resettle his sitting form to look at her more attentively.

“Why is it you introduced yourself as a Jung? And not a Kim?” she asked.

“Force of habit, really,” he admitted. “Hongjoong insists on us sharing his name.” He raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip.

“Because he helped you when you needed him?” she recalled.

His grin grew wide, amused. “Yeah.” He paused, biting his lip for a moment before he scooted closer. “He took me in basically. Which is why I consider him family, close as thieves just like Yeosangie and Sannie.”

“He’s at Ateez House?” she queried, fingering a cookie. Tearing it up but not really eating as she thought.

How many were at that mansion? Yeosang, San, Wooyoung… Hongjoong and Seonghwa as well?

“There’s a lot of you there.”

He nodded as he picked up one of the crumbs she was making and pressed it to her lips. His fingertips were warm from the hot ceramic of his coffee cup. He smiled fondly as she nibbled at it. Before raising the rest of the crumb to his mouth, licking at the chocolate melting on his fingertips.

She licked her lips as she watched, chocolate fragrant on her tongue.

“There are eight of us,” he told her. “Eight men in one house, you can imagine the chaos.”

He spoke as if they shared an apartment and not a grand ‘haunted’ mansion.

“What does he do?” she mumbled, half focusing on her attempt to solve the mysteries that had plagued Ateez House’s occupants.

“Eh, a lot of things,” he sucked at the crumbs on his thumb before reaching out a wiping a smudge at the corner of her lips. “This and that. Loves art and shows and spectacle. Is a bit of a collector, more than Sannie is – you know, San loves pretty things.”

She already knew where this was going.

“Like me, Wooyoung?” she teased, beating him to his flirt.

“Just like you, Swanette.” He nudged her tea her way, urging her to drink before it went cold. “C’mon, try this too.”

And like that, her mind was sucked into his fancies as he fed her a warm tartlet that tasted richer than any food she had ever had.

It was the first night Wooyoung and San would be unable to walk her home. Wooyoung was good at keeping his promise; he walked her home for many many nights. His babbling softened with his sleepiness which was cute. It was worth it to press a kiss to her lips before she went inside, and even more worth it when he caught the shadow of a figure watching them. He’d blow him a kiss – behind her back that is.

She was anxious to walk alone. Her stomach churned at the though. Wooyoung had apologized as they rushed off to something that needed their attention – him and San. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, promising she’d be okay. He’d see her tomorrow. Walk in the light and you’ll be fine, little bird. As if she walked anywhere else anymore – all her shortcuts scared her now.

It was too late to call for a carriage or a buggy to take her home, so it was the only way. Unless she wanted to sleep on the uncomfortable settee in the boudoir (and most likely be kicked out by the janitor early in the morning. She could hear the Madame already. “This isn’t an orphanage, Miss YN.” Despite the selection of orphans that made up their ranks.)

So, YN hugged her jacket around herself and began her trek home.

And it was so peaceful. Not a whisper, not a fight, nothing. The streets were abandoned – even the men who were stumbling home drunk were absent. It was absolutely empty. Except for her.

And her stalker, of course.

San was early at the opera house the next day– so early the doors to the boudoir weren’t unlocked yet. Instead, he lingered out front, pacing this way and that.

“Sannie,” she exclaimed at the sight of him.

How did he know she was going to practice early today? The question was quickly forgotten as she hugged him. His arms wrapped around her in a warm bear hug before he pulled back to press a kiss to her nose.

Sweet, that’s what San was.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, smiling affectionately up at him.

They hadn’t shifted in their embrace; San kept her close to him as he looked down at her. There was clear fondness there. His fingers rubbed up and down her back, over her warm winter coat.

“I wanted to see you,” he admitted. “You look so cute in your coat.”

His words brought a flush to her cheeks. This was what she imagined when she thought of Julia’s words. No way could this be false. He was cooing over her, his touch reverent. It was different.

“I love it,” she replied. “It keeps me warm. Just like you.”

He laughed, warmly. He brought her close to his chest again, hugging her. It was funny. For as much as he claimed Wooyoung was touchy, San loved skinship. He liked to keep her close.

“I got you something,” he whispered after a moment, shifting one arm to reach into his pocket.

“What’s this?”

In his small hand (well, small compared to his broad form) sat a beautiful bracelet, teardrop-cut diamonds were linked together into a delicate yet unbelievably expensive gift.

“For you.”

San smiled like a content cat as he watched her fiddle with the pretty diamond bracelet. His dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her fingers brushed over the jewels admiringly. He loved pretty things and seeing her openly awe made him buzz with excitement. Carefully, he linked the clasp over her wrist and turned her hand over in his, watching the gems glimmer and shimmer in the gas light. He grinned.

“What’s this for?” she asked, brows crinkling curiously.

It wasn’t like Wooyoung’s gift – a month anniversary gift – or even San’s gift of the coat, something she had needed in all honesty. This was sudden. Strange.

His fingers brushed over the jewels before he spoke again.

“I was jealous that Wooyo had this pretty necklace around your throat.”

He leaned forward, fingering the pearls around her throat before tugging experimentally at them like it was a leash. They tightened with the pressure, choking her lightly and forcing her to lean closer to her patron. YN’s breath stolen, not in pain but in a flicker of excitement, surprise, pleasure. Her head tilted back to smile up at him. His fingers tightened around the pearls ever so.

“Oh, honey,” San cooed soft and sweet as he continued to tug her up by the collar of her necklace to capture her lips in a kiss. One kiss that devolved into many as he pushed her up against the door to the boudoir, lifting her lightly into his arms. Pressed against the door, her bejeweled hand tangled in his hair, tugging him ever closer.

They were lucky no one passed by as they devoured one another.

San may have been a gentleman, but his greed and power revealed itself slowly but surely.

Another man was missing. He had been a regular in the boudoir. A young man who spent his spare pennies to leer at them. He wasn’t missed by any of the ballerinas, but it was frightening. Too many people were disappearing or getting into trouble.

Her mother and the other ladies at the factory walked together now. To and from work, in case trouble arose. She had even pushed for YN to walk with someone to the Opera House for once.

“Your boy is a good one,” she appraised. “That Wooyoung walks you here every night now. Like a gentleman. Stick around him.”

San had invited her out to another tennis match. Wooyoung had been caught up in business (business she still didn’t know of, she lamented as they walked along the cobblestone streets. San had whispered in her ear that it was boring. Wooyoung was unlucky to not be here with her. And he, in turn, was ever lucky.)

She wore his pretty diamond bracelet on her wrist, and, every time he stole a glance, his face curled up into a pleasant happy grin. He looked sweet like a kitten.

His arm wrapped around her waist as they sat and watch Yeosang’s match. Drinking champagne, he’d offer her his flute every so often, and she’d sip away. It was an expensive brand, far more easy to drink than the piss-poor alcohol the ballerinas could afford for their own celebrations away from the leering men of the opera. Drinking the expensive liquor the men offered was never a good idea – it led to worser things.

Yeosang looked as pretty as ever. He reminded her of a ballerino the way he danced about the court. Somehow both pretty and masculine as his form bent and stretched. Muscles rippled, leaner than San’s but not any less bulging. His arms flexed and she held onto the shared flue of champagne tighter.

San’s fingers stroked over her hip.

“You’re staring, honey,” he teased.

It wasn’t the tone of a jealous lover or a scolding of a respectable man. It was lilting, gentle. Her eyes looked away from Yeosang and rested on her date. He sipped his champagne, lips pursing and brows dancing. San’s lids were heavy as he grinned. Just as cat-like as earlier but more cheshire. Like he knew a secret.

He glanced away from her and looked over the athlete. His gaze mirrored hers, she realized. A fondness… no, an attracted air radiated in his deep brown orbs.

Was he teasing her? Was he genuine?

“Now, you’re staring,” she teased in return.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he replied coyly. He glanced back at her as he leaned in. “He’s handsome, hm?”

Her cheeks flushed at that and she looked away.

“San!” she exclaimed.

His laughter rumbled in his chest as he held her closer. His lips pressed to her ear intimately.

“It’s alright, honey. He’s mine. Just as Wooyoung’s mine.” He replied easily. “Just as you are mine.” His lips kissed her skin before he pulled away. Her hand shifted to grasp his in hers. His thumb grazed over her bracelet lovingly.

Yeosang greeted them after his victory; the zing of celebratory champagne on his breath stinging her nose as he leaned forward to wrap her into an eager hug. Daring for a second-meeting. It made her worry she had been too obvious with her friendliness, her intrigue… her interest in the athlete. She did like him after all.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he beamed.

The smell of his cologne mingled with his sweat. Masculinity mixed with the soft thyme and tea of his perfume. It made her want to hug him closer. He pulled back, his eyes burning with the same intensity beforehand. A straightforwardness. He wasn’t afraid to meet her gaze. His honeyed eyes were sweet and inquiring. Taking in every feature of her – the dark coat, the pearls, the diamonds. He smiled.

“Hello Yeosang. Congratulations,” she returned.

The man nodded respectfully before he glanced over her shoulder at the tall muscled man, eyeing Yeosang with clear adoration.

“San,” he greeted.

“Yeosangie,” San replied with a fond grin. His cheeks were blushed, maybe from the champagne they shared?

The athlete rolled his eyes lightly, playfully, before he settled his gaze on the lady.

“Did you make any bets?” he asked curiously, leaning into her with intrigue.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed. She hadnt even thought of that; she was a guest after all.

“You know what? Yeosang’s right,” San retorted. His hand squeezed her waist. “Next time, you should bet some coin. We do all the time.”

Her brows crinkled, doubtfully. Not because she doubted Yeosang’s abilities. He was a powerful athlete. But betting… she swallowed a bit. She didn’t have much money to risk in general. She had just gotten used to having extra coins in her coinpurse. Her embarrassment burned at her ears.

“I’m not sure,” she said softly.

Yeosang eyed her before he hummed lightly. His gaze settled back on San, firmly.

“I’ll do it for you,” San said instead, downing the rest of his drink. His eyes reopened from the gulp and he shrugged. “I’ll buy you anything, honey. Everything.”

Yeosang laughed, lips curling. Pleased. He leaned in to whisper close.

“You’ve got our San, sweetheart. Wrapped around your pretty finger.”

The athlete’s fingers were close by still, and they tickled her fingertips playfully. If he was any bolder, he’d be holding her hand. But instead, like a tease, he pulled back. Licking his lower lip and flashing a charming smile that only a socialite had. Easy and well-practiced.

“I’ll buy you anything, too, baby,” San purred towards Yeosang. He looked at the buff man with a raised brow. He always looked so sharp, in a delicate way despite his rippling muscles.

“I know,” he teased.

Yeosang raised a hand to squeeze the younger’s cheeks fondly. San smiled, pleased, a mirror of the grin he gave her earlier. His cheeks looked plump in the other’s lean long fingers. Yeosang chuckled, squeezing them again before his hand dropped and he turned.

“Come with me,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We can talk in the shade – the weather is horrid.”

He was right; the clouds were whirling and swirling into what was sure to be a downpour soon. They walked further into the tennis court’s shaded areas – the betting shop in the corner with a long line. People, mostly men, were cashing in their rewards. San’s hands went to rest on the small of her back; if she had glanced aside, she’d see he did the same to Yeosang, guiding the pair of them this way and that.

A rush of reporters, dressed for the weather with raincoats and large brimmed hats, flooded towards the winner. Yeosang slung his black tennis racket over his shoulder, smiling and waving at the flashing paparazzi’s cameras. Her eyes shut at the bright lights. San’s hand squeezed her waist and tugged her closer.

“Sir, congratulations!” There were cries of celebration and excitement. “Good show! Good show!”

YN wasn’t used to such fanfare, and it made her fantasize of the flashing lights she was hopeful for. One day… she glanced over at Yeosang. She’d be like him. Successful. In his own right. He grinned politely at a reporter, waving with a tight structured wave.

“Mr. Kim! Is it true you know Kim Yunho?” she heard over the chatter.

Yunho… she had heard that name before. But where? She didn’t have time to think as San guided them throughout the crowd, his hand curling over her hip to keep her closer with the writhing crowd jostling them this way and that.

The athlete didn’t reply, and he let his friend guide him through the swarm until they entered a tented area. Once the tent’s curtains were tied together, Yeosang huffed.

“I despise paparazzi,” he admitted, scuffing his feet against the concrete as he walked.

The space wasn’t special, but it was private. Scattered about were a few folding chairs, a wrought-wire bench, and a grey-green locker. Yeosang went to it, and opened it with ease. Within it wasn’t much. A folded assortment of clothes, a letter plastered to the locker’s interior, an extra racket, and a water jug. He placed his dark racket within and picked up the water jug. Raising the glass jug to his mouth, he took a big gulp. San patted her hip encouragingly as he moved away going to sit on the nearby bench. YN tentatively took a seat in a folding chair.

“Your performances of Swan Lake are coming to an end, are they not?” Yeosang queried.

“Oh, yes. They are; will you be able to attend closing night… or any show anytime soon? I’d love to see you there.” she admitted.

Yeosang’s lips quirked against the water jug’s rim before he pulled it away. Swallowing, he nodded. “I would love to see you once more, Miss YN. In your element.”

“You must encourage him to come backstage,” she turned to San. Less asking and more pressing.

He nodded in agreement. Easily swayed by his lovers, he leaned back in his seat casually.

“Is it like this?” Yeosang asked; a hand went to push back his locks, sweatied and damp.

The sight of his sharp brows quirking in curiosity sent a flare of excitement through her. He was so handsome; she couldn’t help but awe. San chuckled at her ogling.

“It isn’t, Yeo.” San admitted. “The backstage is grand and too open with too many girls running about half-dressed and men staring at them.”

Yeosang’s eyes flickered to him. “Even our girl?”

San glanced at her, head tilting. “Not as of late.”

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it in between his lips. The look he gave Yeosang confused her – sharp, dark, and biting as he bit down on the cigarette before fiddling with a silver lighter. Yeosang hummed lowly.

“San and Wooyoung are polite,” she said, as if that would help the conversation. As if that was the topic at hand. “They’re the best gentleman in the boudoir. Honest.”

San grinned around his cigarette as he finally lit it. He knew she spoke the truth. She always did around him now. It made him happy to know she was so comfortable around them that she didn’t even notice the glares he sent the way of any man that dared eye her as she switched costumes.

Little did she know what would happen to one if they did.

He puffed out smoke.

“I’d rather see you outside this boudoir then,” Yeosang commented, closing the locker’s door. “I don’t wish to see you improperly, sweetheart. I wouldn’t put you in that situation.”

“We don’t mean to either,” San coughed out, the smoke scattering about bashfully. He turned to look at her with the gentlest of eyes. “You’re painting me to be a villain, Yeo.”

“No, I know,” she interrupted. “I know San and Woo mean well.”

They had said so since the beginning. Wooyoung claimed he didn’t even know he was playing as potential patron until San said so. And now, well, she felt safe around them. When she was with them, when she was introduced to Yeosang, it made her feel permanent. Not a doll on a music box to show off around the right clientele.

Imara never had this.

“Still,” Yeosang tutted. “I’d hate that. If I had those reporters watching every little move I made back here.” He bared his teeth. “I’m sorry you have to suffer that, sweetheart.”

“Do you want diamonds?” San asked.

This was the fifth time he had asked if she wanted some grand gift as they walked home. The umbrella San had kept them mostly dry in the drizzle. YN knew he felt bad about the boudoir. Especially at Yeosang’s commentary.

“No,” she let out a chuckle.

“More pearls?” Not his favorite thing, but they looked pretty around her neck and they were useful.

“No,” she giggled, swinging their conjoined hands.

“Then what, honey?” he whined a bit, sounding childlike as he squeezed onto her hand.

She was surprised this bulky beefy man was acting so openly whiney in public. He didn’t need the illusion of masculinity to cling to; there was an element of strength in him deeper than attitude. Even if he was acting like a child.

“I’m okay,” she said.

He licked the back of his lips. Doubtful. He frowned before stopping in the streets. The lamplighters were out and about, lighting the last remaining candle lights amongst the new gas-line lamps. He didn’t falter. He didn’t care if they were intimately close. His hand around her wrist as he pulled her close in the wet setting sun.

“What do you truly want, honey?”

What did she truly want? She smiled up at him. All her life she had only wanted and yearned for one thing – til Wooyoung and him and Yeosang all tumbled into her life that is.

“I want to be a ballerina. The ballerina prima,” she told him sincerely. Her hand rose to pat his cheek softly. “You are helping me get it.”

His lips pouted as he looked down at her. He didn’t like that answer. That was a harder request. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead, he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her lips, so quick one would’ve missed it if it hadn’t tasted of champagne and cigarette smoke. His sweetened coffee cologne wafted over her soothingly like a chaser.

“Extra edition!” a newsboy cried out.

YN had been walking towards the newest restaurant that San and Wooyoung insisted on trying. It was expensive. Far too expensive for her, but San insisted per usual and Wooyoung pouted that without her he’d be bored. So, here she was walking the streets towards the richer side of town. The richer side of town where all the newsies made their routes; the rich had money to spare.

“Star tennis player Kim Yeosang associated with Kim Yunho, the man released on 1 million coin for murder in broad-daylight! Shocking details revealed.”

Now, that caught her attention. Her feet slowed until she came to a stop. For once, it felt like the newsies had given just enough information to lure her in. Her coin purse pressed against her thigh was heavy. Heavy enough to spare a few coins to buy the paper.

“I’ll take one, Jack,” she told him, digging into her pocket to hand him the necessary amount.

The younger grinned up at her. “Thank you, Miss YN.” He shuffled the heavy stack around, untying the twine to present the fresh-printed and warm newspaper her way.

She nodded in thanks as she unraveled it and began to read.

San and Wooyoung sat in the corner of a restaurant, talking lowly in the shadows as they waited. Only to be interrupted by a newspaper being plopped down on the table. Their eyes shifted from one another to the newspaper. Doubtful, almost darkened looks were engrained in their faces before they glanced upward to see their swanette. Haloed by the light pouring into the café, her arms were crossed; brow raised. Their expressions softened immediately like butter.

“Hello, honey,” San rumbled. He tugged the chair out for her.

“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung added.

They hadnt looked at the paper yet.

“What the fuck is this?” she murmured, taking the seat easily as she shoved the headline their way.

Wooyoung licked his lips at her expletive. She didn’t curse much in the boudoir. Hearing it made his cell burn, biting at his lower lip after a moment. He glanced down at the paper; that hot feeling fizzled at the headline. He sighed, head rolling back, before he glanced San’s way. San’s expression hadn’t shifted; not even a twitch of his brow as he looked over his glasses at his partner.

“It’s a long story,” Wooyoung replied.

“I’ve got time,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “Start with the part where Kim Yunho is living in your mansion. Kim Yunho, the man who shot a near-billionaire, dead, in broad-daylight after a supposed bet gone wrong.”

Her voice raised as she retold what the inky print said. She didn’t look intimidating in their eyes. Especially with her pout. San wanted to kiss it off her. Instead, he offered, “Yunho’s got a complicated past, but he only acted in self-defense.”

“He shot a man in broad daylight. Is Yeosang safe? Are you?” she worried. “Hongjoong?”

Wooyoung scooted close at that, hating the way her voice accelerated. San chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

“Oh, little bird,” Wooyoung hummed, taking her hand. “We are safe. We are safe. You don’t need to worry – is that why you are so upset?”

She frowned at them, her furrowed brow deepening. Wooyoung cooed.

“You are, oh, baby,” he hugged her, nearly joining her on her chair. “You are sweet, YN.”

“I’m worried; you are with a criminal,” she mumbled out, making sure her words were too loud. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Wooyoung stole a kiss. “You really are a doll, an angel. We are okay I promise.”

“You can’t just kiss me and tell me it’s okay. How? How is it okay?”

“Yunho is a free-man,” San reminded. “He didn’t break out of jail; he served his time; he paid his fees; he was let go. But apparently caught the attention of the press while doing so.”

“Poor Yeosang,” YN lamented suddenly. “He hated the paparazzi and now-“ she buried her head into Wooyoung’s shoulder.

The younger cooed. His hand going to pet at her back as he glanced over at San while her back was turned. There was a rustling of the newspaper, the crinkling paper being folded over.

“Yeosang will live. He’s been reported on his entire life. Yunho will not hurt us, promise, honey.” San replied. “You’re working yourself up. I’ll get you tea.”

There was a snapping sound of his fingers. A waiter obediently came. The man whispered his order as Wooyoung murmured to YN.

“It’s alright. It really is. You’ll see.”

San and Wooyoung’s eyes met once more.

They should’ve let Yunho meet her before this all happened; their shared grimaces said so.

Not even a day later, there were rumors about town. That night whispers about her patrons were all about the boudoir. The Ateez House truly was haunted some said. It had a killer living there. It made her scoff. There were seven others in that house – how could you build a house to be broken and haunted by one person?

The next day, a man from the newspaper company, the Cromer Chronicle, was missing. He had disappeared in the night without a trace. Or well, there was a trace. A letter saying he was going on vacation for a while. But few believed it.

Gossip roared. What was even more interesting, was that the newspaper headlines the next day were completely free of any mentions of Kim Yeosang or Kim Yunho.

But on her vanity, a letter rested with her name in an elaborate script signed by a certain man. The seal was the same ‘A’ emblem that both San and Wooyoung wore on a gold ring.

Miss YN.

You are cordially invited to join Kim Yeosang at the Ateez House estate for a night of fine dining. Casual attire permitted. I am so excited to see you again – if you will join me!

Yours,

Kim Yeosang

“Did you place this on the vanity?” she asked the two men who sat side by side on a sofa. Sometimes they looked too close for comfort; tonight was one of those nights. Wooyoung was nearly draped across San’s chest, his head cradled on his muscular shoulder as he stared up at her.

“No, swanette,” Wooyoung claimed. “Our hands are clean in this.”

He raised his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers playfully at her.

“Yeosangie must’ve liked you,” San added with a smirk.

“You’d know,” Wooyoung muttered; San grasped the other’s hip warningly.

Wooyoung giggled out almost like a hyena, head tilting back in mischief.

“You should’ve seen how he looked at her, Wooyo,” San continued, his gaze flickering towards YN from over his spectacles.

“I know,” the other giggled.

“Will you be there?” she asked tentatively.

Her fingers fiddled with the corner of the thick cardstock Yeosang’s handwriting graced. She was used to their presence. They felt safe to her. They glanced at one another. San’s fingers trailed up and down Wooyoung’s waist. Wooyoung went to interlace their fingers smoothly. Squeezing it once and then twice.

“I’m not sure, honey,” San said. “We have business to attend to this weekend.”

“Sorry, pretty,” Wooyoung pouted at her. “We may see you in passing? If you miss us so much, we can meet you here early the next day. I want to hear all about you and Yeosangie.”

She smiled sweetly at them, flushing at the idea that the pair of them encouraged her to dine and possible flirt with another. It was strange but not… unfavorable. Yeosang was handsome. He was delicate but strong. Eloquent and interesting. Understanding. She liked his company. Despite the company he kept… her mind flickered back to the elephant in the room… or yesterday’s newspaper in the nearby waste basket.

“Is… Yunho –“ she asked, shifting this way and that. San couldn’t help but think she looked so sweet, so innocent, so naïve in her little feather tutu, all virginal white. “Is it safe for me - with Yunho there?”

They didn’t even need to look at one another. Wooyoung’s hand held San’s tighter as he shifted his gaze to simmer on her.

“Yunho would never hurt a lady, honey,” San replied, sincerely and instantaneously.

His hand outstretched for her to take. Which she did. It was San after all. Secure, sweet, strong San. He’s been so straightforward. She trusted him. His fingers caressed over her knuckles, “Especially you.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “I believe you.”

“Yeosang will be excited.” San promised, raising her hand for him to press a kiss to her knuckles. “We can deliver the news to him when we get home.”

He pressed a peck to each knuckle before continuing up her hand to press kisses over his bracelet. He placed a final sweet kiss to her pulse before pulling away, and pulling her towards their embrace. San could hold both of them in his lap after all. Wooyoung slid further down on the settee until his head rested on one of San’s thighs. His lips curled.

“I will send a car for you, swanette. You won’t have to lift a foot,” Wooyoung promised, reaching a hand up to tuck hair aside as she sat on San’s rippling thigh. “Easy-peasy.”

It was her first time in an automobile. She had traveled in carriages and open buggies but never something so expensive as a brand-new automobile. Something so polished and metallic and rich. Her excitement was almost like a child’s; her smile was bright at the sight of the car sitting curbside. Its lacquer was a deep-olive color, gleaming in the golden sunlight peeking out of the rain-heavy clouds. The chill that nipped at her heels and the rain that itched at the sky made her thankful that Wooyoung had sent a car for her – even if every single one of her neighbors were being nosey. She could see their faces pressed to their windows with curtains shoved aside haphazardly. No cars came here. And certainly, no car like this.

The driver was tall and handsome, his dark brown hair styled sharply across his forehead. A multi-layered suit with shimmering gold detailing looked expensive on his form, a long-coat making his appearance look clean cut and sleek. Just like the car.

His entrancing eyes were dark, siren-like as they locked onto her form as she hopped gracefully down the icy steps. He felt his breath catch. A mix of excitement and fear tumbled through his stomach. She looked so pretty. Her hair was done nicely and modern. Her day-dress was a pretty (if a bit washed out) green color, complimenting the car’s hue perfectly. The sparkle of her pearls around her throat and her diamond bracelet peeking from beneath the sleeve of the dark fur coat made him smile. His full lips quirked into a smirk of a close-lipped smile.

His eyes haven’t left her form yet. Not even when her mother stepped out to awe at the car and the man waiting for her on the curb.

“Hello, doll.” He greeted her, polite with a deep-voice.

His hand, covered in multiple rings, opened the passenger door for her.

“Hi,” she smiled at him, and he wanted to swoon then and there. But he stayed firm, icy, tall. It wasn’t his turn. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. But he knew the way to her house; he had a car. And he was higher than Wooyoung or San in the hierarchy. He’d do what he wanted to do… as long as the Captain allowed that is.

His eyes didn’t leave her as she entered the automobile, tucking her dresses beneath her lady-like. He closed the door behind her and circled around the car to enter the driver’s seat. He took a shaky breath before entering; he felt like a school boy. When was that a feeling he’s felt recently? (The Ateez House would say every time he whined and pouted at them like a princess.)

The interior of the car smelt expensive, too. The well-taken care of leather, the wiped down metal accessories, everything reeked of rich maintenance. Her eyes ate up the new machine, looking at the gearshift, the polished controls. There was even a record player in the dash.

She never realized how rich they were. It surprised her. He ate up how her eyes widened, and she sat so delicate, hands in her lap as if touching something would bite her. She was so cute. His lips curled into a smirk as he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life, and she let out a little sound of surprise.

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating around her. She glanced over at her driver. He looked casual in the driver’s seat. One hand was on the wheel; the gleam of an expensive watch shone at her. He was leaning back, his hand cupping the back of her car seat carefully as he began to pull the car away into the street.

He didn’t want to intimidate her. Wooyoung had said she was already so nervous about Yunho. So, he didn’t speak, didn’t tease, didn’t do much except drive. He enjoyed her gaze on him though. He watched her so many times that it made the back of his neck and the tips of his ears burn pleasantly. He tongued at his canines, hiding his smirk. His plush lips pursed instead.

Her awe shifted as he sped up, her eyes flickering to the streets that passed by, faster, faster, faster. Faster than any carriage or bike or trolley. It sent a whirl of excitement in her stomach.

“This is my first time in an automobile,” she admitted into the silence.

“It is?” his voice was deep as honey, and it made her spine tingle.

He glanced over at her. He wanted to show her so many new things. He was glad to have one of her firsts. Wooyoung had stolen so many. Her first date, her first kiss, her first embrace. He’d at least be her first car ride – one of many. He’d take her in any of his cars – if they were in the countryside rather than the city, he’d show her how fast these automobiles can go. He’d impress her. They’d go one day, he imagined. They’d go all sorts of places together. He’d show her the world if she wished it.

She hummed out in agreement, pulling him from his daydream.

“It’s nice,” she complimented, shifting her seat.

A flood of rose-petal aroma consumed him. Her perfumed skin. She put so much care into this; into them. It was intoxicating. His eyes locked on the road, his fingers trembling lightly. He flexed his hand and gripped the leather of the wheel tighter.

“Thank you, darling.”

The car ride was a quick one. Ateez House was on the outskirts of the city but not too far away to be a long journey. Just far enough to be private amongst the trees and rolling hills. It looked more alive than it had ever been in all the years she lived in Cromer. While the estate was sprawling and the mansion itself large and imposing with a complicated layout, it always looked abandoned. But now, there were crystal windows gleaming with light, gardeners trimming bushes, and luxury cars pulling into a nearby car garage. People tended to the large fountain in the center of the roundabout driveway, despite the threatening rain that rumbled in the sky. The mansion’s greyness seemed to fade with the orange-light the windows poured into the evening.

It was a phantom resurrected; the flame of life was burning within the house once more.

Mingi cleared his throat. “Welcome to Ateez House, YN.”

Her eyes were locked on his home; winding over the overlapping rooftops, grazing the glowing windows to see if anyone was looking out at them. Two figures, dark silhouettes at most, stood on the upper floor, one short and the other tall.

Her head tilted in curiosity before they walked off.

“Thank you,” she smiled at him before going to open her door. “And thank you for the drive.”

There was a squeak of leather as he shifted closer suddenly. His arm outstretched over her, bracing over her chest. Her gasp was all the sound that filled the air between them. Her head turned and they were nearly nose-to-nose.

He was so close. The blood-orange of his cologne licked at her senses, mingling with the polished leather so refreshingly. He smelled intoxicating and sharp. His face was only inches away; the fabric of his long-coat brushed against her. His hand closed around the metal handle of the car door, gently nudging hers aside. He laughed out nervously. His eyes were wide and gentle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he flashed the sweetest grin she had ever seen, all toothy and bright. It sparkled… wait, he had diamonds on his teeth. His canines were adorned with gems that gleamed in the setting sun.

“Let me,” he bumbled out. He opened the door from within, before pulling his arm back. His cheeks were painted a rosy color that only made his flustered appearance look more sweet.

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grin of her own.

She hoped he wasn’t too surprised by her own initial surprise. He was just trying to be a gentleman she realized. Bowing her head, she quickly ducked out of the car, closing the door behind her with care.

The only thought that filled his brain – besides the intoxicating smell of YN – was ‘damn you for winning, Yunho.’ After a long moment of breathing the remains of her deep into his lungs and watching her form walk towards his house, Mingi restarted the automobile with a rumble to guide it back to their private car garage.

Everything reeked of extravagance. Tall walls with recess ceilings and wainscotting details. Gilded gold and glowing gas-lamps. Italian-Renaissance inspired tiles of saints, angels, and the Heavens were inlayed in the ceiling. The floor was patterned, a rich expensive textile making up the carpet.

There were butlers lining the walls of the foyer; all in matching midnight pin-striped suits. It was almost eerie. They were like statues, repeating over and over and over. Expressionless. Each face was stoney, eyes ahead. It reminded her of when the ballet troupe lined up in their matching leotards and were separated by height; row after row. Slicked back hair, delicate body lines, starving ribs. Identical and indistinguishable until they reached prima title.

None of them acknowledged her except for one, a rogue, that walked up and nodded at her politely.

“Welcome to the mansion, Miss YN. Please, come.” He outstretched his hand to encourage her further into the lavish space.

She curtsied, uncertainly. One of the many ghostly butlers took her coat as she walked down the foyer’s hall. Her kitten heels were soft against the carpet flooring until they rounded a corner. They click-clacked across marble flooring, polished ‘til she could see her reflection.

“Mr. Yeosang has requested a meal to be prepared at the West Wing. Please follow me.” The same butler spoke once more before he turned to lead the way.

Following after him, she was awed by the space. The very place that had been teased and taunted and ghost storied about was a gleaming jewel. As they walked, she realized how each hallway, each living space was opulent. The current path had walls that were painted an ice-cold baby-blue. Yet there were touches of warmth everywhere. Fine art in gold-leafed frames, elaborate trims around columns and the floor were the same shining gold. The art was all heavenly. Literally. Gods, angels, and disciples portrayed in blurred brush strokes, painted with colors that ached of softness. Everything was all gold, fluff, and magnificence.

The ceiling had multiple heavy hanging chandeliers of pure jewels. Diamonds dripped from its wire frame and sparkled in the gas-light. Everywhere was gaslit; she was surprised. No one had notice workers here and yet it was modern. Not a speck of dust or age present anywhere – besides the ancient art she supposed.

She slowed as she passed a large Renaissance-esque painting full of cherubs with feathered wings and glowing haloes. Squinting, she saw one figure wearing a ski mask. Huh? A cat meowed nearby. Her attention was caught, her head turning to the sound. She stilled as she glanced down a nearby hall, one that seemed darker than the others. Doors lined each wall; all shut except for one at the end of that hall. It was opened just a crack, the siren call of a piano trickled out, and a little cat peered around its corner. The sweet cat was a midnight-black, almost blue-ish in tone; her tail twisted behind her as she meowed out again.

YN’s eyes lit up at the sight; the cat meowed again as it wiggled itself out of the doorway. Its paws and claws clinked against the tile, almost in rhythm with the piano music playing. Large green eyes peered up at her curiously as the cat approached; the collar around its throat was expensive – a leather thing with jewels, pearls, and a large silver bell that jingled out the closer it got.

She meowed at her again.

The piano stopped; the reverb humming out discordantly.

“Z?” a voice called out before a gentle melodic whistle chimed out.

The kitty’s attention was caught again, its ears perking up and meowing as if answering the call of its owner. It began to stroll back where it came from.

“Miss YN,” the butler’s monotonic called out.

Her head snapped towards him, answering his call immediately. She stood from the slight crouch she had taken for the kitten’s approach. Her butler stood some feet away, arms behind his back. She expected a disapproving look, but he provided none.

“Please follow me, Miss. We wouldn’t want you disappearing.”

That was almost worse! It sounded so ominous coming from his stone-faced mouth. She swallowed.

“Sorry,” she apologized before she quickened her pace to catch up to him.

“We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

They continued to walk down this hallway and that hallway. Someone could easily get lost here. It was like a grand castle. Finally, after crossing some carpeted stairs, they were in front of a grand hallway of windows. As they passed, she could see a dreary exterior. Rain had begun to pour, fogging the outside in grey. But she could distantly see a maze of hedges, rose bushes, apple trees, and all sorts of gardens awaiting. She awed at the sight as they continued down the carpeted hall to come to a set of dark oak doors.

“One moment, Miss,” the butler warned as he entered the room quickly.

“Boss, er, sir – “

The doors shut behind him before she could hear any more. She was left alone. YN glanced aside at the wall opposite of the windows. There were inlayed gas lamps, glowing a soft yellow. A portrait hung nearby, painted in a similar style as the painting she saw before.

It was of a young man, a handsome one at that. His inky-black hair was slicked back in shiny waves, a singular strand curled over his forehead daintily. He was in all white, soft silken tunic and oversized bowtie of virginal white. Despite the softness of his attire and of the atmosphere surrounding him (he was almost painted with his own divine halo as if he was an apostle), there was sharpness to his midnight-black eyes and the smirk of his mischievous smile. His ears were pierced up and down, pearls and fine metals looping them in sparkles. A twinkle was shining at the corner of his grin as if his teeth gleamed in the heavenly light around him. He was beautiful, but she couldn’t help but feel like his dark eyes were staring her down.

The tall doors opened behind her suddenly. YN turned to see the reveal of a dining hall as luxurious as the rest of the mansion. But the aroma that wafted from its interior was far more intoxicating.

“Enter, Miss YN.” The butler encouraged, beside the door.

He held them open for her as she took a stride inside. Her lips widening into a smile as she prepared to greet Yeosang at the head of the table. But this was no Yeosang she realized as she gazed down the long, lavish table to meet the dark gaze of a stranger.

With a calculated look, he stared at her from the head of a ten-chaired, decadent table of hot food. It was more than she had eaten in months even with San and Wooyoung: sizzling side dishes, steaks covered in thick luscious sauces, cracked fruits that had a sweet nectar gleaming on them, chocolate-oozing pastries. An open bottle of red wine rested in a frosted chest of ice; eight crystal glasses sat upside down. One glass of red wine sat in front of her spot; the other in the grasp of the man’s hand. The ruby liquid gleamed like blood. A sea of lit-candles decorated the spare space of the table; the chandelier above keeping the candles instead of trading them for their gas-lit counterpart. The orange glow illuminated the intimate room in a hazy feel. Smoke trailed out of his mouth in a long plume, perfuming the delicious air with the heady scent of tobacco.

“Hello.”

His voice was a soft drawl. His close-lip smile was the same. Soft, slow, and confident. His eyes were illuminated by the flickering candles, making the darkness there look like a night sky spattered with stars rather than with blood. He tapped his cigarette into a crystal ash tray with his long fingers. Rings after rings curled over his knuckles; some sharp and some with the emblem ‘A’ just like San and Wooyoung shared. He raised the cigarette back to his lips to take another drag into his lungs.

“YN.” The smoke billowed from his lips as he spoke her name tenderly.

She should’ve left then, knowing it was different from what she had agreed to. She should’ve asked him where Yeosang was immediately – and who was he? But she already knew, didn’t she? She had worried about this man since she read the newsprint that bore his name.

She shifted, fingers tugging at her skirt as she heard the heavy wood doors shut behind her. The butler that led her here disappearing, leaving her with him. Her fingers pressed into the door behind her, tentatively. It didn’t budge beneath her. In the shadows of the room, she saw there were men lining the wall. Like ghosts, they didn’t speak or move – they simply stood like gargoyles surrounding a castle. One broke the line to pull out her chair opposite of her dining companion. Her eyes flickered back to the man at the head of the table.

“Hello,” she said instead. “Yunho.”

It wasn’t a stutter, but there was a pause in her words. Yunho’s laughter was almost fond as he chuckled out a plume of smoke before she was urged forward with a flick of his hand. Ashes splattered across the white dining cloth, sizzling burns into the fabric. She sat down in the chair pulled out for her; the servant pushed her in towards the table with a screech of the wooden legs against the wood.

The silverware in front of her was polished, gleaming in the candle-light. A perfectly folded napkin rested on the center of her gold-lined plate. The initial ‘A’ in a circle was embroidered fancifully in shiny black thread on the pristine white fabric.

Her fingers flexed against the wood arm rests of her chair as she looked down the table, over candles, meats, cheese, and vegetables at the intimidating man. He was far away, but perhaps that was the safest option for her.

“I like you already,” he proclaimed, his words solid and confident. His smile simmered.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the piles of food in front of them with a hand, swinging the cigarette and a trailing path of smoke about. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Her stomach felt tight with nerves, but even so it grumbled at the sight before her. Everything smelt so nice and rich and oily. Decadent. She licked her rosy lips, dragging her eyes up to look at him once more.

“Where’s Yeosang?” she asked finally.

He smiled, a peak of glimmering teeth shining in the candlelight. No, it wasn’t his teeth that shined – it was the inlayed diamonds on his canines that twinkled. Just like the driver. Just like the painting.

“He’ll join us,” Yunho reassured. “He’s running late from a previous engagement. I promise.”

Her gaze was doubtful. Why didn’t he just tell the driver to alert her? She could wait. She was used to waiting upon rich men.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I was curious of you.” He stated as he raised his cigarette to his mouth once more. As he breathed out, he gestured again at the food. “Please help yourself. Wooyoung told me some of your favorites.”

There were her favorites; steaming and hot. Some tartlets from their recent date sat on a pearlescent serving tray. Tempting. Her stomach grumbled. Watching him carefully, she reached out a fork to stab into a piece of meat and plating it.

“I’m just a ballerina,” she claimed, eyes flashing to look at him as she picked up her utensils to cut at the singular item on her plate.

Yunho’s lips quirked up on one side before he glanced aside at a man. He nodded towards her and she couldn’t help but jump as a suited butler approached. Yunho’s gaze took in the small tension that rippled through her.

The butler began to pile up her plate with this and that. Steaming vegetables, savory pastries, fluffy mashed potatoes scented with garlic, sticky soy-sauce braised meats, pasta with a rich cream sauce, seafood with clarified butter. It was more food than she could finish. The amount of food laid out was enough to feed eight men.

“You’ve entranced my brothers for being more than just a dancer,” Yunho commented. “I wanted to see what was so special about their swanette.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. She felt like a trapped bird in a zoo being observed. She tried to imagine the boudoir around her rather than the intimacy of a dining table.

“I’m a good dancer,” she told him boldly. They like bold, an older ballerina’s voice was in her ear once more.

Yunho smiled. “I heard. I apologize for never attending a performance.” He said.

“You’ve been… busy,” she said. But not too bold. Another ballerina warned.

It was a dig, and Yunho knew it. She knew it too with how wide her eyes became. And still, his lips curled into a smile, his eyes simmered.

“Its no wonder Wooyoung took to you,” he breathed.

He raised his glass of wine to his lips and took a long sip. At the mention of Wooyoung, he saw the way the muscles in her face flickered. Lightening. Interesting. Placing the glass down, he leaned forwards, hand resting under his chin as he stared at her, intrigued.

She was intriguing. She had four members of the family wrapped around her little finger and here she was in his sticky webs. Yunho ached to figure her out, dive deeper. The vein in his forehead bulged a bit with his intensity.

His eyes felt magnetic. She had cut up her slice of steak into tiny bites at this point, but all he had done was stare at her. He had not a lick of food on his own plate. It felt more like an interrogation than a meal at this point.

So, she stared back. Her eyes met his, swallowing down her fear. The twisted mangled amalgamation of fear, intrigue, and something else. She was safe, she chanted internally. Wooyoung promised. San promised. He hadn’t done anything to her…yet.

She took in his appearance. While his eyes were a hypnotizing thing, his entire face was like one of a siren’s. Handsome with chiseled features. Sharp cupid’s bowed lips, sharp brows, sharp clean lines of his suit. A pair of glasses were tucked into his pocket… he needed glasses just like her Sannie. Her eyes darted up the line of his throat. His hand rose to bring his cigarette back to his lips. He tilted his head, the midnight-black hair swaying over one eyebrow smartly.

How were all these men so handsome? The driver, her patrons, Yeosang, Yunho. All breathtaking compared to the oil-grubby handed rich men of Cromer. It made her soften just a smidge, guard walls lowering as he breathed out smoke once more. Lips pursing delicately. Cheeks soft, she noticed. It was quiet. The clinking of her utensils against her meal was the only sound in the hall.

“Do you like dancing?” she asked. Dancing was safe. Dancing was all she knew.

“Enough,” he said. “My brothers like it more than myself.”

Brothers he said again. It was strange. Wooyoung spoke of the others as friends, dear ones – explained that the shared last name was something pushed upon them. Yunho embraced it.

“Then, sports?” she countered. “Tennis perhaps?”

Yunho chuckled lowly, and it felt like a tiger’s rumble. “No,” he laughed. “Not particularly – though, I have good hand-eye coordination.”

Her mind flashed to the shooting the newspaper relayed – a fictionalized imagining in her head bloomed. Him and his gun aiming and firing with ease, just like that man in the alley way.

“Oh,” she breathed.

He wondered if she knew how blatant her face revealed things. Her fear, her thoughts, her soul. It was strange though. Yunho didn’t want her frightened.

“I play against Yeosang often,” he clarified.

“Oh,” she repeated, a different tone trickling into her exclamation. Her knife scraped against the plate’s china, screeching out suddenly like a soprano at an opera house. Her gaze turned to it, surprised.

Her meat was completely shredded now. Almost inedible with how much she had sawed into it over and over.

Yunho laughed again, the sound warm and full. “Darling,” he cooed out, soft. “Please relax and eat. I insist. Yeosang won’t mind.”

Yeosang. Of course, that’s why she was prolonging it. Her smile was bashful and Yunho’s eyes swallowed it up just like she bit into a piece of her meal finally.

“Will you not eat?” she asked.

Innocent, sweet. Yunho’s eyes simmered as he reached out to grasp a fruit from an intricately weaved wired basket. He bit into a red apple, sharp and vicious. Juice dripped over his fingers, down his chin. He raised a black napkin to the corner of his lips wiping it away. His eye contact never ceased. Did he just wink?

“How long have you lived in Cromer?” he asked.

“My entire life,” she admitted.

He hummed out. “And the ballet almost as long I suppose?”

“Ballerinas are taught young,” she said.

“The best way to shape someone.” He snubbed his cigarette out in his ash tray.

“I suppose,” she admitted. “But I love dancing. Truly.”

It was spoken sincerely, passionately. He nodded. “It’s been mentioned. They say one can tell by just the way you breath. You are full of it.”

“D-dancing?” she queried.

“Love.” he countered. “Passion.”

Her eyes blinked owlishly. “Oh.”

“Do you love them?” he asked directly. His head tilted curiously.

The topic had shifted in tone dramatically suddenly. Her heart raced to its hummingbird speed once more. Her face blushed. Yunho drank it all in like the wine in his glass.

There was a clambering down the hall way, muffled by the oak doors. Her gaze broken from his, and she looked over her shoulder at the doorway.

“Here he comes now,” Yunho whispered.

As predicted, Yeosang came busting through the doors. His hair askew, his eyes burning with the cruel fury she had only seen on the court. His elegant clothes looked rumpled; the softness of his sweater that cut into a deep v revealed more skin that she had seen of the sportsman yet. A rose was pinned on his chest, gentlemanly, and yet somehow tempting her to stare at his chiseled chest more. A decorative scarf wrapped around his throat, disheveled.

He glared at Yunho with such contempt before it was washed away at the sight of her. He glanced her up and down, quickly as if his lingering gaze would be scolded. Appropriately for such an inappropriate action. His lips parted gently; his rounded face soft with a gentle blush.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he immediately apologized, head bowing.

The long strands of russet-brown hair that framed his face swooped over his cheeks. His hand rose to tuck one strand back. “I was caught up with something unexpectedly.”

With little show, she stood, discarding her utensils to greet him. Her smile was soft, reassuring, genuine. She ducked her own head to catch his gaze – he was still glaring through his lashes at the man at the head of the table she noticed. But when he saw her own face come into view he straightened sweetly, awkwardly. But in such a charming way somehow. Yeosang was so charming even in his anger and discomfort. She didn’t want him to be in discomfort.

“Its alright,” she reassured him.

“We’ve just been chatting,” Yunho chimed from the end of the table. Unhelpfully.

Yeosang adjusted his leather gloves nervously, tugging them off finger by finger.

“I see that.” Yeosang rumbled.

His eyes settled back on her like she was his seas’ moon.

“You look lovely, YN,” he complimented. Her smile lit up the room, he swore.

He licked his lips, deep voice humming out as he looked over the table.

“I-I,” he gestured to the table, the meal he had ordered the chef to prepare, “I have those tarts you liked at the café on Riverfield Street.”

She smiled at him; he was so cute.

“Thank you,” she grinned. “And I saw. They look perfect.”

He breathed out a little, fixing his clothes once he tucked his gloves into his back pocket.

“It’s been perfect,” she tried to reassure him, sensing his anxieties. His blooming nerves. Her hand reached out to squeeze his.

He jolted at her touch, just enough for her to catch it. His ears were red. Yunho’s grin was wide, sparkling.

“Thank you for the invite.”

“Of course, I wanted –” he glanced at Yunho’s leering gaze. “I wanted to get to know you better, sweetheart.”

“And we shall,” Yunho agreed. “Sit, Sangie. Let’s eat.”

A butler appeared to pull out a seat for him. It wasn’t near either of them, in fact. It was the third seat to the left side of the table. Yeosang glanced at the butler silently before pulling out the chair directly beside YN and seating himself.

He was served a selection of the meal, silently. She went to break the silence.

“How are you?” The headline still brandished itself in her mind. His words about paparazzi left a lasting impact.

Yeosang huffed out. “Well,” he replied. “News articles come and go. I’ll remain on top of my game regardless.”

Yunho nodded steadfastly from across the table. “It’ll be nothing by the next game.”

Yeosang offered her a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me. I’ve survived worse.”

She nodded solemnly. “I don’t like it still.” Yunho watched the interaction carefully. His brow quirked.

“How are you liking Cromer?” she asked. She was used to asking men how they enjoyed the show… but that wasn’t an option here when the room lulled into silence.

“It’s different. But I’ve seen places as beautiful as Aurora, as desolate as the Strictlands, and as rural as Paradise. Cromer reminds me of Aurora in a different way.” Yeosang explained. “It feels homely.”

She smiled. “Ateez House is yours, correct?”

“Its in the family,” Yeosang replied.

“What do you think of it?” Yunho queried.

“Its very nice,” she politely said.

Yeosang tilted his head fondly at her. “Meaning?”

Her brows crinkled in surprise. “Its—nice?” she repeated.

“Shall I remind you what San encourages you to do, sweetheart?”

To be honest. How did he know about that? Her neck and ears became a soft pink in the candlelight. Swallowing, she glanced to the side.

“It is genuinely nice – its just… this house has been called haunted my whole life,” she told them. “There are ghost stories linked to this mansion. It’s strange being here and seeing that it is, in fact, not rotting or some supernatural force of nature.”

Yeosang chuckled out, smiling sweet.

“There are stories?” he leaned in. “Do tell!”

“I love a good gruesome story,” Yunho commented.

But for some reason, the way the words lilted in his tone didn’t make her flinch like before… in fact, was he teasing her? Her eyes flickered from Yeosang’s open form to Yunho. His cheek rested on his hand; elbow pressed into the table as he eyed her with Yeosang.

He smirked at her as they met one another’s eyes. He nodded, urging her. And so, YN went into the ghost story she had been told as a little girl, sitting among the tutu’ed training ballerinas while her mother did alterations on the prima’s show-stopping costume.

“The story goes that this house was home to a Captain,” she started, twirling pasta about her fork as she spoke.

Yunho and Yeosang’s eyes locked.

“The Captain was no ordinary captain; he was the fiercest pirate king of all. With his crew, the Black Pirates, they terrorized the seas and reaped countless treasures. When he grew old and hoarding like a dragon, he docked at Cromer under a false name. Ateez House was built upon blood-soaked jewels and coins; they say the pirate captain passed in his vault, hidden deep in the mansion’s basements. His bones are still there, unrested. His ghost terrorizes the house and refuses to let any soul except his pirates’ prowl.” She dramatically told.

Her fingers wiggled sensationally. “Or that the treasure was haunted by those they robbed and killed mercilessly. Their ghosts remain and haunt these halls.” She shrugged her hands landing back in her lap. “The story changes every so often.”

“What a story,” Yunho breathed. “Do you believe it?”

“It’s just a story. Maybe there are some real parts but… ghosts aren’t real. I’m not that silly of a girl.”

“You aren’t,” Yeosang commented immediately.

“But everyone in town knows it, so it sticks,” she told them, reaching out for the glass of wine in front of her and taking a sip.

“Cromer loves its gossip.” Yeosang commented.

“They’re stuck in their ways,” Yunho added.

“What do you think of Cromer?” she redirected to Yunho.

He took a small breath in. His previous grimace faded and his brow crinkled as he looked at her thoughtfully. His lips pressed together before replying.

“At first,” Yunho said, tilting his chin. “I did not like it… but now…”

His gaze felt hot, ever present. There wasn’t a barrier of modesty she often felt with other men. Yeosang’s was intense. San’s was careful, observant. Wooyoung’s eager and challenging. Yunho’s was steadfast. Confident. Even the men in the boudoir knew there were limits. They had their wives. They had their image with the other men within the boudoir itself. Here she felt both hunted and examined. Admired but equal. He was looking at her soul.

“Now, I like it.” Yunho purred. “Very much, darling.”

He placed his silverware down with a clink. He leaned forwards, hands pressing into the table.

“There’s more to you that meets the eye,” Yunho commented. “I see that, so now I will let you speak your mind, truthfully.”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was he going to ask her about her love again? In front of Yeosang?! Her eyes remained on him steadily. Her ears burned.

“You’re frightened of me, yes?” he said.

It was strange to feel relief at the confirmation of something so horrible. Because she was still nervous around him, for his boldness frightened her just as much as his previous actions. Yeosang’s eyes shifted to her, widening as he watched her nod.

“Sweetheart,” he reached out for her hand, petting her phalanges but not grabbing it. He simply wished to reassure her. Just as she had done for him earlier.

“San and Wooyoung said I didn’t have to be,” she replied. She licked her lips.

“Ask me what you want to know.” He stretched back into his chair, neck flexing as he met her gaze.

“Is it true? Should I be frightened?”

“That’s not it,” he laughed a bit, lip curling almost scornfully, scoldingly. He raised a brow, head tilting as if weighing his options. “But no, you don’t need to be frightened. Ask another.”

“I don’t have another question.” She countered, only to state simply and firmly. “You shot a man.”

And he smiled. “I did.” Yunho confirmed.

“On purpose?” she asked.

“Yes, darling.”

Her blood felt cold. She hadn’t met someone like him and it sent her stomach into a cramping mess. Yeosang did take her hand now. Interlacing his fingers softly. He glanced over at his elder as he rose from his chair. Oh, Yunho was tall. Very tall, in fact. With them sitting, he looked giant. His heels thudded against the floor.

“Why?” she asked. Yeosang felt her hand tighten in his grasp.

“He tried to fool me, steal from me,” Yunho stated, walking towards them. “Lied to me. I don’t like being played.”

There wasn’t a moment for the words to sink in for YN. Instead, like a game of tennis, she shot back.

“So, you shot him? Just like that?”

“For your information, yes.”

“That’s frightening.”

“Yes.” Yunho was beside Yeosang now.

“But!” Yeosang was the next to interrupt. “If you must know… Yunho isn’t some cruel man, sweetheart. It was done in self-defense.”

“Self-defense?” she asked doubtfully. Wooyoung and San said so themselves as well.

The air that Yunho carried seemed to be more than that. He wasn’t exactly proud, but he was at peace with what he did. Yunho’s face pulled into a tight thing as he rested a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder. They both looked at her inquiringly.

“He pulled a blade on Yunho,” Yeosang interjected. His gaze flashed to her. “He has the scars to prove it.”

They had an answer to everything. It was self-defense. Not a thing of violence. Of necessity.

She stared at them

“It wasn’t… he struck first?” she repeated slowly.

They glanced at one another before smiling at her with dual grins. Yunho tapped his fingers on Yeosang’s shoulder before he pulled back. A hand went to his chest, gentlemanly and earnest in nature.

“Yes.” He ensured.

Her eyes flickered to Yeosang. He had been a sensible figure – likeable, nothing formidable. If he trusted him, if her Wooyoung and San did. Yunho spoke with such authority. He valued truth just like San did.

Her defensiveness, something she didn’t even see in her body language, softened. Yunho’s sigh was one of understanding as he walked back to his seat, stealing a glance at her. He smiled again, his teeth gleaming in the cande light.

“YN.” He spoke her name luxuriously. “If there is one thing you should know about me. I don’t do mess.”

He plucked a dessert from his plate, biting into the chocolate with slowness. Calculated. He kept her gaze. It sent a thrill through her; he sent a thrill through her. Swallowing together, the corner of his lip curled. He raised a napkin to his lips, gentlemanly.

He was a gentleman, straightforward and powerful. He had to be telling the truth.

“I’m not a messy man, darling-doll.”

The dinner didn’t last much longer. Yeosang encouraged conversation; Yunho threw in some topics, mostly of things she had mentioned to San and Wooyoung. It struck her then that they shared many stories about her. They must’ve talked about her a lot. It made her cheeks flush as red as the chocolate strawberries Yunho ate.

Their eyes were hot on her; it felt like they were captivated and it made her heart race. Like she was on the stage.

She liked it.

Surprisingly, her two patrons made an appearance at the end of the meal. Wooyoung, of course, was the one to pop his head into the grand dining room.

“Swanette!” he beamed at the sight of her.

Yunho took in how her shoulders softened and her chest heaved at the sight of Wooyoung, at his voice. He smiled, softer and truer than any other smile he shared tonight so far.

Wooyoung was dressed the most casual she had ever seen him. A fashionable patterned white-and-black button-up shirt was barely buttoned, revealing a black ribbed tank-top beneath it. His hair was pushed back casually and messy; a rolled cigarette was behind his ear. His slacks were a deep black, loose and flowy rather than a structured fabric.

“Woo,” she barely got out, her mouth dropping at the sight of him.

He smirked, arms slinking over the chair and over her shoulders.

“Hello hyungs,” he greeted the others, barely glancing at them before ducking his head and pressing a less-than-decent kiss to her mouth. Smothering and all consuming. She squeaked into it. A ringed hand rose to cup her guide her head in the kiss, icy cold against her flushed red cheek.

Yeosang and Yunho chuckled out. The sound was a mixture of fondness and annoyance. Yunho’s brow twitched. Yeosang’s hand held hers tighter… he hadn’t let go, of course. But YN hadn’t noticed the entire dinner and dessert. ‘Til now. Her fingers flexed in his as Wooyoung swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips.

“Alright,” San scolded Wooyoung, his hand going to the back of the shorter’s neck. He nearly pried him off her. “Wooyoung!”

“I missed her,” Wooyoung said simply, flushed face and breathless.

His hot breath fanned over her rosy face; his lips were spicy and left hers burning. Mischief twinkled in his eyes as he stole another kiss from her lips. San pulled him back again with a harsher hand.

It was then she got a glance of her other patron. San had freshly washed hair, the locks combed out and dripping over his forehead. He wore a similar tank top to Wooyoung, but in a white shade. Shockingly, he had a pair of workman’s light-washed blue jeans hugging his thighs. Thick thighs, muscular shoulders, tawny honey skin. It was tantalizing, tempting. But when she looked over his face, her mouth dropped in surprise. A bruise kissed at the corner of his lips; his sweet smile tarnished with a purple-red watercolor splotch.

She couldn’t help stand immediately, half in the clutches of Wooyoung. Her hand rose to cup San’s cheek.

“Honey!” he exclaimed out in surprise.

He didn’t shift away, actually bending at the knee for her height, but San was certainly surprised. He had taken the lead between them often. YN rarely made the first move with either of her patrons. But what he had mistaken for sexual tension only led to pain. He was shocked when her thumb’s brush against his lips made pain radiate up his face.

“Ow,” he whimpered, frowning. His brow furrowed.

Yeosang laughed nearby. “He forgot he’s hurt,” the athlete commented.

“It’s been a while,” Yunho added, finishing his drink as he watched the interaction play out.

San’s lips pressed together, blinking rapidly before taking in the concern look on her face.

“Oh, honey, I’m okay,” San tried to reassure. His hand rose to cup her hand that was pressed to his jaw, thumb brushing over it soothingly. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“You just said ow, you liar,” she scolded him, brows furrowing. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine,” he swore, tilting his head to press a kiss that stung his mouth to her palm. “Promise.”

“This town is getting more and more dangerous,” she breathed out.

Her thumb brushed over his cheek softly. His pretty face marred. Without his glasses on, she could see how his eyes sparkled in the chandelier’s candlelight. Soft and starry, as if she hung the world.

“You are an angel,” he murmured. “I’m okay. I’ll live.”

“Wooyoung, will you tell me what happened?” she prompted, not moving. Wooyoung pressed to her side made a humming sound.

“The streets are rough around here,” he said. “Someone really ought to fix that.”

Yunho huffed from across the long table.

San smiled at her again, eyes falling into half-moons. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips stung to do so, but she was worth it. “Thank you for worrying.” He told her. His stomach did somersaults at the thought of her jumping to his aid.

“Shall we walk you out, swanette?” Wooyoung directed instead, head tucking over her shoulder to look at the table. “Yunho has a meeting to attend unfortunately.”

Yunho hissed in through his sparkling diamond-inlayed teeth. “Does the��”

San nodded.

He breathed in through his nose before offering YN a simmering smile. Full of warmth. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss YN. I hope to see you very soon.” He bowed politely before with long-legged strides left the room. Wooyoung winked at him as he passed.

“I’ll join you,” Yeosang offered YN. “You must come visit again soon – in the spring, the gardens are beautiful. We could have tea or -”

“Yeosang likes to take long strolls through the gardens – even if it’s raining,” Wooyoung revealed, finally peeling himself off her back to look at the selection of food laid out. He plucked a grape from a platter.

“You gossip like the upper-class now,” Yeosang commented, raising a brow.

Wooyoung laughed brightly at his friend before popping the fruit into his mouth. “Eh, they rub off on you – I had to keep up with you, Sangie.”

Hmm, it was an interesting interaction. Playful but also… strange. She knew their pasts implied they hadn’t always been wealthy… Yeosang had been a protégé tennis player at a young age but how did he meet Wooyoung? Was it all because of Hongjoong?

San’s hands squeezed her waist. When had both of his hands shifted there? “You sleepy, honey?” he asked.

“Too filling of a meal,” Yeosang complained as he rose to his feet.

As if the food was her reason to getting lost in her head.

“It was perfect,” she countered, taking a step back. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“Thank you for gracing us,” Yeosang replied, offering her his hand. She took it, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A picture of a gentleman. But he was quick to wrap her arm up into his, pulling her into his side now. Surprisingly daring for the Yeosang she knew.

“Shall we?”

Their exit seemed to take forever just as before. Yeosang lead her down hallway after hallway after hallway. It almost felt like they were navigating a maze. San and Wooyoung framed the two in; Wooyoung on her side and San on Yeosang’s.

“How was Yunho?” San prompted, tentatively. “He didn’t scare you?”

“Did he frighten you – when you were alone with him?” Yeosang repeated, arm tightening around her.

“No, no, he wasn’t frightening,” she reassured them. “He was a surprise certainly.”

“Ah, Yunho was sneaky. He doesn’t like the opera, so he found his own way to meet you,” Yeosang sighed. “I feel like he caused the trouble for me on purpose, so I’d run late. You’re popular around here, sweetheart.” He squeezed her arm teasingly.

“Who else here?” she chuckled. Seonghwa? Hongjoong? She hadnt yet to see either of them – like they were ghosts.

“You’d be surprised,” Yeosang commented before leaning in and admitting. “I quite like you, too.”

He made her cheeks burn red, and Wooyoung giggled.

“She likes you too, Sangie,” he crowed out, fingers reaching to tickle her waist. “I’ve seen her blush over San, over you… Do you like Yunho as well?” Wooyoung queried, his words becoming less and less playful. They were almost inquisitive, as if testing the waters instead.

There was a crack as he lit a match across a gold-leafed frame. He placed the cigarette that was behind his ear to his lips and lit it.

“I did,” YN told him, honestly, as they continued through the foyer. Wooyoung chuckled out, smoke puffing out in front of his face in surprise. He wasn’t expecting her to admit it so fast.

“Not like that,” she interrupt his giggles, face burning. “I just—”

Looking down another hall they, she made out Yunho’s form, tall and slim walking down the hall with purpose. His back to her as they turned into the foyer finally.

“He was kind. Even if he was a bit intimidating… he wasn’t cruel or harsh. Just… confident.”

Yeosang smiled close-lipped. Wooyoung blew out his smoke to the side, the plume passing over the butlers’ faces. Not one flinched or coughed.

The smell of expensive tabacoo wafted over her face warmly as Wooyoung walked in front of them to push open the large heavy doors of the mansion.

“So he wasn’t so scary after all?” he teased. “Wait ‘til you meet Hongjoong and Hwa-hyung. They’re properly-”

“Wooyoung, don’t tease her,” Yeosang defended.

The younger raised one of his hands in defense as he held open the door for them. “I’m just saying – she got pass the guard dog.”

“She hasn’t met Jongho yet,” Yeosang giggled lightly. “He’s truly got a bad case of looking gruffer than he is. He’s our baby.”

Jongho. She had only heard that name once, and it was that night. Her ears rang.

“Jongho?” she queried softly.

He had been at the opera! He was one of their ‘brothers’.

“Or Mingi--Ah, here he is now,” San commented, smiling over at the man standing in front of the green-painted car.

“Hello,” the driver greeted, voice as deep as earlier. His eyes flickered to her arm in Yeosang’s.

Wooyoung smirked at him. “Mingi, I didn’t know you were driving today,” he said.

“I thought you and San were doing business today.”

“It was a fast deal.”

Mingi looked unamused, his siren-eyes looking him and San up and down. “Uh huh.

“You know a Jongho?” she turned to Yeosang as they spoke.

“Jongho is the youngest of us. You’ll meet him soon, sweetheart,” he reassured, squeezing her arm. “He’s busy too often. I think they overwork him; he’s just a boy.”

“He’s only a year younger than us,” Wooyoung commented with a pout.

“He’s a baby,” San agreed offhandedly.

“I think I—"

“Is she going the hell home or not?” Mingi bit out. Before looking bashfully at her. “Sorry, doll,” he apologized for his gruffness. “I’m not used to a dame being around.”

“Its okay,” she mumbled out. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out why Jongho was at the opera… without his supposed family knowing.

Mingi pouted at that. “No, its not.” He admitted. “Don’t take disrespect.”

Her distracted gaze rose and nodded softly, not really processing his words.

Wooyoung tsked out. “Here he goes about respect,” he sighed out. “Hurry up, swanette, or else we will be here for hours.”

There was a rumble of chuckles in the group. Yeosang squeezed her arm once more before pressing close to her ear, cheek to cheek. A whispered “next time it’ll be just you and I, hm?” was hushed into her ear before he unwound himself from her and allowed the others to hover about. “I’ll see you next time, Miss YN.”

San pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised. “And again, I promise you, I’m fine.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline before guiding her into Wooyoung’s arms.

He was warm and smelt of smoke. His grin was playful, wolfish as he leaned down and stole her lips into a kiss. He was getting bolder and bolder. His kiss was hot, a lick of his tongue into her mouth this time. She squeaked and he chuckled deeply.

“Mmm,” he moaned as he pulled away just a fraction. Wooyoung smiled as if he was innocent but his teases were devilishly. “Perhaps I should call you little mouse instead of swanette.”

She pushed at his chest, playfully. Wooyoung tugged her closer, grinning. Her face was akin to a rose.

“Let her go, Wooyoung,” Mingi said from the side. His face was sharp as he glared at the other. He didn’t appreciate the teasing. “She must be tired.”

Wooyoung heaved a sigh as if this was the hardest thing to do. He pouted at her before stealing a kiss, pressing a peck to her nose. “Fine,” he relented, unwinding her from his spider web embrace.

“See you soon, pretty. Mingi will make sure you get home safely.”

Mingi nodded steadfast before he offered her his hand.

“Shall we, baby-doll?”

Next time, when she woke, it was to a cat’s sandpaper-esque tongue licking her cheek. Little tiny licks with the familiar nuzzle of her wet nose, Z investigated her like any other day. The little more-blue-grey-than-black cat sniffed at her, the talkative pet meowing loudly. Her green eyes blinked slowly at her before she nudged her cheek with her forehead once more.

Her body didn’t burn. It didn’t ache. It didn’t feel like anything. Whatever drugs she was on, they were good. She blinked at the kitten, slow to do anything once more.

She was still in Yeosang’s room. The smell of him was all around her, Jongho’s familiar gardenia aroma mingling in the sheets. YN tried to move. Pushing herself upwards was easier than before but the slightest shift in her legs reminded her of the heavy casts that wrapped her ankles. The pain nothing like before but there was still the zing up her knees that made her pause. Her breath caught as she stared at her limbs before her.

Her reality. Bedbound, grounded. It was a depressing thought. Even more depressing when she realized she wasn’t sure what day it was nor what hour. How many shows had she missed? Did her mother know she wasn’t well? Was she just the same as those folk written about in the papers? Missing and forgotten.

She let out a shuddering breath as she laid back into the fluffy luxurious pillows, contemplating what to do. Should she cry out for them? Hongjoong was the last face she remembered but she didn’t want to see him. Or Seonghwa. Or any of them. Really. Anger burned her throat like the nearby fire place. Z’s whiskers dusted over her arm, nudging at her for attention as she let out another inquisitive meow.

“Leave me alone, Z,” she mumbled into her pillow. The little tongue peaked out to lick her again. “Stop, Z; go away.”

Her tone was raising with her rising grief. That was the only way to describe what she was feeling grief – a mixture of hoping, pleading, that everything had been a dream only to be reawaken to reality. Anger and sorrow clashed like cymbals in her head.

The cat nuzzled her again, and she snapped this time.

“Z, go!” Her hands shifted the quilts aside in a huff, making the little cat hop away, back arched.

“Z, come here,” a voice, melodic as it was masculine, called. The doorway creaked open, the gaslight in the hallway illuminated his figure, bulky in the best way. “Love isn’t in the mood to play.”

She frowned over at him, even if Z hopped off the bed and went towards Jongho eagerly. Her little body pressed against his leg as she passed him, purring softly. He smiled after his kitten before his gaze settled back on his love bed ridden.

“Hi love,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Angry,” she told him.

“But not in pain,” he smiled.

The youngest crawled up onto the bed, sheets rustling and ruffling as he settled beside her. Jongho wasn’t one to be silenced by a glare or dirty look. He was made for this world – his hyungs’ beloved aegi was used to getting what he wanted. And she was his baby. His love. He wanted her.

She turned her rageful eyes his way. He simply smiled just like the others. “I know,” he hummed. “I tried to warn you.”

He had. He cried to her last night… or a few nights ago? Her anger was quenched by those tears now. Her eyes softened just a smidge, and Jongho took a mile. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a soft kiss. His arms wrapped around her ‘til she was caught in his embrace, warm and coddled.

He indulged in the way she didn’t pull away or yell. He had heard her shouts at Yeosang’s attempts at affection.

“What happened? I remember waking up in pain – why?” she murmured into his chest. Trying to gather information from when she was asleep.

Even now, she felt safe in his embrace. It caused a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

He heaved out, her head rising and falling with his chest. “You had an infection – the doctor said it was possible dirt from that alley way. It entered your injury for too long. He fixed it.”

“Is he alive?” she mumbled.

“By Yunho’s grace.”

She felt the ebbing and flowing rage, the despair rush over her again. Almost as if sensing it, Jongho shifted, his chin tilting into his chest to look down at her. He moved to tilt her own chin to meet his gaze. Fiery passion burned there. He liked it better when her passion burned for her dancing… but he supposed it had to go somewhere while she was incapable.

“It’s the way things are,” he told her. “Stop fighting it.”

Stop fighting and give in. Look what fighting did. Just let them control her…

YN scoffed. “I’m not some doll,” she bit back. “Or some—"She wriggled like a worm on a hook. Jongho’s eyes ached, and he reached for her hands. He cupped them in his. His bloodstained ones. How many time had he scrubbed away ichor? Dug it from under his nails? Her hands were dainty.

“It’ll never touch your hands,” he interrupted earnestly. “You’ll never bear it. Our work. Our lifestyles. If that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m bearing it now,” she whispered to him, voice breaking. “I’m afraid of you.”

He frowned, his face firm and thoughtful. He was always thinking her Jongho. He never stopped. His thumbs brushed over her palms, his forehead pressing to hers intimately.

“You tried to leave,” he said. “I didn’t want this. None of us did. If you hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“You understand what that means – I’m just something you control like your butlers and your members and your-.”

“No.” Jongho interrupted soft and earnestly.

“You are no pawn, my love. You are our priority… our treasure. Always.”

#i wasnt lying when i said it was a lot 😭😭#rii's reading #fic recs #fic: like a waltz

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mysteryshoptls · 3 hours ago

Text

SSR Cater Diamond - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Courtyard]

Cater: Whew～ Today's Alchemy class was a real brain wiggler. What class do I got next… Hm?

Cater: Hey… Is that you Leona-kun? Woah, that's a surprise, are you just getting out of class too?

Leona: Shut your trap already… It's got nothing to do with you, Cater.

Cater: No, no, I just wanted to give you the drop on a bit of info. Do you know what tomorrow is?

Cater: You see, it's YA BOI CAY-KUN'S BIRTHDAY ♪

Leona: Oh. Good for you.

Cater: NO REACTION!? I mean, I guess I knew that was coming～

Cater: Shoulda known it wouldn't be easy to get a warm birthday greeting from ol' Leona-kun.

Leona: What nonsense are you spouting? I just did.

Cater: What, you mean when you said "good for you"? C'mon, you just threw that out there 'cause you had to～

Cater: If you're gonna say something, you gotta put more heart into it, not just toss me a few words here and there ♪

Leona: Your birthday's tomorrow, ain't it? I couldn't possibly be rude and wish you a happy birthday the day before all your fellow housemates have a chance to…

Leona: So, bye.

[Leona leaves]

Cater: There he goes again, spouting off whatever… Well, guess I should just consider myself lucky that we got to hold a convo and he didn't just ignore me.

Cater: Alrighty, then. Looks like my next class is Animal Linguistics. I got a feeling I'm gonna get called on today, so I should prep for it.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Cater: Woah, it's that delicious!? I wanna go right away… Oh, but I don't think I'll be able to until after next month.

Cater: Yeaaah, I did terrible on the last Magical History exam～ …Saaame, I wish those tests weren't basically one bit puzzle.

Cater: And also… Oh, we're already back to our rooms. Okay, night～

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: …Whew, finally I'm back.

Cater: I wasn't able to check Magicam while I was in the shower, so I should do that now.

Cater: Oh, looks like some of my old posts are getting likes too. I'm glad people are still seeing what I posted ages ago.

Cater: There's a few comments, too… Ugh, this question is waaay too long.

Cater: Not to mention, half of what they're saying has nothing to do with their question, they're just gabbing on about themselves. Ugggh… It's gonna be a pain to respond…

Cater: But if I leave it for later, I'll want to reply even less～ Guess I should give 'em a response ASAP then.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: "Except, that eye mask was a limited-time item, so if it's already sold out, sorry." …And, send. Was that all of them?

Cater: Whew～ I finally finished responding to everything. Guess now I can go check out everyone else's posts.

[phone pings]

Cater: Huh, who's post is this on trending right… Hey, it's that one guy! I can't believe they got a cat.

Cater: "Your cat looks so soft and suuuuper cute～! Can't wait for more pictures!"

[phone pings]

Cater: Ooh, I like the picture of this guitar. I wanna try customizing like this, too.

Cater: "I can't believe you did all this yourself! I'd love to see the play-by-play of how you made it next time."

[phone pings]

Cater: What else is there…? Oh, hey, I've heard of this Magicammer before. Looks like their video giving a tour of their room is hot right now.

Cater: Woah, that's hella cute! Both the floor and wallpaper are done up so meticulously. The entire room's been designed to mesh well with everything～!

Cater: The little trinkets they have scattered around their room are also all the rage right now, so they might be a good reference to keep in mind. I'll give them a follow.

Cater: Maaan, I wish I had a cute, pastel room like this. I bet they get tons of likes.

Cater: Oh, yeah. I kinda left it 'cause I didn't really have anything to say, but… Guess I could write a suggestion here.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Cater: It's been more or less smooth-sailing ever since I got a single room, so I didn't think I'd really have any complaints…

Cater: But this place is a bit too chic for the kinds of photos I want to post on Magicam. Maybe it's more accurate to say it's cute in an old-fashioned way?

Cater: The colors in the room are more on the darker side, which makes the videos come out too dark…

Cater: And it's a pain always having to lug out my photography equipment each time. I'll just write "I want more attractive walls and floors."

Cater: Honestly, I'd love to be able to do a room tour or a day-in-the-life routine video...

Cater: But I bet there'd be a ton of trouble I could get into when it comes to everyone's privacy if I'm shooting in and around the dorm, so that'd probably be impossible while I'm still attending school.

Cater: Mmkay, then… I'm already ready for bed, so I guess I'll just go to sleep early, ready to tackle the day tomorrow.

[fwumps into bed]

Cater: What time should I set my alarm for…? Oh, there's already a reply on my comment from earlier.

Cater: I should probably respond right away since they were also quick with it, huh… Hmm…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[alarm rings]

Cater: Mmm… Mrrrnngh… Is it morning already…?

Cater: Yawn… What time did I even fall asleep last night?

Cater: I think I was replying to a comment I got wishing me a happy birthday right at midnight… Did I fall asleep in the middle of that?

Cater: Looks like a got a lot more comments after that, too. I need to respond… But before that, there's something else I need to do today.

Cater: Can't just laze about here! I need to go to the washroom and wash my face ASAP!

Cater: My face is washed, and I did my skin care routine… So, let's get started!

Cater: The photography lights are turned on, the reflector board is adjusted, and my phone is on the tripod…

Cater: The plushes in the background are… Good, they're settled nicely on the bed.

Cater: There's nothing in the shot that shouldn't be. Perf, time to start the video!

[phone pings]

Cater: Hey-o everyone, it's Cay-kun! Today, I'm going to show off some base makeup items that's been my go-to these days.

Cater: First up… Here's the UV primer that just came out on the first of this month! I know this has been all the rage lately.

Cater: I've been using this every day since I bought it the day it came out ♪

Cater: And you know what's the best thing about this primer…? It's got no reflective shine at all!

Cater: It's got a nice toning effect, and I think it works well with just a little bit of powder on days when you don't really need to spruce yourself up too much.

Cater: I've fallen in love with it, 'cause whenever I wanna take a pic on the fly, all I have to do is dab a little here and there with a tissue and it looks like I did myself up in proper makeup ♪

Cater: Aaand it rolls on so smoothly, too. I'll apply some now to show you what I mean, so keep your eyes on the screen!

[phone pings]

Cater: …Nice, video done.

Cater: I'll snap a few pictures in the afternoon during break and put together a comparison picture, then edit the video… I guess I'll be able to upload it the day after tomorrow.

Cater: I still have to think about some other stuff like the background music, but I should focus on finishing my makeup for now.

Cater: It's my birthday, so I think I'm leaning towards using some of my more cuter cosmetics… Oh, I know.

Cater: I found it! Here's the glitter eyeliner that I got as a part of that limited-edition holiday cosmetic set!

Cater: Both the package it came in and the glitter itself is waaaaay too cute. I'll draw the line with this, and snap a pic to see…

[snap!]

Cater: Nice, I can see the glitter glimmering around my eye. This'll give my birthday photos a little bit of a different feel from usual.

Cater: As for my hair… Eh, I guess it's going a little too far if I did something with that too. I'll just massage in a little bit of wax and just set it like usual…

Cater: Perf, looks good. Hmmm… I still have a bit of time, so I guess I'll reply to all the birthday comments I got earlier.

Cater: I still need to record a birthday video, and I bet there'll be a party, or at least a get-together with the Pop Music Club...

Cater: Eheheh, I can't wait. I think I'll have enough content to upload to Magicam for a while!

[Main Street]

[Cater chats with everyone]

Cater: Yaay, thanks everyone! …Hm?

Cater: Who's that I spy walking over there…? Oh, hey, it's Leona-kun!

Leona: Cater…! Tch, what'd I do to be this unlucky?

Cater: Ehhh, you really gonna act like that in front of the birthday boooy?

Cater: So, anywaaaay… Remember how you said yesterday that you couldn't possibly be rude and wish me well the day before my birthday?

Cater: Which meeeeeans… Since we've met the day oooooof…

Leona: Yeah, yeah, you don't gotta tell me twice. …......Happy birthday.

Cater: Ahahah, I really got you of all people to wish me a happy birthday! This is gonna be a great year!

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #twst cater #twst leona #twst translation #twst birthday

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iratempestatis · 2 days ago

Note

Saw you asking for Xiao requests and thought I could send some!

This might be a little odd one, but... A self-aware Xiao finding out that he has fans like us who love him kinda romantically? It could be fun!

Xiao Waxes Poetic About Fandom

Xiao x gn!reader, 1.5k words. Anon I'm so sorry but I had actually no idea how to write this adgvhfcdcb. I tried my best but I kept giggling about lost 50/50s and and my 80 cr Xiao never critting without Motivation (crit food). I actually considered making hcs instead but I kept writing drabbles instead. Then I tried to write a fic, but kept writing... hcs... Perhaps if inspiration strikes me I'll revisit this idea someday, but! For now, allow me to present you with what feels like a raccoon in a tiara and a feather duster dress-

If Xiao could control player summons, he’d be yours already.

Unfortunately, he cannot- ergo you’ve made a hundred and forty pulls with not a Xiao in sight.

You've never hated Diluc more in your life, he can tell. Poor Diluc.

There are twenty minutes left for his banner to disappear for Devs know how long. He knows your luck is decidedly not his fault, but feels guilty nonetheless. What if he’s treated the same as Ganyu? Or, Devs forbid, Eula?

You really did look forward to getting him, building him. He was so startled by your devotion- seated on that banner, he could see you anxiously open your inventory, check if you had enough primogems. You pre-farmed for him. You made silly little rituals for him(he winced when they failed). It was absurd. He was a high investment hyper carry. Why bother?

But you pulled Furina, and you pulled Faruzan. You don't have Xianyun (yet, he thinks, in both awe and alarm as he sees her ascension and talent materials in your inventory.)

He cannot fathom it.

Perhaps you wanted Xianyun for herself- but then you also have Faruzan with all of her constellations lit up. And you also have Furina- and god, nevermind, you really did want him. The set you intend to put on Xianyun is the Song of Days Past. Four piece. With energy recharge substats.

You’re so close. Seventy. You get Layla. He echoes you when he mutters “but you’re not even on the banner!”

Twenty minutes left. You caress the screen. (That's a bit much.) Your brows are pinched together, lower lip worried by your teeth.

“I might have to break my free to play status,” you whisper.

It's not worth it! He wants to scream. Don't do it!

You bite your lip again as you find a chest. Primogem count: 159.

Oh dear.

“It’s fine,” you whisper. “It’s fine. This is fine.”

Xiao wishes he could make you go to bed somehow. You’ve been awake for hours. It’s fine even if you don’t pull him now, he returns like clockwork every lantern rite- hm? What are you pulling your Tighnari out for?

He knows you never really bothered to build him prior, purely because farming those fungi was a pain. He watches as you make Yelan rush up to the cliffs of the very Chasm before switching to Tighnari. When he realises what you’re doing, he buries his face in his palms. Your party members groan. Xiao wonders if you’re serious- you want to hit a bird in flight? With your aim?

“FOOL!” Faruzan shrieks. “Attack the ruin guard at Stormbearer instead! That achievement is much easier to get- Hat Guy, do something-“

“Too late.” He smacks his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s started.”

Shing! Nothing Special, Just Practice.

What-?

You whoop, then cough and fall silent, anxiously peeking out of your room. Your fingers shake with trepidation as they land on the screen.

Wish x1.

Xiao feels a familiar tug as he hurtles through the air.

✦—————————————✦

Much to his immense surprise, this is an incredibly familiar story. Every time his banner rolls around there’s people that want him- spend for him, run amok collecting primogems for him. Farming for him. Giving him increasingly prettier and stronger polearms. Thrusting the Staff of Homa in his hands (sorry, Hu Tao).

He’s always a bit baffled, unless the person is someone already inclined to spend. He’s not a good choice for anyone’s account. He’s incredibly unflexible. A bit niche even. He doesn’t even do what his element is meant for.

Yet somehow you seem to enjoy running around with him. Making him special little layouts in the teapot. Insisting he collects your rewards every time. Making him speak to Katheryne every day (it’s so awkward every time, and she keeps laughing when your back is turned).

He remembers doing the Chasm quest with you. When it had begun, you were nothing short of gleeful, which brought him only anguish- he knew in part what had transpired and what was about to- and he knew you’d only be heartbroken by the end of this story.

And you were. You somehow managed to contain yourself till the very end- refusing to move to have even a sip of water until the quest concluded. You were patient- absorbing every every dialogue, every inch of text you could get your hands on.

To be loved is to be known, he thinks amusedly as you sniffle at the conclusion, then immediately open the wiki to confirm some tiny wretched detail. He can’t help but smile to himself a little as you angrily mutter profanities at the advertisements jumping out at you.

✦—————————————✦

“Is she SERIOUS.”

Xiao exhales softly as the Wanderer paces around the teapot. He hasn’t shut up since you logged in- because as soon as you finished your dailies, you occupied yourself straight away with painstakingly modifying the teapot (and crying over changes you accidentally forgot to save), all to welcome home the newest limited anemo five star. He’s been furious since he heard of her and ergo his potentially impending powercreep, much to the amusement of literally everyone besides Barbara, who feels sorry for him and Qiqi, who keeps forgetting who he even is. Xiao wishes he could tell you- he’s sure you’d laugh to no end, but even if he could you probably wouldn’t hear him right now since you’re currently occupied with one of your wretched rituals. This one involves Chongyun and- OH dear, no-

Furina grits her teeth as the glacial greatsword slams into the ground, straight through her neck. Chongyun looks like he really wishes the teapot had a bathroom. Xiao sighs.

Tiny fingers tug on his sleeve. Xiao blinks and turns around to face Sayu, her face puffy, her eyes crusty and glued shut. Eugh. Children really are something sometimes. Xiao considers wiping at her face with his sleeve, but… no. The Wanderer barks a laugh.

“What’s going on?” Sayu yawns. “Who are we pulling for?”

“Chasca,” Xiao says as the Wanderer hisses like a cat. “I wonder if she’ll need Faruzan too?”

They turn to Faruzan, sprawled like a corpse across the grass. You need to touch some too, Xiao thinks. You’ve wasted nearly an hour on the game today, and today has barely begun. He suspects you just like the thrill of gacha and are desperate for a five star. Weren’t you saving up for Xianyun? No matter.

Xiao knows you’ll never stop using him. You love him too dearly and sunk cost fallacy has effectively reeled you in, stored you away in a grimy little box. You’ve invested too much into Xiao to cast him aside now. But the Wanderer…

Barbara trots out the house just as the sky darkens, a cloudy depression opening up in the heavens. The Wanderer finally stops ranting, something about loyalty and actually amusing gameplay. Barbara puts the Tome of Eternal Flow away with a gasp upon noticing the giant HOLE in the sky (how did she just notice? Why is she gasping at the wishing screen when you open it thrice a day?) and gently nudges Faruzan out of her dysania to welcome home the newest anemo dps. Faruzan sniffles. Poor woman. It can’t be easy, dealing with him and the (thankfully, now quiet) ex Fatuus.

You pull. Xiao doesn’t bother holding his breath. It might as well be Bennett pulling, really because recently you’ve been getting exactly nothing of value. Another Faruzan, a Gorou for some godforsaken reason, four rainslashers, and so forth.

“Perhaps you’ll avoid your fourth betrayal,” Xiao muses. The Wanderer shoots him a startled glare, then laughs.

“Perhaps. You’re lucky, twink- NO!”

“Chasca, Flower-Feather Clan. Any disputes you need me to end for you? Depending on the situation, it could cost you a little di-“

✦—————————————✦

All things considered, it’s been a strange few years for Xiao. Since the game’s inception, he’s known he would be consigned to a solitary fate. He’s not a straightforward person, or particularly honest. He’s troublesome to play and troublesome to speak with. His chronicles are drenched in blood and anguish, quietly nestled away in softly murmured dialogue, artifact descriptions and optional adventures. Whatever love he was once showered with had long since washed away by the years that came after. And yet...

People continued to bother reaching past his exterior, reaching about with tender fingers. Wanting to know. Wanting to learn. They spoke of him. They took soft little bunches of their finite time and spun it into stories of him, art of him, words and adoration whispered and passed among one another in the communities they formed- that came together all because of their love for him.

It never failed to astonish him, fill him with gratitude so copious it was difficult to contain at times. It always drove him a bit insane- people loved him enough to painstakingly learn about him, strengthen him. That he was significant enough to sow the seeds of friendship formed by the common love felt for him.

Thinking about it makes him feel a bit silly. He’s just a character. He wonders if the others think about this as well (not Qiqi for sure) but he’s glad to have brought people someone real comfort after his fictional atrocities. Mortals… humans. He snorts a bit. He’ll try a bit harder to crit for you tomorrow.

#xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #x reader #xiao #x gn reader #xiao waxes poetic about fandom #i didn't know what i was doing w this one ngl but i knew if i procrastinated any longer #this wasn't getting posted #iratempestatis

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slxtarchive · 3 days ago

Text

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 … you meet a lovely man at a rooftop bar your friends have been raving about but came across an unexpected connection

✦ ... you walked up the stairs following behind your three friends as they squealed their way to the top. the rooftop bar was dimly lit by hanging lights and warmed up by heaters that were scattered around. it was enclosed by a glass room that had glass walls and roofs allowing you to see the city while also being comfortable and warm. your eyes scanned the room before they landed on him.

the way he looked leaning against the bar counter talking to someone you didn’t bother to look at. the way his white shirt wasn’t too tight but wasn’t too loose framing around him perfectly.

as you walked through the tables and passed many people your eyes never left his. you sat down beside your friends having a perfect view of the bar. you pulled your eyes away from him looking down at the menu to decide what to drink then returned your gaze back onto him only to see one man standing there.

the man that he has been talking to left so he was alone drinking at the bar. you bit your cheek, “do you guys see him?” you asked your friends who said around the table. they all looked back. “oh my — not at the same time!” you whispered harshly covering your eyes.

they all giggled before one spoke up. “yeah why?”

you licked your lips. “i think im gonna go talk to him. he’s cute and i want to live it up before classes start.” you nodded building up the courage as you spoke up about it. they all agreed and nodded encouraging you to go.

you took a deep breath before getting up and starting to walk to him before turning around and sitting back down. “yeah no, i need a drink first.” you let out a sigh.

they all laughed and awed, “let’s get a drink in you then babe.”

the night went on allowing you to have a few drinks and before you knew it, you were sauntering your way toward him with a drink in your hand. you were slightly tipsy but not too much to where you wouldn’t be able to make good choices.

you slowly made your way toward him, “hi..” you said quietly, earning a head turn. “sorry… i uh..” you froze. there he was sitting on the bar stool looking up at you.

he had a soft smile on his lips. “hello…?” he was confused but slightly entertained.

you cleared your throat. “sorry! sorry i just.. i thought you were very cute and well — you look lonely — not that that’s a bad thing though! you could just be independent… or maybe you’re okay with being alone—not that i think you’re here alone but i mean you are… um.” you blabbered until you lost your breath. he fought a chuckle.

he tilted his head admiring the way your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i am here alone, lonely if that’s what you call it and thank you for the compliment. you’re very… cute… as well.” he spoke so eloquently. “would you like to join me?”

you bit your cheek. “that’d be great.” you said breathlessly.

as the night went on you both knocked back a few more drinks talking about god knows what. it was small talk at first, favorite movies and go-to places to eat then you got deeper, about how you both grew up and your parents and it was just going on and on and on.

one thing led to another and you both had went to his house nothing but list visible in his eyes. making out on his bed no thought of tomorrow on your mind.

he kissed up your neck, losing control while feeling up your delicate soft skin, marking you as if you were his. he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you both stripped naked and buried yourself under the sheets.

he touched you and made you feel good in the best way possible. his fingers bringing you to a near orgasm before he pulled them away and couldn’t hold control himself any longer. he pumped his hard cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance and inching inside you slowly. “fuck—oh my fuck please.” you begged, as he stood still for a few moments.

he slowly moved inside you nudging that spongy spot that has your toes curl. “where have you been all my life, pretty girl?” he questioned when he noticed your legs shake with anticipation. “feel so fighting good wrapped around me. gonna cum for me? milk my cock like a good girl?” he purred eliciting one final moan before you clenched around him.

the slight squeeze brought him to his own orgasm as he spilled inside of you. breathless you both laid beside each other not saying one word.

a minutes passed he rolled over pulling you in by your waist. “is it odd if i barely asked for your number?” a cute awkward tone found in his voice.

you giggled as he buried his face into your neck. “not at all.”

you went home the next day nonstop thinking about that night. you had texted back and forth about whatever came up to your mind before he asked if he could take you out to dinner in the following week. you agreed, wanting to get to know him more.

you told yourself you probably shouldn’t have started to date at that moment because of classes starting but you couldn’t help that connection you felt with him.

on your way to class the following monday you responded to sam’s message he sent about asking when you were free. you responded by asking why he was up so early and stating you would be free on friday.

your head buried in your phone you finally reached your class and walked in with a confident smile but as soon as you looked up, your chest tightened and your heart dropped to the floor.

there he was, wearing a white button up shirt and black trousers with shiny black shoes. he was looking at you, he was writing his name in the board. professor golbach.

you were fucked.

#𖦹°‧★ 𝑺𝑳𝑿𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬 #𝑺𝑨𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑯 ᝰ.ᐟ #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam golbach imagine #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby smut #colby and sam #sam golbach #sam x reader #sam and colby #sam #sub sam golbach #sam golbach edit #sam golbach fluff #sam golbach fic #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach au #professor!sam golbach

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witchybitchycrybaby · 3 days ago

Text

Till death do us...

Emmrich Volkarin x reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You throw awkward necromancy pick-up lines just to see how he reacts.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I haven’t played the game yet so I’m sorry for any inconsistencies. Also, I need this man carnally.

Professor Emmrich Volkarin had endured many things through his lifetime—and seen even more. He’d also had his fair share of lovers and infatuations. You, however, were a different kind of experience.

You’ve been together for a while now, and yet you still found ways to leave him breathless and completely undone. Not always exactly by what you did to him in your bedroom...

Like, for example, this one time when Emmrich was summoning the spirit of the dead after Neve had asked him for help. You’ve been very observant throughout the whole occurrence—and rather helpful too. It was after Neve thanked him and left the library that you made a remark that almost swept him off his feet.

„You know,” you started as he made his way to one of the bookshelves, „I tried to summon a spirit once.”

„Oh, and pry tell, how did it go? Did you succeed?” Emmrich turned to look at you, there was a hint of pride in his smile.

You intertwined your fingers behind your back and slowly came closer to him, a teasing grin on your face. „Yes and no,” you said as you were finally standing mere inches from him. „You see, professor Volkarin, all I got was butterflies whenever you walk by.”

Oh, you got him. You got him good.

He stilled, his whole body frozen at your words. His eyes widened, and the smile dropped from his face. Your dear necromancer was stunned into silence, only able to look at you with those big, wide eyes. You could practically see the gears in his head moving, trying to process what you had just said to him.

He regained his composure, of course, but not before you could enjoy his panicked expression.

„Butterflies,” he repeated, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain some semblance of dignity. You could, however, see the faintest shade of pink creeping up his cheeks. Somehow, that made you smile even more.

„You truly have a way with words, don’t you, my dearest?” He paused, and you noticed his eyes softening as his gaze quickly flickered once from your eyes to your lips and back. „I must admit, that was the most charming way someone has ever paid a compliment to me.”

You hummed, clearly happy with yourself. Oh, and how well did that look suit you. Emmrich felt like he could be undone by just that alone—by just looking at you and at that smugness mixed with love in your eyes.

And then you placed your hands on his shoulders and climbed on your toes. His hands found their way to your waist on their own accord, as if there was where they belonged. You kissed him softly then. It was almost too short of a kiss for him when you leaned back a little bit and pretended to smooth the wrinkles on his shirt that weren’t even there.

„I’ll consider it a great achievement, then.”

You took a step back, getting just out of his reach. Emmrich’s hands fell away from your waist, his fingers aching to pull you back into his arms.

„You know, Emmrich,” you said turning back to him as you were leaving the library, „I think I quite like it when you’re speechless, so I don’t think I’ll stop at just this one.”

And just like that, you disappeared behind the door, leaving the necromancer alone, his hands clenching into fists.

Or this other time when you both were in your bedroom. You were sitting at the vanity table, thoroughly brushing your hair, and Emmrich was still deep in some research, scribbling notes at the desk.

You then put the brush away and turned to look at him, at how the quill in his hand scratched against the parchment. And an idea slowly bloomed in your mind.

„Emmrich?” You said, trying to get his attention. He hummed and knowing he’s listening, you continued. „Are we in a graveyard? Because my love for you is six feet deep.”

Emmrich’s quill stilled, and you heard him exhale slowly. He turned in his chair to look at you.

„Pardon?” He asked, and it was all you needed.

Your lips curled into a smirk, and you came closer to him. Your eyes were bright, mischief dancing in them.

„Oh, you heard me.”

A pause.

„I... I hoped I didn’t.”

You laughed then. A sound so sweet his heart fluttered and danced in his chest.

„I have some more of these, you know. Would you like to hear them?”

You sounded almost cheerful. And who was Emmrich Volkarin to take away your joy? So he just sighed and put his quill in the ink bottle. His eyes then returned to yours, waiting. You could sense the silent question in them: I love you, you are my everything, but also, why?

„Alright.” He said reluctantly. „Let’s hear it.”

„If you were a spirit, I’d let you haunt me forever.”

He chuckled despite himself. „This one was almost sweet, dearest.”

You beamed at him and his breath hitched at the sight.

„Oh, yes, I’m quite pleased with myself, thank you. But I can do better.” You cleared your throat. „Are you a necropolis? Because I’d love to get lost in you.”

Emmrich sighed again, but this time he also pinched the bridge of his nose. You, however, didn’t give him time to comment and immediately started talking again.

„I’d say you’ve put a spell on me, but honestly, I think it’s just necromantic attraction. You get it? Nec-romantic.” You winked at him, clearly delighted by your own wordplay.

„Darling—„ he groaned.

But you were already sliding onto his lap, your legs on either side of his. One of your hands found its place just above his heart, while the other started playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

„I know you love me.” Your smile softened as his arms embraced you.

„Tragically, yes.”

You gasped dramatically with feigned offence, and pressed a hand to your chest. „Tragically? You wound me, my love.”

„I assure you,” Emmrich said dryly, „it’s nothing a little resurrection can’t fix.”

Your hand came back to its place right above his heart. You could feel it beating frantically beneath your palm and you grinned. „It’s good to see you getting into the spirit of it!”

His hands tightened at your waist. „Did I just— Did you just say—„

„Resurrection? Yes. In the spirit of it? Also yes.” You confirmed with a smug expression on your face.

He just stared at you, his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t really know what. He sighed and rested his forehead against your shoulder. „Maker, have mercy...”

„I don’t think the Maker will listen to your prayers, my love.”

You then took his face in your hands and kissed him, soft as butterfly wings. You were so gentle, it was almost cruel. Emmrich tightened his hold on you as if he was afraid you’d disappear. You wandered with your kisses; your lips brushed against his, then against the corner of his lips, then his jaw. You were savoring him, tasting him, like you had all the time in the world.

When you pulled back, Emmrich chased after you, whispering your name like a prayer. His eyes were dark and half-lidded, and his cheeks adorned a delicate flush of the softest pink. You brushed your thumbs over his heated skin, which earned you a shudder from Emmrich. Gods, you’d never seen a man more beautiful.

„So,” you said, a teasing tone returning to your voice, „do you want to hear one more?”

For a second, there was confusion on Emmrich’s face. But a second later he groaned and leaned his head back. As if that could stop you from completely undoing him.

„No.”

„Are you sure?”

You pulled him so that he had no choice but to look at you again. You almost laughed at his strained face.

„Yes.”

„...I think you’re lying.”

He took a deep breath and then exhaled sharply. When he finally spoke, you could tell he was already regretting this decision to indulge you.

„Fine. One more.”

You actually giggled like a child, preparing yourself to speak.

„It’s gonna be a bad one.”

„I’ve never ruled out that possibility.”

„Okay, okay, so... I bet you’re great with your hands.” There was a brief pause, but Emmrich only blinked. „You know, you handle bones all day, precise movements and all.”

Silence.

Even more silence, followed by even more blinking.

„Did you like it?” You asked, but you already knew the answer. You wondered if he was questioning his life choices right now.

Emmrich opened his mouth only to close it again, pressing his lips into a thin line.

„I—„ he paused, clearly flustered, and shook his head. „I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned, darling.”

At this point you couldn’t hold back any longer, and a laugh bubbled up from your chest. Your face lit up with joy and satisfaction. You leaned closer so that your faces were mere inches away.

„Oh, come on,” you teased, your fingers tracing shapes at the back of his neck. „You did like it a little, am I right? I mean, I’m just trying to... raise your spirits.”

You winked at your last words, and felt his fingers digging into your body. Not in a painful way, but in the way that told you to be careful with what you said next.

„Raise my spirits?” He repeated, tilting his head.

„Well, yes. Among other things.”

„My dearest heart...” You could almost hear the warning in his voice. Almost. So you kissed his lips, ready to deliver the final blow.

„What do you say we go to bed? I’d like to see if I can make you breathless for different reasons than my pick-up lines.”

Emmrich sighed deeply, almost resignedly.

„This is what I get for indulging you.”

You laughed, softer this time, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. „Come to bed, Emmrich.”

„...Very well. But if I hear one more necromantic innuendo before dawn, I swear—„

But before he could finish you kissed him. Hard this time. There was a promise in a way your lips moved against his. Emmrich responded immediately, his lips parting slightly as if you were his god, for whom he was ready to sacrifice himself.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you, as though you weighed nothing. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he moved towards your bed.

„I love you,” you breathed between the kisses, your finger already working on the buttons of his shirt.

„I love you, too.”

Emmrich laid you on the soft mattress, his touch reverent. He placed his hands on both sides of your head and rested his forehead against yours.

„You are going to be the death of me,” he whispered. „And I fear I will go willingly.”

#emmrich volkarin #emmrich x reader #x reader #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #fluff #emmrich fluff #fanfic #datv #dragon age the veilguard #emmrich x rook #emmrich volkarin x rook

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gingernut1314 · 2 days ago

Text

Like Seahorses Do ch. 9

Summary: Silco comes up with a plan to bring Viktor's father back home. A plan that goes wrong.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, young Felicia, young Connol, baby Vi, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, canon typical violence (lots of fighting in this one), guns/blood, more feelings confessing, reader has water manipulation, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 8.9K

Tag List: @miffysoo , @teriyakiitae , @locinne , @equaniimouxx , @cipher-nine

@shi-toshi , @sebastianlover

A/N: ....heyyy....so....it's been a mintue...sorry...life is been a bit crazy and the fandom hopping, I can't help it 😭 buutt have an extra long chapter as my apology!! I hope you all enjoy!

↞ to The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Act 3

“We’ve gone on more dangerous jobs Topside than finding and bringing back poor Nikolai.” Silco huffed from where he stood before the bar at The Last Drop the next night. Connol and Felicia stood on his left side, while you and Sevika stood on the other, all huddled up tight as you tried to come up with a plan to get Nikolai back to the Lanes without paying that damn toll. “We’d be in and out before the sun even rose.”

“I know we’ve been on more dangerous jobs. I know it’d be quick. But that’s it--we. Not you two alone.” Vander huffed right back at him as he mixed up a drink. Benzo, who was also working behind the bar, reached across Vander to grab a whiskey bottle.

“I don’t know, Vander. Maybe it’s for the best they go it alone.” Benzo started as he reached with his other hand for three shot glasses. “Better only two get sent to Stillwater than all of us.” Benzo teased, making Silco frown deeply his way.

“How ‘bout you shut your gob and pass me one of those.” You insisted, stretching passed Silco to lean on the bar top, holding a hand of wiggling fingers out for Benzo to do as you said. But Benzo did the exact opposite of handing you a shot and began to laugh his ass off at you.

“Gob? You call that an insult?” You furrowed your brows at him.

“It’s--yes.” You hissed. “Gob like a mouth like--” You glanced towards Felicia for help but she had turned her eyes towards where Vi was rushing about the bar, causing chaos that most didn’t seem to mind.

Connol was the one who caught your eye, rubbing a hand over his short-cropped hair a few times as he shrugged.

“That's not half bad. You know why, Zozo.” Connol started, a bit of playfulness shining in his eyes you all rarely saw. He was more the stoic type, but Felicia had seemed to soften his rugged edges a bit.

Benzo made a greatly displeased face at Connol. “Zozo, aw gods that horr--”

“Cause in the mining world a gob is where we put all the extra waste.” Connol chuckled an airy thing. You cracked a wicked grin, a high laugh on your lips.

“Agreed. Stop spewing such utter waste about the plan and focus.” Silco coldly shot Benzo’s way, the man seeming to have traded his smile for Silco’s frown.

“Zozo, don’t let them get to you.” Felicia butted in, taking her eyes off Vi for a moment to throw Benzo a kind smile.

“Gods, Zozo again!” Benzo groaned, passing the shots to the three awaiting customers. Felicia shook her head with a smirk as she looked back towards the rest of you all.

“No one’s getting thrown into Stillwater though. I think--” The sound of shattering glass, a sharp hey!, and a very angry toddler’s babish, yet strangely mean words cut Felicia off. “Oh! Ah! Sorry! Vi. No, no!” She rushed off towards her now screeching three-year-old, Connol watching the whole scene in amusement.

“Can we focus?” Sevika hissed, blowing a stream of smoke from her lungs. “I’ll go with them. How about that?” She huffed Vander’s way, who was still looking all too concerned about this small little trip.

“I guess--”

“No,” Silco cut his brother off, making a spark of that wolfish anger flash through Vander’s eyes. “Sevika is to go speak with her father. Gather him and his men to our cause. We need the muscle.”

“No fucking way I’m going to speak with that old bastard.” Sevika slammed her fist on the bar top beside where you had been leaning your hands. She bent down to all but grit her teeth in your face. “Just cause you two are back to being joined at the lips doesn’t mean you can go around tellin’ him my personal shit.” She hissed in your face, the remaining smoke from her lungs blowing into your face.

“I told him when you told me years ago. I didn’t know what a secret was then, Vika.” You bit back.

“And that’s supposed to make it any better?” She pulled away with a shake of her head. “Good fucking grief, guppy.”

“Wait--lips?” Felicia popcorned back in, a fighting and red-faced Vi in her arms. “You two kissed? Again? No fight after? When?” She demanded, passing Vi off to Connol who got a cubby little fist to the jaw.

You thought back to how he’d kissed you last night. How he’d held your jaw so gently. How his lips had fit so perfectly against yours. Too perfectly. How he’d kissed you before saying goodnight and how he’d kissed you after he’d come back from work this morning. How he’d taken your hand and pulled you around the corner to kiss you before you two had joined the group in here.

“Uh--” You stammered, brain buzzing in the memory of them all. “We--the plan. We need to refocus on the plan.” You managed, glancing up at Silco to find that a dusting of pink had spread over his cheeks. Seafoam eyes looked over your face. Eyes that lingered ever so slightly on your lips.

Gods. You almost grabbed him then to give him an even closer view.

“I agr--” Silco could hardly finish his word before Sevika was speaking again.

“Just last night. Heard her telling Nadia all the hot and heavy details.” Sevika smirked making your heart spike sharply in your chest in slight panic. Felicia gave a delighted gasp, eyes glancing between the two of you.

“Tell me, tell me please.” She reached across the way to grab your hand and give it a little tug.

“Sevika is overexaggerating it.” You grit, shooing Felicia’s hand away. “It wasn’t--well it was hot but I wouldn’t say it was heavy,” Felicia giggled and you couldn’t help but let your fluttering stomach pull one from you too. Silco said your name exasperated. “Oh--sorry.” You gave Silco a little apologetic shrug. “I still don’t think I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

“It’s not a secret.” Silco huffed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so that he could pull your back flush against his chest. You wrapped your hand around his wrist as your stomach gave a giddy little flutter.

Not a secret.

It was a sentiment that made you feel all warm inside.

“But what we do is none of you nitwits concern.” Silco hissed it around the small huddle of your friends, who all wore various different looks of amusement. “Besides, it’s only been a day.”

“How long have you two known each other?” Sevika sounded like she’d grown bored of this conversion, but one look at her face showed the mischief still raging in her eyes.

“Ten years.” You and Silco both responded without so much as a moment of hesitation. It only made Felicia’s smile wider.

“Ten years of friendship and annoyingly pining over each other. I’d say it’s reason enough to fuck.” Sevika very bluntly said. A bluntness that had your face feeling like you’d shove it into a pot of boiling water and Silco’s grip around you tightened the slightest bit.

“You’re godsdamn lucky Nadia isn’t here to scold you.” You hissed, giving her a shove that didn’t even move a single hair on her head.

“It’s good to go slow.” Felicia chimed in, dodging another flying fist from her kid. “Otherwise you might end up with a perfect little boxer.” She grabbed Vi’s chubby cheeks and littered it with kisses. Vi complained but held still to receive the affection.

Your heart hallowed out enough it loosened your hold on that nagging voice in the back of your mind.

You had slept with people you had had zero feelings for outside of an appreciation of their looks. You knew Silco had too so you couldn’t help but think should you have?

There was no question in your mind about whether or not you wanted to. You did. Oh gods you did but a relationship like this with your good friend and someone you’d liked for such a long time was different. You didn’t know a single thing about being in a serious relationship.

Was this serious?

Was this--

“Again,” Silco began, his thumb rubbing over your exposed collarbone in a way that had you forgetting about that nagging little voice. “It is none of your concern.” He leveled Sevika with a threat-filled glare she gruffed at but lowered her gaze to.

“Well--all I’ll say is it's about damn time.” Benzo chimed in, a friendly smile on his face. “Better than you two squabbling all the time.” He slid a shot down the way for you, just as you had asked moments ago.

“Now,” Vander spoke once more, a happy little smile on his lips and a gleeful sparkle in his eyes that had quelled the wolf altogether. “Silco, rework the plan. You two won’t go alone but we do need to get Nikolai.” Silco huffed at this.

“If we send Sevika, Connol, and Benzo to meet with Sevkia’s father--” Sevika cut Silco off with a growl.

“I said I’m not gonna mee--”

“I don’t wish to make ya go meet with him, Sevika, but we need all the support we can get.” Vander started, beginning to make a fresh drink. “The situation at the border is only going to get worse. We all know that. Would you like me to go instead?” Sevika watched him for a long moment, gray eyes hard and top lip twitching in her anger.

“No. He won’t speak with you.” She took a long, deep drag of her blunt. “Fuck it. Whatever. Next part of the plan.”

“We three can go find Nikolai.” Silco gestured to Vander, you, and himself. “Nadia said their friend's home is one street up from the northernmost bridge. We’ll have to cross the river and hope Nikolai stays put.”

“And how are we gonna get ‘cross the river?” Vander asked, placing a little flower on the top of the drink he had just made before passing it to a girl down the way. He came back over, a few coins in hand.

Silco looked to you and you to him.

You were the plan to get across the river. You were going to use your magic to create a small bubble of air for Silco so that you could swim him across under the water. That way no one would see you.

But now, with the added mix of Vander who knew nothing of your powers, would complicate things. You hadn’t really ever planned on telling him of them. Telling any of your friends about them. Magic wasn’t something people tended to think fondly of.

“We’ll swim across of course.” Vander raised a brow at Silco’s almost too-cocky words.

“You can’t swim.” Silco shrugged.

“She’s been teaching me.” Vander continued to watch you both with an “I’m not believing this for two seconds” look. “It’ll be fine. Just go with it.”

“What about me?” Felicia asked. “I want to be involved too. I can still kick ass with a baby strapped to my chest. She’ll help too.” Silco looked to Vander who both then looked to Felicia.

“Well, the plan was you would go stay with Nadia.” This only earned Silco a sharp glare.

“So I’m stuck on babysitting duty?” Felicia snapped.

“It is your ankle bitter.” This only earned you an equally as sharp glare.

“It’s not just my ankle bitter.” Felicia shoved her pink-painted pointer finger into Connol’s shoulder, pulling a small ow from his lips. “Why don’t you stay on babysitting duty, huh?”

“Babe, I would much rather watch Vi then go meet with Sevika’s papa.” Connol readjusted his grip on his kid, who was now trying to throw herself backward out of his arms.

“Alright then. Change the plan.” Felicia gestured to Silco to do so.

“This is the last time I am involving you all in the creation of any plan. I am the plan maker. I make the plans.” Silco gruffed her way, but Felicia only threw him a wink. “Fine. Connol will stay with Nadia and Vi and Felicia will go with Sevika and Benzo. There. Do we all agree on the plan?” Everyone in the group gave a round of nods and sounds of agreement.

“I still would like to know how we’re going to get ‘cross the river,” Vander said. You grabbed for the shot Benzo had given you and held it up his way.

“You’ll like it. It’ll be fun.” And you downed the burning liquid in one go.

“All this talk of crossing rivers reminds me of this old song my mom used to sing to me before bed…oh how did it go.” Felicia mused, looking over her daughter's face in thought. A soft, not very in-tune hum sounded from Connol, pulling Felicia’s eyes to him.

“That one?” Felicia beamed up at him with a nod. “Popular amongst our parents huh?”

“What else is there to do besides get crafty when Topside locks you completely out?” Felicia muttered, eyes squinting a bit in further thought before her whole face lit up once more on a small gasp. “Oh! Got it!” And she began singing the lyrics to the tune Connol had started. Her voice was beautiful and instantly caught the attention of Vi, who was rightfully transfixed with it.

A deep, buried part of you knew you’d heard it before. A deep part of you that didn’t even feel like it was supposed to be you, but it was there nonetheless. It remembered you of that tugging, calling you’d followed to save all those kids years ago.

It was something that scared you. That made you feel--other. Other than human. Other than a living breathing being and more like a cold, watery thing that was called around by the arcane.

You instantly snuggled deeper into Silco’s chest, needing to be reminded that you were in fact, standing there with him. To feel him hold your physical body that was breathing. That was living.

Silco was glad to hold you closer. Glad to move his hand around to find yours, intertwining his long fingers with yours.

“Lullabies get you nowhere.” Sevika hissed, stubbing out the small bit of her blunt left in the ashtray before her. “Our parents were cowards.”

“Good thing we aren’t.” Silco gave your hand a squeeze.

Your grip on Silco’s hand tightened as you yanked him sharply behind a few stacked crates on the Undercity’s side of the river. It seemed that blocking the bridges off hadn’t been enough, they had needed to send enforcers patrolling the wharf as large spotlights illuminated the surrounding areas in search of any that might be trying to cross.

You two had expected there might be a stray enforcer or two. That you would have to work fast as soon as Vander joined you to get across in case someone spotted you.

But this many enforcers--it was as if you had kicked a bee hive and sent all their drones on high alert.

You hadn’t expected this and Silco definitely hadn’t, otherwise it would have been put into his plan. A plan that was currently going way off course. So off course it had made Silco’s caltualting brain freeze, nearly getting him spotted by one of those enforcers had you not dragged him back here.

You’d known Silco to freeze up like this before. Mainly during jobs you two and Vander did Topside that didn’t go as planned.

He froze when he was scared too. Vander had told you of his worry about it a while ago. How it’d almost gotten him killed down in the mines during cave-ins.

You thought it was cute. Gave you something you could do for him. Had let you get close to him before you two caved to your feelings.

“Gods--” Silco gave a frustrated little sound as you slowly peeked around the crates, finding a group of three enforcers had stopped just a little ways away from you. “I--sorry.” You waved the apology off as one of the enforcers started complaining about how she was going to miss the game tonight cause she was stationed here.

“Ugh--I’ll never get over how fucking dull Pilties are.” You murmured, pulling back to a crouch before Silco, who you’d all but thrown against the crates, long legs sprawled to the sides and hair scrunched against the salt-stained wood. “It’s like they’re programmed to all think and talk about the same shit. Oh yes, let's go toss that egg-shaped ball and give each other concussions. Or, or! The spouse is nagged at me to lose some weight again. And blah, blah, blah.” You gave a goofy smile Silco’s way, to which he only continued to stare up at you nearly dumbfounded.

“I--you know I almost just got us caught right?” Silco pulled himself up a bit from his thrown position. “I froze.” You shrugged.

“And? It would have been fun, huh?” You shuffled closer so that you could lean closer to him. “High stakes. Fast chase. We would have beat them obviously.” The corner of Silco’s lips pulled upward. A small tug that pulled into that easy smile you liked to see him look at you with.

He dug his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and as he pulled it out, the smallest flash of gold caught your eye.

You thought for a moment he had pulled the flask you had given him out, but what he held was too small and easily concealed within his palm.

“What do you have?” You asked, shuffling ever closer. “Something shiny.” Silco gave a small exhale of amused air.

“How did you even see that?” You shrugged.

“I like gold. I like shiny. I like shiny gold. I’ve trained my eyes to spot it.” Silco gave another small chuckle.

“You remember the second time you, me, and Vander snuck our way Topside? Back when we were kids?” You nodded, eyeing up his fist to try and spy what he held within it one last time.

“You convinced Vander that going to the beach was a risk worth taking after the job we pulled.” You mused and you thought of those beaches. How clean they had been. How the waters, even though they were connected to the same grand sea, had sported not a single speck of trash. How the sands had been yellow-white and full of the most gorgeous shells you had ever seen.

It was found memory for you, being able to see such beautiful waters, but a memory tinted in bitterness towards the people who wished to rule over you all completely.

Your beaches and waters were nothing like theirs, even when they were so close. Even when they were made from the same lands and waters. Yet yours were full of toxins so potent it left stains on a person if left in them too long. That corrupted one's body--ate away at it. Toxins so strong they had left the sandy beaches a pitch black.

You loved your waters, but seeing how--natural everything was Topside had left a sour taste in your mouth.

“And you remember that small sand dollar you found and I foolishly broke?” The anger at Piltover simmered in the background of your mind as Silco continued to recount the trip. “Instead of getting upset, you gave me a half. Said it would be a physical showing of our friendship.”

“I do remember.” You nodded, though your heart sank a small bit. “I--Silco, I lost my half.”

“No, you didn’t.” You blinked at him. Then again.

“How would you--”

“I might have snuck into your apartment…took it off your bedside table.” You gapped at him.

“How--Sevkia would have killed you if she had seen you break in.” Silco tossed you a cocky little smirk.

“You two don’t get off work till seven. I get off at five. I had time. And you really should change the hiding place for your spare key. Very obvious.” You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder a small shove.

“You gonna give me my half back?” You held your hand out, palm side up as you gave your fingers a little wiggle.

Silco opened his hand to reveal what he had been hiding from you. It was the two halves of sand dollar, but small, delicate holes had been made to the tops to fit a gold bail in each. Brown leather had been threaded through that to create a pair of matching necklaces. And to top it all off, small, golden charms had been added as well. Two seahorses.

“Nikolai put them together for me. Made the charms.” You ran your fingertip gently over the half you knew to be yours.

“And did Nadia know?” You found Silco’s eyes again, but he shook his head.

“Nearly killed the man trying to keep it a secret from his wife…but we all know Nadia is worse at keeping secrets than even you.” He teased.

“I only don’t keep them from you. Never felt right.” Silco’s seafoam eyes filled in that warm softness he only ever showed you.

“I wanted to give this to you earlier in apology for my behavior but…I was--nervous.” You nodded in agreement knowing you had felt those very same overwhelming nerves too. You ran your fingers from the rough sea dollars to feel over the heel of his palm. “I am glad you broke our silence. It was eating me alive.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t break it sooner. I was nervous too.” Silco gave you a smile that was just as warm as his eyes were. A smile, though not toothy as others might give, was the most breathtaking smile you had ever seen. Would ever see.

“I was thinking you’d wear my half and I’d wear yours.” He started, grabbing up the half that was his. A half that was a bit more jagged and held a long, oval hole in its side. “In way of showing our friendship, yes, but also in promise we’ll be there for each other. You once told me seahorses mate for life…” You nodded as he reached to clasp the necklace around your neck. “Well…I wish that for us. For us to be together. Side by side. For as long as you’ll have me.”

His words hit you like a brick. Words that filled your chest in such excitement and warmth you didn’t know what to do with it all. A happiness that made your cheeks sting from the wide smile your lips refused to let go of.

“I’ll have you.” You took your side of the necklace from Silco’s palm, seafoam eyes tracking your every move as you clasped it around his own neck. “I’ll have you for a long, long time. Till we’re old and wrinkled and can’t make it down the stairs.” You pulled a small chuckle from Silco as you let your fingers trace the skin of his collarbone, right where the sand dollar lay.

“I was miserable when we fought.” You continued, “All I wanted to do was talk with you. Be with you. I don’t see that changing any time soon. You make me happy. I want to be by your side for a long, long time. I hope we can hold on to each other like seahorses do against rough currents.”

Silco’s fingers brushed over your cheek, holding it so tenderly in his palm as he looked at you like you were some rare gem hidden amongst dull rock and coal.

“I’ll hold on. Face whatever is to come as long as I have you by my side.” You nodded in utter agreement as he pulled you ever closer.

“Head on, right?” The pointed tip of Silco’s nose fluttered over yours, an amused huff of air puffing against your skin.

“Yes, head on. Together.” Slightly caped lips pressed sweetly against yours. Lips that moved against yours, turning your mind to pleasant mush in your skull. Lips that swept the whole world away like some storming sea. Lips you thought about so much, it might have become an addiction.

“Boy, am I glad you two are finally together.” You and Silco jumped at the deep voice that sounded hushly in your ears.

Teeth clanked and noses squished together in both your startled natures, faces whipping around to find the larger form of your friend kneeling there beside you two.

“What in--how long have you been there?” Silco venomously hissed at Vander who kept on watching you with an all-too-happy grin on his lips.

“Just got here.” He sounded not at all bothered by the bite in Silco’s tone. Though you knew Vander was more than used to the sharp way his brother spoke. “Ya know, from the moment Silco rushed to save you from those carp-brained idiots from the docks, I knew he was smitten with you. Could tell you’d been smitten with him long before that.” You couldn’t help the giddy little laugh that spilled from your lips.

“I mean--how couldn’t I have been?” You grabbed Silco’s nose gently between your index and middle finger, giving it a small shake. “Look at him. I was a goner as soon as I laid eyes on him.” Silco huffed grumpily, shooing your hand away as that dusting of pink you loved made another appearance. A dusting that turned into a splash of red when Vander gave a little too loud a laugh for your surroundings.

You three tensed at the sound of voicing of too-close enforcers. Before any officers could come to snoop around the crates you were heading behind, you three slipped through the long shadows the spotlights cast around and found cover behind a dumpster in a smelly alleyway.

“Place is with swarming with bucket heads, huh?” Vander voiced as Silco peeked his head around a bag of trash.

“They’re taking what happened at the bridge more seriously than I originally thought they would,” Silco mumbled, tracking a pair of enforcers that walked past the alley.

“Who knows what they told their fancy pants council.” You hissed, “Probably tried to cover their asses. Tell them we took the first shot.”

“Once Nikolai is outta there and safely back down here, then we’ll push them back Topside,” Vander said. That’s when you noticed what he’d been carrying around with him. What he had taken so long to get before meeting you two here.

His pair of mining gauntlets.

He was ready to fight. Oh he was more than ready. The wolf had overtaken his gentle eyes. Eye now fully committed and bloodthirsty to the revolution you all had been dreaming about.

“How are we gettin’ across, sweetheart?” You glanced back to Silco who was already looking back to you. He gave you a small, steadfast nod in reassurance.

“Okay--promise not to freak out?” You started as you began unscrewing the top of the canteen of water you kept attached to your belt. Vander’s brows furrowed in confusion at your words.

“Freak out? What would I freak out about?” You sighed dramatically.

“Just promise.” You insisted, a flicker of amusement pulling at Vander’s features.

“Okay, okay. I promise.” You watched him for a second longer before grabbing for the water within the canteen with your magic. You pulled a flowing line of water from its metal confines, letting it twirl and twist around in the space between you and Vander.

And Vander looked--pale. Like he was gonna freak out.

“Oh--shit.” He muttered.

“You promised not to freak out.” Your heart hallowed out as he continued to look so utterly shell-shocked. You unconsciously pulled your waters closer, allowing them to snake around your fingers.

“I’m not.”

“Are too.” You quickly shot back.

“Did--Silco knew?” Vander asked, looking towards his brother who had pressed his shoulder against yours.

“Of course I knew.” Silco sounded almost proud of this fact. That he had been the only one to know for so long.

“He stumbled upon me throwing those carp-brain idiots into the harbor with it. I probably wouldn’t have told him if he hadn’t seen me do it. People and the arcane don’t like to mix.” Vander continued to watch you. Watch the waters you were nervously pressing into a ball between your hands. “Are you--scared? Do you--I wish you would say something.”

“Sorry--I--sorry. It’s just--no. No, I’m not scared.” Vander started, though it did nothing to help ease your fears. “I’m shocked is all. This is--you don’t see this every day.” You nodded in understanding.

Something like two pieces of a puzzle seemed to click together in his mind. “You--when that pipe burst in the Drop but the water somehow found a way to stay in a nice pool instead of flooding the whole place. That was you?”

“Yep.” Vander’s face finally broke from that stillness and a cheery smile pulled to his lips.

“Damn, sweetheart. You saved our asses that night. Wish I could have thanked you.” You shrugged.

“Just wanted to get back to sleep.” Vander gave a chuckle.

“Did you also explode that drink in Benzo’s hand when he wouldn’t lay off the shit?” You gave a mischievous little smirk.

“Guilty.” Vander shook his head, recognition catching on to another memory.

“You did the same thing to Felicia too, huh? When she--” You quickly shot the water in your command at Vander’s face, keeping him from going on about that night.

Only the second night Felicia had hung around your group. Another night she and Slico couldn’t seem to stop their endless flirting together. You didn’t think the sip or two left in her cup would ruin anyone’s night completely if it was shot all over her face.

“Alrighty. We’ve wasted enough time going on and on about memories.” Vander pulled a hand from one of his gauntlets to wipe the water you splashed in his face off. He gave you an all too cheeky look, telling you he knew exactly why you wanted to keep him quiet about it around Silco.

“Alright, alright. Lay it on me.” He chuckled.

You and Silco laid the plan out for him carefully before you three were starting for the river once more.

“And they were roommates.”

“Gods--they were roommates?” A pair of enforcers gossiped from where they stood by a street lamp, guns lowered as they gossiped about whatever Piltie drama they had going on.

Just as a beam of light from one of the spotlights up on the bridge moved past them, you collected another ball of water from your canteen and sent it hurtling towards some fish crates further away. The wood crashed to the ground, sending the enforcers rushing off to investigate.

You three were quick to rush for the waters, you sprinting ahead so you would be in the water to catch your friends when they jumped in themselves.

When your feet hit the edge of the wharf, you pushed your body out and downward in a nice, streamline dive. Air rushed around your skin before being replaced with cold water that flowed around you as you curved your body around and back upward.

Just as you broke the surface, you heard a shout. A shout that did not belong to either Silco or Vander and definitely belonged to an enforcer. One that had spotted the two men just as they were jumping off the edge.

One enforcer turned into two that turned into a whole horde rushing about on land, calling at you three. Commanding you to stop. To come back inland.

Vander was the first to hit the water, his large form and gauntlets making a huge splash that sprayed back up at the enforcers who’d just made it to the edge.

Silco hit the water, seafoam eyes catching yours and showing you the trust he held in you just before he vanished beneath the surface.

The sound of guns being cocked and warnings to come back before they would fire rang through your ears.

A spotlight found you and the sinking boys as guns rose a bit higher.

You summoned your magic to dance through your veins and over your fingertips. Felt the waters around you flow faster and faster as you smiled wickedly up at the enfocers watching you.

Water rose on your command, roaring around you as it grew and grew into a wave much larger than any river could have created on its own. Just as you sent it hurtling toward the now screaming and terrified enforcers, you dove into the depths of after your friends.

You found Vander had grabbed hold of Silco, both trying to swim back to the surface but failing horribly. Even though you had taught Vander to swim, he still wasn’t strong enough to carry a whole other person and support himself in the water.

You sent your magic to flow around them both, holding them in a gentle cradle before beginning to quickly pull them further down and across the river.

You shot through the water with ease after them, catching up to Silco first. He grabbed hold of your wrist as you created a small air bubble around his head. A bubble that funneled thinly upwards to provide fresh air for him to breathe the whole way.

Silco gave a deep inhale of air, eyes wide and scanning over your face as he pulled you closer. You allowed it, quickly dipping your face into his bubble to rest your forehead against his.

“Okay?” You asked as Silco nodded against your skin.

“Yes.” You titled your face so that you could place a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

You pulled away from him then, gliding the sort distance to Vander who was looking a little more panicked than Silco had been. You made quick work of creating his air bubble, Vander giving a sharp curse as he gulped down air. With a sheepish little sorry face and a pair of thumbs up, you swam away, body moving through the water like a human-shaped dolphin.

Your magic kept Silco and Vander close by as you swam them across the river. Fish drew to you like you were a magnate, which was a typical occurrence when you were within or sailing on a larger body of water like this. They came and tickled at your cheeks as they brushed against you in their way of a hug.

“Are you a mermaid?” Vander asked from just a little bit behind you. You found him watching you in stunned curiosity, while Silco was watching you in that warmly soft way he often did. A way that made your stomach flutter like a group of minnows had swum within its lining. You created a small air bubble for yourself so that you could respond.

“Ha. No. I wish. I’d get a kick-ass tail if I was.” You grazed your fingers over a gray-scaled fish, it moving closer as if it was some waterbond cat.

“Then--what are you?” He asked as a look filled his eyes. A looked those kids you had saved years ago had given you too. A look filled with awe. In wonder. In a yearning for something beyond comprehension.

It was a look that made you feel not human.

You instantly regretted showing him your magic. Instantly wished to dive deeper into the depth just to get away from that look.

“She’s human, Vander. A born mage.” Silco spoke, coming to your defense and taking that look from Vander’s eyes.

“Oh--yeah. Of course. Just curious.” You gave him a small smile in understanding. One that turned into that of utter gratefulness as you looked back to Silco. He smiled gently for you, fingers moving within the small current your magic was creating as if he might reach for you. You almost reached for him too, but you kept swimming onward.

The other side of the river came upon you in the passing of a few more minutes. You surfaced, leaving the boys below in case of an ambush.

It was quiet Topside. Not a single enforcer marching up and down the wharf. No spotlights or gates. The bridge seemed to have been unattended this side of the river. All you found was a sleepy stretch of cobblestone and buildings far nicer than anything the fissures had to offer.

It made you worry.

You had made a show of using your power against those enforcers. A mistake in using them so blatantly, but you knew if you hadn’t, those guns would have been fired and they would have hit you or worse--your friends.

The enforcers should have been on high alert over here in anticipation of your arrival…

Maybe they just believed you drowned in that wave. Maybe they thought it had been a natural occurrence and you’d been swept away in it. That the boys had sunk to the bottom of the river never to see the sky again.

You glanced over your shoulder back towards your stretch of home.

Spotlights still roamed the land and waters. You could just vaguely make out enforcers rushing about over there, still in a panic over you three slipping past.

Maybe they just haven’t had time to get over here yet and in that case, you all needed to move fast.

You pulled the boys to the surface, keeping them cradled in your waters until you had placed their feet on the ground Topside. Using your magic to push you onto land, you were quick to grab for Silco’s hand. He grabbed it back just as you were opening your mouth to tell them of your thoughts when light blinded you.

The sound of armor clanking and voices shouting filled your ears and you knew instantly you had led your friends into an ambush. You knew just how foolish you had been in thinking they wouldn’t have alerted their people over here.

“Put your weapons down and your hands in the air. Slowly.” Your eyes adjusted to the light to find you had been surrounded by enforcers, guns aimed straight at you all.

Silco’s hand was tight in yours. A tightness that became slightly tugging, like we was trying to slowly bring you behind him.

Vander’s gray eyes found yours. Then they found Silcos.

Hard eyes. Determined eyes. Eyes that seemed to be begging for a fight.

“I said--” A blur shot at the head enforcer. Metal slammed into his face so hard, you saw teeth and blood fly.

Vander had been that blur. Those gauntlets of his looking more wicked than any knife or gun the way he was attacking. Attacking any and all enforcers that he laid eyes on.

A gun booming to life and the heated air of a buttle narrowly missing your face spurred you into action. Silco let go of your hand just as you let go of his, the both of you grabbing for the knives strapped to your sides and hurling yourself into the fray.

Your body twisted and weaved and sliced through an enforcer.

Then another and another and--

A gun was slammed sideways into your face, pain screaming through your nose as it gave a sickening crunch. Pain that you snarled and bit back against before you were cutting down that enforcer.

Your fist slammed into another oncoming enforcer's jaw just as a body slammed into yours.

Skin broke upon impact with the cobblestone. A fist pounded into your temple, momentarily turning your vision blurry as you roared and reached blinding for the body on top of yours. You grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled with all your strength, causing the enforcer to shout.

Another wild fist hit you in the shoulder as you yanked her downwards, rolling so you could jam a knee into her stomach to keep her pinned down.

You had just raised your fist to attack when a gun was pressed against your throat, yanking you back and off of the enforcer, the tightness enough to sharply cut your air supply off.

You gagged and gasped, fingers fumbling to try and alleviate the pressure when your eyes caught sight of Vander.

An enforcers had jumped onto his back. Then another. And another and another until Vander was brought to his knees under the weight of them all. A new wave of enforcers appeared to point their guns at him, shouting commands and threats his way.

You found Silco a little ways away, sprawled on his back, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead as two enforcers pointed their guns directly at his heart.

Their fingers tightened on their triggers.

Their eyes--they were getting ready to fire.

Seafoam's eyes frantically glanced around the wharf. Eyes that found yours. Eyes that were--remorseful. Apologetic and full of the gentle softness he only ever showed you.

And you knew then he knew there was little to no chance of escape from the guns pointed at him.

You sucked in as much air as you could around the pressure against your throat and gave a ragged scream into the night air.

You felt the waters in the river roar in answer. Felt the waters between the cobblestone cracks answer. The water in the pipes and fountains answers. Felt them begin to swirl and rise and rage.

Your blood boiled.

Your vision blurred.

Your ears filled with ringing so loud it drowned out your friends and the enforcers before you.

Seaform eyes smiled.

Silence washed through your ears--through your being.

Ba-dum…ba-dum…ba-dum…

A heartbeat rang through your mind. A fastened one. One that was beating heavily against the activity it was doing.

It was a sound your magic cocked its head at in curiosity. A sound that faded out into soft roaring…like a flowing river.

Water.

It was water you were hearing. Water that called to you to take and command. Water you did just that too.

The enforcer behind you gave a pained sound. A sound that spurred you to push those strange waters harder. To make them rise and rise until the enforcer was dropping their gun to the ground.

You found them on the ground, clawing at their throat as they gasped for air. Found their eyes watering and pooling over. Waters that bubbled from their nose and ears and mouth. Waters that ran red.

And you pushed it higher until they slumped over, the light having left their eyes.

“What the fuck!” An enforcer nearby shouted. “Holy shit! By the gods! You--You’re a frea--” You grabbed hold of the strange waters flowing within his veins. Watched him panic at the relation that he was next. Watched him run and scream in pain and trip over his own feet.

You watched as those waters poured out of him in the same manner as his comrade.

You watched him drown on dry land.

And you should have found it sickening. The hollowness gnawing at your senses should have told you that. The warning bells that rang through your mind.

These were not your waters to command.

These waters belonged to those enforcers and those enforcers alone. Just as Nadia’s blood you had struggled to control had been hers.

It was something you were never supposed to have power over.

It wasn’t a part of you.

Not like how the waters in the river were a part of you. In the streams and pipes.

It wasn’t you.

That chilling hollowness pushed your body forward. Had your powers latching onto the two enforcers who had been a hairs width away from ending Silco’s life. You commanded these dark waters once more with little care about whether they were yours or not. Not when these people were trying to kill your family.

You raised your other hand towards the enforcers holding Vander down as the two began to drown before Silco’s eyes. You commanded their waters and watched them claw and cry and scramble before they joined their comrades.

Vander was quick to his feet, eyes wide as he gazed upon you.

Fear.

That hollowness hardly let you register it though. Not when your magic felt more enforcers rushing your way. Enforcers you stopped in their tracks with a daggered glare their way.

You felt--powerful.

More powerful than you’d ever felt.

It felt sinnful but gods it was near addicting. An addiction you wanted to cave into as you set your sights onto the bridge just a few feet away.

You felt as if you could go up there and end it all.

Felt as if you were strong enough to march through the streets of Piltover, find their foolish councilmen and just end their terrible reign.

That hallowness laughed in agreement with you. It egged you on. Told you to take that first step. Had your feet moving towards the bridge. Moving past Silco who was still sat, watching you slinetly.

He called your name quietly as the winds blew through the streets.

He called your name as the winds rushed around you.

He called your name and The Winds called it too.

“Stop.” The Winds commanded.

Your feet kept moving. Your veins boiled and pounded screaming out for more, more, more.

The Winds whipped around you like a tempest.

Your vision blurred and black dots danced in their corners.

When had it gotten so hard to breathe? You wondered and yet that dark energy kept pushing and pushing until those dots overtook you.

“You don’t know what you’ve meddled in, little one.”

Your eyes flew wide at the voice. One you hadn’t heard for years. One you thought abandoned you and everyone in the Lanes.

You stood and you felt your throat tightened.

You were no longer on the wharf.

You were no longer in reality.

Endless sky.

Endless night.

Stars twinkled and galaxies bloomed silently before, upbove, and below you.

And you--you weren’t you--

Your waters whirled over your skin. Was your skin--your body.

A strangled sound pulled from whatever strange mouth you possessed in the horror of it all.

You were--you must be dead. That was the only explanation for this all.

“You have not died.” That voice spoke again. You snapped around to find your guardian and--terror gripped your soul.

A begin made of gold and white and wind floated before you. One with wings sprouting from its arms and hips. One with bird's feet and clawed hands. One whose face was smooth gold with a halo of that same gold circling over its head to match.

“You’re--you’re an angel.” You croaked out in horror. The angel shook its featureless head, gliding closer to you.

“I am Janna. As you know…though--also as you don’t.” Her wings gave a ruffle as if saying you’d never seen her this way.

“Janna--no--I--where are we?” You were beginning to panic. To freak out.

“Do not be afraid.” She tried to soothe.

“Fuck--FUCK! Don’t be afraid? What the hell am I supposed to feel?” The being--Janna--gave another ruffle of her wings.

“Feelings have little to do with this. You have touched powers that do not belong to you.” You’re throat only continued to tighten. It was so tight you thought you might suffocate right then and there. “Those souls were not yours to take.”

“Souls--you mean those enforcers?” Janna didn’t move. You would have said she was just watching you if she had had any eyes to watch you with. “The ones that had been trying to kill me? Kill Silco and Vander? I was protecting the people I love.” Janna again was silent. Was again unmoving.

You gave a frustrated growl, whatever fists you had balling.

You’re fear--oh, it was turning into anger. An anger Janna and Janna alone could only ever bring out in you.

“You know what--screw this. Where the hell have you been? It’s been four years.” Your waters flared around in answer to your rising emotions.

“It’s been…four years?” Janna repeated slowly. “Truly?”

“Fuck!” You hissed. “You are meant to protect us! You. And you can’t even bother to know how long you’ve been gone!” You took a step closer to the floating spirit who looked more like a god in that moment. “Where have you been? Why have you been gone?”

“I’ve been guiding the heart and mind of an interesting young woman. One whose battle with the Gray aligns with my own. I’ve been overseeing her progress.” You scoffed. Scoffed and couldn’t help the pinch your heart gave.

Some young woman? Some random girl? Someone who wasn’t you? You were Janna’s ward.

“If you can’t get rid of the Gray, no one can.”

“She will keep it at bay within these…vents as she calls them.” You just watched her in utter--shock. In anger and rage and wrath. Oh you were pissed.

“Let me out.” Janna’s feathers ruffled. “Let me out of whatever fucked up purgatory you have me in right now,” Janna said your name like a warning.

“I brought you here because you went beyond your realm’s limits.”

“I don’t give a shit. Let me out!” Your waters began to swarm around you. Faster and faster they whirl.

Wind whipped after it. Wind that tried to grab hold of you and keep you in this horrid place.

“The Arcane is our master. We are not masters of it. You challenge it, it will destroy you.” Janna called around the roar of wind and water.

Stars began to move.

Galaxies.

Everything was swirling wildly around in the tornado the Winds and Waters created.

“You hurt another creature we are meant to preside over,” Janna continued, “and I will stop you.”

And there she was.

The Janna you had known your whole life. The strange, wispy elven being who had raised you. Whose glowing eyes seemed to--no…no you’re mind was play tricks on you but…they looked to be begging you to stop. To forget the dark power you had tipped your toes into.

It was emotion in her glowing eyes. Emotion she could not and had not ever shown you before.

“Do not make me go against you.” She all too calmly spoke.

Light cracked through the starry sky like the shattering of a mirror. Light that spread and spread till it began to engulf you and Janna whole.

“You will not win.”

It was dark. Dark and…smelled like a homemade meal.

The ground beneath you was carpeted. Soft.

There was something solid next to you. A body. A body that’d slung an arm around your waist to keep you down. You felt your body tense at the realization. That you didn’t know where you were or who was caging you in place.

You readied yourself for a fight. To get up quickly when a sleep-filled voice you knew in seconds spoke, “You’re awake.” Silco’s voice instantly had you relaxing into his hold. Relaxing and realizing just how much pain you were in.

The fight on the wharf. You’d been beaten. Bad and your body was definitely feeling it.

“Where are we?” You whispered back. Silco shuffled closer to you, nuzzling his face against your head.

“We found Nikolai and his friend was kind enough to let us lay low here for the night.” You made a small hum at his words but said nothing further. You couldn’t. Because past the pain roaming through your body, you felt--numb. Strange. Different.

“Are you in pain?” Silco asked.

“Yes.” You felt his body ready to get up, but you were quick to grab hold of his arm, keeping him down. “Just--it’s okay…can you just…hold me.” Silco hesitated at your request. “Please?” You breathed.

Silco gave a small sigh from his nose but settled back against you, his arm now holding you very so gingerly.

You two lay in the dark for a long moment. You listened to his even breaths in your ear. Enjoyed the warmth of it over your skin. Tried to let it take that strange…nothingness ringing in your chest away but…but it was stuck there. Stuck like it was held there with super glue.

Silco whispered your name in question against the shell of your ear. You nodded in answer.

“Are…are you okay?”

Janna’s words rang in your mind. Her promises of fighting you and of her sureness in winning.

You thought of that emotion that had broken over her ever-emotionless face.

She--she had been scared. Saddened and disappointed all in one.

And it rattled you more than you had expected. Left you wondering if you should listen. If that taste of power you had felt was worth making her look like that.

If that taste of power was worth this strange numb feeling in your chest. Worth feeling less than human.

But that power…gods had it felt good.

Too good.

“I…don’t know.” You answered honestly, finally moving to turn your face into his chest despite your body barking at you in pain. Silco held you tightly, fingers moving over your back in soothing circles. “Are…” You swallowed sharply against the tightness that seemed to have carried over from that strange world. “Are you scared of me?” The question was hardly even a whisper. A breathy thing. A scared thing.

You didn’t want him to fear you. Didn’t want him to look at you like those enforcers had. Like Vander had.

“No.” Silco quickly said. So quickly it had almost overpowered your own words. “I would never be scared of you.”

You laid still in his arms for a long moment. Let his firm, unwavering words settle over you. Let them help carry that numbness away…try to carry it away. “Seahorses… remember.” You nodded once more as he kissed the top of your head.

“Seahorses.”

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