#it figures that their stubbornness is one of the few traits they share and it’s the cause of their fractured relationship

[sparklingcid3r]

Having thoughts about how, no matter how loud Pony and Darry get during their arguments, how much vitriol and hate is fueled into their insults and yelling, it doesn’t change the fact that Darry physically cannot go to sleep whenever Pony is out late and he doesn’t know where, too terrified of the thought that his brother is bleeding out in the dirt and he can’t do anything to help him.

And it doesn’t change the fact that Pony’s worst nightmares, the ones that leave him crying so hard he’s choking on gasps and Soda can only barely calm him down from, are the ones that put Darry in the car with their parents.

[lunarxcity]

Why Choose? (Part IX to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Eris, Azriel, and Jealousy. Do I need to say more?)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, and VIII if you missed them!

-

You wake up cold, like a blanket has been ripped off of you in your sleep. You see a blanket is laid over your shoulders and then the previous night comes rushing back to you.

You blew up at Azriel for his lack of remorse over the years for the way he's treated you, how he's made you feel second to those in his life. You held it together and didn't accidentally reveal to him everything that he was to you both in title and feeling.

You were still upset with Azriel, a single conversation isn't going to patch up hundreds of years of heartache, but this was progress. He apologised to you and from the tears that had left his eyes, you knew that he meant it.

Your cheeks begin to heat up when you remembered how your night had ended and the phantom feeling of a scarred had pressed against your cheek. You looked to your left and saw that your desk chair had been moved right beside your bed, so he had stayed for a while and had left.

There's a part of you that wished he had stayed. The part that is fighting against you to tell him everything and to tug on the bond and convince him to be yours, but you know that you deserve much better than trying to convince someone to want you. At your most desperate you might have entertained the idea, but not now, not after everything.

The hurt from watching him pine after another woman so clearly in front of you was something you couldn't get out of your system. The image burned into your mind, and the feelings burned into your heart. Twice had this happened with members of your family and not once had you been the one to be the subject of his obsession.

He apologised. He said everything was over with Elain and he's been over Mor for years. The longer you dwell on it, the further you let yourself stray into that dark place the farther you will be from Azriel.

You decided to put the thoughts of inadequacy away. You were so accomplished in your own right and what Azriel thinks or doesn't think doesn't affect that. So you decided to do what you do best and get back to work. You got up and started getting ready for your day filled with productivity and emptied from thoughts of the shadowsinger.

-

You had to fight your way out of the house of wind, your brother insisted that you needed at least a week to rest and recuperate before launching yourself right back into work. Your stubbornness is a trait that you and Rhys had always shared which drove your poor mother mad in your early years.

He tried to grab you, likely to throw you onto his shoulder and march you to Cauldron knows where telling you to go do something relaxing, but you evaded his grasp winnowing directly to the hall of healing.

The next thing you knew you were on the ground a potted tree beneath you and dirt all over the floor. Madja looked at you from her desk with all the patience she could muster.

Madja had been the royal healer as long as you could remember and probably long before that. She was almost family to you and Rhys and the closest thing to a maternal figure that you had left.

She was stern, but kind and the one thing she hated most of all was untidiness. This likely explained the scolding look she had on her face as you did just knock down one of her plants.

She lets out a sigh, but the warmth in her eyes betrays her. "I'm glad to see you're back, but you do know you're supposed to take a few days for yourself before jumping straight into work?"

You are suddenly a child again who broke your mother's vase trying to guiltily hide all the broken pieces that your life had know become. Madja knew you almost better than anyone, would she know about the whole ordeal of the mating bond and Azriel.

You give her an exaggerated smile, obviously trying to get back on her good side. "Well, I couldn't wait to see you."

You hold your arms out for a hug and she smiles back and brings you in to a tender embrace and for a moment everything is okay. She's stroking your hair and you feel like a kid again in the warmth of your mother's arms.

"Well I've missed you too." She leads you to her desk to begin your work since logistics always came first which meant that today would be a paperwork day.

Her back is turned and you follow her. She clears her throat and states, "It's always good to see you, even if you are using me as a distraction and an excuse from dealing with your mating bond with the shadowsinger."

Your face blanks and she gives you a sly smile. Shame on you for thinking you could get anything past her, this woman could have all of Velaris in her hand if she chose to.

"You knew?" You ask her, wondering what exactly had given it away.

She just smiles fondly, "My child I had always known. Me and your mother had placed bets on how long it would take for you two to finally come together."

At that you had a million questions you wanted to ask her, each one dancing on the tip of her tongue but she interrupts you before you could get a word in.

"I thought you came here for a distraction? This seems like quite the opposite from that." She gives you a knowing look and you nod in response.

"Yes so about the paperwork-"

-

FIrst day was exhausting. No real research was done, it was a purely paperwork day. Locating certain texts, registering you as Madja's apprentice, and ordering all that you would need to begin your work.

It seems like lounging around in Autumn had accustomed you to laziness because you were tired down to the bone. So tired you had barely been able to winnow, but you somehow winnowed yourself directly into your bed as it had been all you were able to think about.

You could lie down for 10-15 minutes and then you could go downstairs and scour the kitchen for food. You had stayed a lot later than intended, not realising that it was almost midnight and you were famished.

You forced your eyes open and they noticed an extra addition on your desk that had not been there when you left. You throw yourself onto your feet and trudge over. You see that you had been brought a plate of tonights dinner.

Meat and potatoes with greens and some sort of fragrant juice. You could almost cry at the sight. Your stomach roared and you sat down to eat.

It was still warm and you didn't want to think too much about who brought it here. You knew it wasn't the house because of the elaborate plating. The food sat on a silver tray dressed with a lace cloth, the napkins folded to perfection, and a silver goblet as accompaniment.

A singular white rose sat on the tray with a blue ribbon tied on it's stem; The color of renewal, forgiveness, and new beginnings. You knew this had to be Azriel's doing and the shadow that you saw scurrying off in the corner of your eye confirmed it.

You were frankly too tired and too hungry to do anything about it. If Azriel was trying to get in to your good graces through kind gestures it would take a lot more than that to smooth out everything between you two. For now you didn't dwell on it too much there was an eternity to be upset with him, you thanked him in your head and ate your dinner.

Much too tired to be bothered with anything else. You had changed into your nightclothes and threw yourself on the bed letting exhaustion take you over for the night.

-

Sleep finds you and she is restless as if trying to prove to you that Azriel's presence is a comforting blanket that gently guides you to her.

You are awakened by a loud crash from your balcony. Fear floods your system at the possibilities of who the intruder could be. How did they bypass the wards? Are they coming for you?

You shoot up as your balcony doors open to reveal the heir of Autumn in dark green pajamas, a brown robe, and slippers. If only your court could see him now, their fearsome enemy in fuzzy slippers with little puff balls for ears to make them resemble a bear.

Eris' room is right above yours and you thought that would stop him from dragging you into any late night antics. Apparently you were wrong as it is the perfect place to be to drop down onto your balcony in the middle of the night.

You know you look sleep haggered and you're too cranky to care. "What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the heir of Autumn in his teddy bear slippers."

Eris retorts back with a scoff. "The bear is a formidable, fearsome, and very respected animal. Many consider me to bear the same qualities you know.'

His grin is filled with mischief and you are too tired to deal with him right now. "Do they same about the teddy bear because that's what your slippers are closer to resembling."

He looks offended and you launch a pillow at his face before he has a chance to retort.

"And to think I came here to bring you a gift." Your eyes immediately light up, curious as to what Eris could have possibly brought you.

He sighs, "I wanted to make sure you had a piece of Autumn here in the Night Court." He pulls out the fox you and Lucien had chased down on Solstice, the night that had started this all. Your first night in Autumn.

The fox nearly bites him and you laugh, "I can see why you wanted to give her back to me."

"Well, she might miss her siblings, so you will have to come back to Autumn in case she gets lonely.

He cracks a soft smile, so uncharacteristic to his malicious grins you've become accustomed to.

"Who knows after Beron is overthrown my court will have an open position for a Night Court princess and her moody fox should she ever want it. I'm talking about the fox of course."

You smile, "Oh yes I will definitely keep that in mind if she becomes too bored in Night. I am also talking about the fox of course."

Your touching moment was ruined by a soft knock on the door.

Eris looks at you with a shit-eating grin and he saunters to the door, "Well this was lovely princess, but I'm afraid your brooding mate is kicking me out. He's probably not too happy at my presence."

He is enjoying this way too much for your liking. That bastard.

He opens the door, and just like he says, the shadowsinger is standing there. Dark hair touseled as if he was harshly yanked from sleep and eyes rapidly scanning the room for any threats.

He meets Eris' gaze and you see shock and then pure disdain fills his eyes. He gives Eris a look so vile, you would have thought that he was going to put Eris to death for committing some heinous crime.

"Eris." His words at short and as sharp as the blade at his hip.

"I assume you were the intrusion that I heard." No smile. No even semblance of kindness or cordiality. Just pure anger? Disgust?

He looks at Azriel and then you and then back at Azriel. Still holding his smirk he goes, "I was just taking my leave."

He saunters out of the room hands in mock surrender. Thankfully deciding to take the door this time.

He closes the door behind him leaving you and Azriel alone since your emotional discussion? Arguement? You didn't even know what it was.

That teary emotional Azriel was very different from the Azriel currently in front of you. His face was set in the mask of the shadowsinger, the cold indifference that he shows the rest of the world.

You knew he wasn't Eris' biggest fan, but the shadowsinger was acting as if Eris had personally wronged him. Fully brooding it was almost comical that he would let Eris' presence affect him this much.

He clears his throat and blinks. The malice clears from his eyes and he's back to being your Azriel. Quiet and stoic at times yes, but not cruel never towards you.

He rakes you over with his eyes and exhales a sigh of relief. "Are you alright? I thought I heard you scream."

You don't remembering eliciting a sound at Eris' unexpected presence, but the fear may have clouded your memory.

You give him a reassuring nod. "Yes I am. Eris just just the worst time possible to give me my gift, you can go back to sleep now."

At the mention of a gift he begins to look over the room, trying to find the new addition. When suddenly your fox jumps on his back from the dresser.

The fox was accustomed to pouncing on your shadow and well Azriel was flanked by a whole lot of them. They were tightly worn up too, probably reflecting the state of their master. This made them that much more enticing to your fox who was now perched on Azriel's shoulder, swatting at the shadow's.

The shadowsinger was surprisingly unphased, he looked at the fox, shrugged, and just let the fox do this thing. Maybe it's true what they say about how the key to attracting animals is to not pay them any attention. If you could only tell that to your younger self who had chased wild bunnies to no avail.

The sight of sleepy Azriel, messy hair and forgotten shirt, holding your pet fox had stirred something in you. You try to convince yourself that it's the tiredness getting to you, but the most handsome male you have ever seen is shirtless in front of you playing with your pet fox it's basic math that you would be looking and looking you were.

The shadowsinger, all keen senses didn't even need to spare you a glance to know what you were doing. "You're staring." He informs you unceremoniously.

You cheeks heat up and you try to maintain your composure as much as someone who has just been caught unabashedly staring can.

"I had to make sure you didn't drop her. Call it a precaution...for her safety..." You cringe at your obvious attempt to cover up your actions.

"I didn't tell you to stop." His eyes shine with playfulness, it's a challenge he's never extended to you. What is going on?

The disbelief must have been written clean across your features because he gives you a small chuckle.

He goes on like he didn't say anything previously at all. "Now we wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her. Well anything else considering she already had to deal with Eris."

You were about to interrupt him telling him to be nice to Eris, he's a guest of this court, but he gently takes the fox off his shoulder and puts her in your arms.

Your hands brush, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot up your spine. You feel the bond beginning you to seen, beginning to be acknowledged, beginning to be felt. Azriel has always been hot and cold, but he had never been this hot? Banter with Azriel was always teasing, but never flirty. Were you reading it wrong? Mother above what is happening? Azriel was killing you.

If that wasn't enough the final nail in the coffin is when he bends down and starts to talk to the fox he just put into your arms.

"There we go. You're in very good hands now. I do have to say I'm jealous." He pets the foxes head and it borderline purrs.

Is this a dream? You must be dreaming right now, everything from the moment you woke up has been surreal.

"This isn't a dream. Does the fact that you think it is mean you dream of me often?" He is slightly smirking.

You look at him, just pure confusion on your face. "Azriel are you okay? Are you possessed by the ghost of Cassian or something?"

This almost snaps him out of whatever trance he must have been in. "It must be the exhaustion loosening my tongue."

You both laugh at this. Half delirious in your sleep-deprived state.

He gives you a bow, now much too formal. "Azriel what is this are you a courtier now? This is all so uncharacteristic of you, you must truly be exhausted."

At this he just gives up. He sighs and walks towards you and surprises you by picking you up bridal style and throwing you on your bed.

"Goodnight princess. Try not to dream of me too much." He says as he takes his leave from your room.

"You-" He closes the door before you can get a retort in.

"Bastard." You now say into the darkness of night. It's fine his shadows can deliver the message for you.

Your fox jumps up on the bed and curls up next to your face. For the second time tonight you let sleep take you and this time she takes you gently and swiftly.

-

Somewhere in a realm that is neither here nor there the Mother is looking at Fate as if she were about to kill him. "How did you manage to get that piece back on the chessboard? That's not even a legal chess move."

Fate responds with a coy smile, "It's not just chess darling. It's life. Besides, I see myself in the young Autumn princeling "

She responds to him with a warm smile, which contradicts the chess piece she launches at his head.

He ducks it as if though he was already anticipating that outcome. Fate knows the mother all too well.

"Good we didn't need the Tamlin piece anyways." He stills for a moment, like he's remembering the high lord of spring, and then visibly cringes.

The Mother didn't laugh. She has been playing this game for much too long now and longs to see you and Azriel happy.

She has her own plans in store for the heir of Autumn. Plans that didn't involve you, but now his piece is back on the board it seems.

"We only get the most desperate when we feel as if that which we love is going to be taken from us." Fate grabs her hand over the table, a gesture meant to calm the fire that is burning in her eyes.

"You made them mates my love and I would never interfere with your divine plan. I am just as invested in their success as you are, I just think it's time for Azriel to have some competition."

At this the Mother smiles, "Interfering for the better? Meddling for the betterment of people's lives? Who are you and what did you do to the man I fell in love with?"

At this Fate smiles. He knows the mother was going to win this game one way or another, but he also knows that the more competitive he makes it, the happier she will be when she finally crushes him. Godspeed Azriel.

part x

-

note: Here is the jealousy you all wanted our shadowsinger has very interesting way of coping with this feeling. Is he trying to be more like Eris because he thinks that what the reader wants? Is he processing his emotions healthily? Or is he just uninhibited? Who knows? (except for me hahahaha). I am sorry if we have hit a bit of a lull in the story I can either continue putting out more shorter chapters every few days or do one long chapter a week feel free to lmk what you guys prefer. Until next time my darlings!

note note: This is so unedited I can almost sense the typos...

my lovely taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl @ivy-34 @firefly-forest @k-homosapien @coeurdeveea @cherryjain17 @bckynatt @becstersworld @rcarbo1 @gojospearlycim @atluky @juliebluehufflepuff @willowpains @abadfantasybook @neverendingstay @hellohauntedturnstudent @highladyofhogwarts @littowl @iluvyewman-blog @lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff @noonenuts @sourapplex @aquellaspequenascosas @anuttellaa @honethatty12 @moonlwghts @kittymeyers @beabogsims @sillyfreakfanparty @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria

[sorryimananti-romantic]

The Leaders | Chapter VII

"maybe a place where light and darkness meet, the choice between truth and lies is mine."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of war/military, drugs, gangs and corruption, reader is anxious throughout most of the chapter, hongjoong redeems himself, san shoots his shot so that makes reader a serial kisser, and impending doom ig

chapter wc: 11.6k

chapter synopsis: after a last gathering in edenary where you meet a few key people of eden, you come back to sector 1 and have a meeting with the crescents. you and hongjoong make up and you finally learn about the nature of the crescents’ relationship from san. hongjoong delays the deal with madame tiffany but you still do not hear back from your sources in wonderland until the two parties officially sign the deal and it starts to feel like it’s too late to turn back.

prev chapter recap: the crescents meet up at the bar and share recent updates about assemblyman wi and how the anonymous funders have been identified save for one. yeosang reveals that the rv spies are protecting you from a threat which is not secretary park, and that has you rethinking everything from your past. your anxiety weighs on you and yunho attempts to comfort you. he hints about the nature of the crescents’ relationship. seonghwa and hongjoong finally let you in on the drug project for silver light and ask you to look into their possible partner for the deal, madame tiffany– a well-known tech company owner from wonderland. you finally step back into edenary after years and before the meeting with madame tiffany at a business gathering hosted by eden news owners, hongjoong gifts you a pearl necklace to match with your ring while asserting your role as his partner and his weapon. you meet secretary park and get a feeling that you’re being baited into making this new deal. You confront and warn him. the night ends in a conflict with hongjoong, though seonghwa is there to kiss away your tears.

There was something you wished you did not have in common with Hongjoong– the trait of stubbornness. 

None of you was going to take the first step to acknowledge that perhaps, you both were at fault and the discussion that night in Edenary could have been handled in a better way without leaving things on a bitter note. 

Hongjoong had managed to buy some time before Madame Tiffany would sign the deal, like you wanted. He invited her to Sector 1 and offered to show her around his business as a fellow tech-enthusiast. Still, things remained somewhat tense between the two of you. With Seonghwa’s presence as a buffer, it was somewhat bearable but it was getting harder to not address the elephant in the room when you were alone with him.

However, the two of you were also good at acting like everything was fine. No one would feel the tension surrounding the two of you unless they cared to take a closer look.

It was the third and the last day of your stay at Edenary, an unusually clear July afternoon at yet another business gathering hosted at the Ju Residence in the honour of Eden Newspaper’s 50th anniversary. It was an important event with a lot of politicians and business figures from all over Eden and the neighbouring countries attending so the three of you had planned to split and conquer. 

You had prepared for this event in advance in a true Edenary citizen fashion. The previous day had no schedule so you decided to visit a few hotspots in Edenary. You offered Seonghwa to join but he already had another commitment with Hongjoong. Seonghwa requested Jaehyun and Ten to escort you– they were old employees and friends who could be trusted and as residents of Edenary, they were probably updated on where you should make your stops.

When you told Jaehyun and Ten that you would be making trips to the bars and clubs in Eden, they immediately knew what was up. Sporting little smirks and dressing their best, they joined you and you had to admit the three of you were quite a sight together– Hongjoong seemed to think so since he commented on your odd choice of outfit.

The odd thing being the burgundy colour of your lace blouse paired with cream slacks. Your feet were clad in heels and you were wearing your pearls, adding a sunhat and shades to the look. That was definitely something new for Hongjoong who had only seen you in formal office attire– or in the dress that he bought for you. He half wished he could ditch his appointment to observe you from the sidelines– he was quite curious about how you would look as an Edenary citizen.

He didn’t have to wait long to see that. Just like yesterday, you blended in seamlessly with the crowd today. You were wearing a mulberry coloured sheath dress, switching the pearls with silver accessories to match the bracelet that Hongjoong had given you. You weren’t oblivious of the way his eyes stuck to the cuff around your wrist when you sat next to him in the car. When you reached the venue and split up, he kept an eye on you while you got acquainted with the crowd. You seemed to be getting along just fine so he relaxed and let you handle it, deciding to trust in you just a bit more. 

You would later reveal that this was what you had practised for– in the bars and clubs where information was sold over drinks, you got updates on the latest gossip of Edenary. It was the oldest trick in the book, yet it always worked. All you had to do was look good and provide something worthy in exchange, and you had a lot to share– just nothing about the Crescents but about General Wi and Secretary Park. Harmless little rumours. 

You knew not to believe anything that came out of drunken mouths but from your experience, most of the time they were right. The other times, half-right. 

That was how you made a mental list of a few people that you had to get acquainted with at this party. Most of them were business owners but there were quite a lot of politicians and people that had connections in the underworld. You had a short chat with Lee Sunmi, the heiress to Maddox and Co. – the jewellery brand that was Eden’s staple. She recognised the silver bracelet on your wrist and told you how Hongjoong had spent a lot of time choosing and designing the bracelet.

“Hold up,” you interrupted. “You’re telling me he designed it?”

“We take custom orders, and our customers sometimes suggest designs and we try our best to incorporate it into ours and deliver what they desire,” Sunmi smiled. “And Kim Hongjoong is quite a thoughtful man. He has always been creative.”

It looked like Hongjoong and Sunmi were on friendly terms– they probably had to be, considering the amount of purchases he had been making recently. You almost wished you had worn the pearl necklace too so you could hear the story behind it, but for now…

This was enough. 

A few moments later, you went to hang out in a corner with a drink, clouded by the contents of your conversation with Sunmi while you watched the guests and made note of who was interacting with whom. You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to find a man who was about Hongjoong’s height. He looked familiar for some reason.

“I see you’ve got eyes on Assemblyman Kim Jooheon,” the man said, pointing at the politician with his gaze. 

“I see that you do too,” you replied, making space for him in the corner. You could see almost everyone from here since it was an elevated platform but hardly anyone looked back towards you. 

“Drink?” You offered and when he nodded, you grabbed a glass from your right where the table was. 

“You look familiar,” he commented. “Where are you from?”

“Sector 1,” you told him. “Are you from there too?”

“Yeah,” he put his hands in the pocket of his plain black suit, habitually sniffing. “I saw you talking to Park Seonghwa. Are you… acquainted with him?”

You narrowed your eyes just a fraction. “Can I have your name, please?”

He smiled in defeat. “Bang Chan.”

You almost dropped the drink in your hand, resorting to a gulp. This was the man who had unintentionally triggered the wheels into motion that led you to where you were today– Chan, the leader of Wolfgang. Had he not ordered his men to raid the Crescent Bar, you wouldn’t have signed the deal with Seonghwa and become a Crescent. 

You wanted to thank him for a multitude of reasons, and the small part of you that still yearned for the normalcy you had before getting swept up in all these politics wanted to kill him for ruining your peace.

“Mr. Bang,” you nodded, extending your hand. “I’m Luna.”

“Is there more to it?” He shook your hand, his eyes filled with curiosity.

“Perhaps,” you replied nonchalantly. “What do you know about Assemblyman Kim?”

“Well, if you’re looking to make connections with him, he might consider if you’re influential around Sector 1, though I must say I haven’t really heard of you…”

“You will, soon,” you promised and he shook his head in amusement. “Do you think he would associate with… people who have influence in the underworld?”

Chan raised a brow. “You must recognise me, huh?”

“Yeah, but that might not be the reason I’m asking that question,” you said, taking a gulp. You smirked. “I must say I didn’t expect the leader of Wolfgang here.”

“Well, you know what they say about us mafiosi,” he smirked back, swirling the drink in his glass. “Refined gentlemen during the day, gangsters at night.”

Just like the Crescents. You had heard about the history of their gang once from Wendy– the members of Wolfgang had been among the first to get forcefully drafted in the military during war. President Son could not prevent the military takeover during the war and that was the reason that the people around your age, like the Crescents and the Wolfgang, had all been enlisted. What made Wolfgang unique was that they were already becoming an established gang before the war and after the war ended, they only grew stronger.

Chan quirked his brows. “Will you answer my question now?”

“Well… you could say we’re acquaintances, yes, Seonghwa and I,” you said and he raised a brow at the way you so casually addressed him. “Will you answer my question now?”

Chan laughed deeply, knowing you wouldn’t be giving him anything else about your connection with Seonghwa.

“Assemblyman Kim is a presidential candidate for the next elections, though his ratings aren’t very high,” he sighed. “But you already know that. What you should know is that he’s a smart man- smarter than people give him credit for. His moral compass is very clear and he values justice above everything else.”

“And that would be why he has such low ratings, because who cares about justice in this era?” You huffed. “Thank you for the tip, Mr. Bang. I must shoot my shot now– I hope we can cross paths on good terms in the future.”

“Likewise… Luna,” he bowed jokingly and you shot a grin in his direction before walking towards the assemblyman, his secretaries by his side busy speaking with other people who wanted to hold a conversation with the presidential candidate. You slid in front of him smoothly as soon as he shook hands with a person to bid them farewell.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kim,” you extended your hand and he scanned your figure, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I’m Luna of the Crescent Company. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was trying to pinpoint where exactly he had seen you– certainly not in Sector 1 or anywhere near the Crescents. You only smiled knowingly.

“Haven’t we met?” He couldn’t resist asking. “In Edenary, a few years ago?”

Oh, Chan was right– he really was smart. He had, in fact, met you very briefly once. You hadn’t exchanged any meaningful words other than a light shriek from you when he suddenly appeared in your way, and a question from him to ask if you were okay, or if you needed help, because you looked so out of place in your own home. 

That had been the last party that you attended in Edenary which was hosted in your father’s own mansion before you had to leave. You had been strictly instructed to stay in your own room but obedience had never been your strongest forte especially when forced.

And that might be why things turned out like they did.

“You have… exceptional memory, Assemblyman Kim,” you breathed, truly impressed. 

He seemed to be still in thought, trying to pinpoint where he had seen you. You decided to make things easier for him– perhaps this could be an opportunity. 

“At Secretary Park’s residence– the party was hosted to celebrate President Lee’s official debut in the political world.”

“Ah… that is a memorable night,” he nodded slowly, recalling the events of that night. You remembered that night as well as if it was yesterday– it had been truly electric to see so many powerful and influential people in one place and in your residence of all the locations. The mansion had been heavily guarded and only a few people were invited. Lee Jinwook and his wife Han Hyojoo had both been present. President Son’s term was about to conclude and he made a short appearance for the sake of his old friend, Han Hyojoo.  

Your father would have sent you somewhere for the duration of that party but he locked you and Sunghoon both in a room– you because he couldn’t have anyone know that you were related to him, and Sunghoon because he was too rebellious at that time. 

However, Sunghoon had always been one step ahead of his father as long as it concerned sneaking past him. When he waved the key in front of you, you almost smiled. And he let you out that night simply out of spite for his father, though you knew better than to stray too far.

And Assemblyman Kim hadn’t been the only person you had a memorable encounter with. Han Hyojoo, who would later become the President of Eden, was one of them too. A memory you would never forget.

“Sometimes when I recall that night,” Assemblyman Kim began, “I remember how frightened you looked to see me and then I start wondering what I had done to scare a child.”

“It wasn’t you,” you suppressed a chuckle. “I just… wasn’t supposed to be roaming around and then you caught me sneaking outside.”

Mr. Kim laughed heartily. “I’m relieved to hear that. So you’re a Crescent, huh?”

“It’s a recent happening,” you confirmed. “I hope you’ve been doing well, Sir. If you ever need a helping hand or a… tip, you can look for the sneaky child that gets scared easily. You’ll find her in Sector 1.”

Assemblyman Kim considered that offer. “Noted. Although if you’ve done your research, you would know that I don’t associate with… underworld organisations.”

“Perhaps, your information is outdated– or rather, one-sided,” you commented, noticing how his secretaries were listening in to your conversation now. “But tell you what, Assemblyman Kim… you don’t need to step in the underworld to rule the world, you know what I mean?”

He poked his tongue inside his cheek, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind, Miss.”

“That’s a positive sign, right?” You look towards his female secretary, Secretary Shin, whose lips curled in an assuring smile. You parted with them, deciding to take a break before resuming your scavenging. 

You ascended up the stairs of the Ju Residence, your hand sliding up the marble railing with ease. There were people everywhere, drinks or tarts in their hands as they chattered endlessly. Craving some peace, you found the balcony empty and went to stand in the corner, hopefully out of sight of the people inside. You ran your gaze across the expanse of the residence– the garden that surrounded the mansion was also full of guests lounging near the buffet table. You recognised a few of them and spotted Hongjoong conversing with a group of older men.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, a dull throbbing in your head preventing you from organising your thoughts any further. You almost didn’t feel the presence of Seonghwa until he was beside you, his hand sliding over yours and you would have been startled if it weren’t for his very familiar sigh sounding in the air. 

“Tired?” He asked and you opened your eyes to look at the underboss. He was dressed to perfection in a black suit with a red sash emerging from under the left lapel that attached to his right shoulder and fell back in a flowy manner– true to Edenary fashion. His hair was getting longer, which meant that it was getting harder for you to resist stealing glances at him. 

“A bit, yeah,” you shrugged. “No matter how much I get used to this… environment, it will always feel a bit suffocating to be here.”

“I can understand why,” he agreed. “Parties used to be somewhere that you could let loose. Now you have to be cautious of every move you make, every word you say.”

“You’re a natural at this, though,” you teased. “You grab everyone’s attention when you’re in the room.”

“Everyone but yours, it seems,” he retorted. “I was watching you talk to Assemblyman Kim. You didn’t even notice me when you were done. Tsk tsk,” he shook his head and you curled your lips downwards, making him grin.

“I’ll tell you all about the meeting with him when we get home– but first, I did not know Kim Hongjoong was a romantic,” you whispered dramatically and he raised a brow in question. “I met Lee Sunmi and she had something interesting to say about this piece. He designed this himself.”

You waved the bracelet in front of him and he chuckled, showing off his ring. “Did you not notice all of us wearing the same ring, sweetheart?”

“Oh?” You held his hand to inspect the ring- it was shaped like your bracelet with infinity symbol design carved all around. “All of you?”

“All eight of us, yeah. Also designed by the one and only Hongjoong,” he smiled proudly. “And you match.”

You pursed your lips, taking a closer look at your bracelet– it really was a matching set. “A part of the Crescents, huh?”

Seonghwa nodded, his eyes darting towards the window. “Mr. Ju is here. I’ve got to greet him.”

“Alright, I’ll go get something to eat before I resume this serious business,” you mocked and he snickered before the two of you parted ways. 

You didn’t get a chance to brief the boys until you were back to Sector 1 and you figured that it was for the better since it saved you all the repetition. The rest of the Crescents came to town to hear about your visit to Edenary but this time, you were all cramped inside Hongjoong’s office. Or maybe it felt cramped due to the lack of drinks and the subtle tension in the air.

You took yet another deep breath as you heard Seonghwa’s side of the story, your eyes darting among the boys. Now that Seonghwa had hinted that they were all a single unit and might be closer than you thought, you couldn’t help but read too much into the otherwise casual actions– Mingi holding Yunho’s hand and Yunho absently caressing it while he watched Yeosang with a unique fondness, Wooyoung trying his utmost best to land a kiss anywhere on Yeosang who was strongly resisting with a subtle smile on his face that indicated that he didn’t dislike his attempts, and San massaging Jongho’s shoulders while he listened intently to what Seonghwa was saying.

Hongjoong watched all of them with almost parental affection, sending warning glares to anyone who dared interrupt the underboss and sharing smiles with anyone who looked his way.

So the question remained, looming over you until the weight of it felt almost tangible–

Who was with who, and just how many of them wanted you to be a part of whatever relationship they had?

“You alright?” Mingi asked. Having sat next to you, he noticed how you had stopped listening a while ago.

You nodded, smiling briefly in assurance before focusing your attention on Seonghwa who was now finishing up. Hongjoong filled in the parts that Seonghwa had not covered, especially about the previous day at the party at Ju Residence. 

“I think the only memorable part of my night was finding President Son’s wife at the event,” he said and a chorus of appreciation sounded across the room. You looked at Hongjoong who was smiling knowingly at you– he had withheld this information for this dramatic reveal. 

“Kim Jiwon,” he continued. “I think she attended knowing President Lee wouldn’t make it. You don’t often see ex-President Son’s family and anyone connected to President Lee in the same room.”

“Secretary Park was there, though,” you recalled. You purposely ignored and avoided him that day. “But I don’t think they crossed paths.”

“They probably didn’t. She was there for a very short time,” he agreed. “Anyways, she asked how business was. I told her that it was fine, and then she asked how business was.”

“Hold up–” you straightened. “You’re acquainted with President Son?”

Hongjoong crossed his legs, smirking. “The war may have ruined us all but me, personally? I made a lot of connections.”

You whistled, impressed and Wooyoung, who was sitting not far from you, waved his hand in dismissal. “He knows everyone, Luna. Get used to it.”

“Noted,” you sagged back into the couch but kept your eyes trained on Hongjoong. “How do you know him?”

“That’s a story I’ll tell you some other time,” he promised. “But anyways, my point is that this is the first time President Son has hinted that he knows something. I thought it might be a slip of tongue from his wife but then I remembered that they’re the kind of people who make mistakes on purpose.”

“She could be referring to the illegal trade, the weapons, or… anything, at this point,” Yeosang thought. “But the fact that they’re aware and have not done anything must mean that they don’t entirely disapprove, right? President Son still has enough influence to make our establishment collapse if he wants to.”

“Right, which is why I’m thinking that I really need to look into what he has been up to recently,” Hongjoong concluded. “Luna.”

“Yeah, so,” you began, inhaling deeply. “I think the two of you covered most of it. I had a not-so-cool meeting with Secretary Park,” you said, your eyes darting towards Seonghwa who had a subtle smile on his face. “He’s an arse, as usual.”

“Louder!” Wooyoung clapped in appreciation, eyes full of pride which prompted a laugh from you, making you feel instantly lighter.

“He thinks we should sign the deal with Madame Tiffany, which translates to ‘it will ruin us’, but maybe that’s just me,” you looked pointedly at Hongjoong who was suddenly too busy admiring his nails. “And then yesterday, I met Lee Sunmi of Maddox Jewellers and she had some interesting things to say about our boss, but that’s a story for later.”

That finally made Hongjoong look at you and you were surprised to see the glimpse of a cautious hope in his eyes. You continued. “I also had an interesting conversation with Assemblyman Kim. He remembers seeing me in Secretary Park’s mansion in 1963.”

“That’s seven years ago,” Jongho looked surprised. “How does he remember?”

“Well, your boss recalled seeing me from way before,” you pointed out and Hongjoong huffed. 

“Seeing a young girl in Secretary Park’s mansion. Didn’t realise it was you,” he corrected.

“And Assemblyman Kim remembered me because, well, I gave him quite the reaction when I saw him last time,” you told the boys about your first meeting with him. “I made sure he knew that the Crescents are one call away if he ever needs help.”

“But he doesn’t associate with ‘gangs’,” Jongho pointed out.

“I told him he doesn’t need to ‘associate’ with us in order to gain something from us. And let’s admit it– my addition to the Crescents makes your business image far cleaner than it actually is.”

Laughter filled the room as the boys clapped in acknowledgement, making you sit just a little taller, your heart feeling full with something like pride. 

“Anyways, I’ve heard more rumours about the recent happenings in Eden which may or may not be true,” you continued. “But the most interesting one has to be about how the Sirens Rebel Party is planning some unusual way of protesting when the campaigns start– and this time, their target is not only General Wi but also… President Lee.”

“President Lee?” Yunho frowned. “When he’s been pretty much unproblematic this whole time? I don’t think he’s being controlled by the army like the Sirens fear. If he was, the first step he would have taken is to send the Strictland immigrants in Eden back to their homeland.”

“That’s what you think,” Wooyoung scoffed. “I’ve been saying it this whole time– he’s far too clean to be unproblematic. Besides, he wouldn’t make a move like this and oust himself.”

“This means it’s time we do a little digging, no?” You looked at Hongjoong who was nodding in thought. “We should look into why the Sirens suddenly think President Lee has joined hands with the army. The Sirens are mostly Strictland immigrants– they must be anxious about something… And who would know President Lee better than President Son? Isn’t it so odd that he refuses to acknowledge him when he was so close to President Lee’s wife?”

“I just thought it might be a personal issue. There were always rumours about how President Han and President Son may have been a thing at some point in their lives,” Hongjoong said and you were about to protest when he spoke your mind. “I think that’s rubbish and it’s probably another deep-rooted grudge– President Son has never been a fan of President Lee.”

“Well, I hope there’s some way to find more about the reason their relationship is so strained,” you said, taking a deep breath before saying, “and that’s about it, yeah. Trip to Edenary concluded.”

A chorus of hums sounded across the room and someone shuffled to get the drink from Hongjoong’s table that they wanted to open for a successful trip. You, however, caught Yunho’s gaze.

“You did great,” he leaned forward to say with a warm smile, Mingi pressing himself back on the couch so you two could talk. “Assemblyman Kim is actually not a bad idea at all. We might need him if President Lee really is guilty of something big.”

“Right?” You exhaled in relief. “You can never have too many allies.”

San interrupted the moment with a tap to your shoulder, sliding in the empty space next to you and handing you a glass, congratulating you on making your first trip to Edenary as a Crescent a success– he had heard about your worries and anxiety about the trip over one of your usual late night drink sessions before you left.

“Any moments worthy of another late night drink session?” He asked in a low voice, winking subtly and you stifled a smile.

“There’s actually a lot, but if you can’t tell, me and Hongjoong are a little tense. We had a little argument,” you told him and he went ahead to glare at his boss unfiltered, which made you grab him by the chin so he would face you.

“Choi San!” You scolded in a harsh whisper. “You can’t do that!” 

The action did not go unnoticed by the few who were watching you, but you were far too focused on the way San’s gaze softened as he looked at you. You dropped your hand, taking a big gulp of the drink as you attempted to appear normal and unaffected by the fluttering of your heart. You looked back at him and the two of you burst into giggles.

“You want me dead and gone, don’t you?” You poked his thigh. 

“How dare Hongjoong have an argument with my darling sweetheart!” He continued with his charade, fully pouting as he clutched your head to bring you into a mock of an embrace. You struggled to free yourself and the boys laughed in confusion. Once you managed to wring away from San, you fixed your hair before smacking his arm.

All the while Hongjoong watched you challengingly.

You stared right back, eyes determined. And when a little smirk appeared on his lips, you finally found yourself relaxing while also realising with a sinking heart that Hongjoong already had quite the hold on you.

Now that you had wrapped up the hard part about the business with the conclusion of the Edenary trip, things were settling back into the old, quiet routine. You were only waiting for Madame Tiffany’s arrival to Sector 1 and, if lucky, a tip from Madame Cha in Wonderland to arrive preferably before the deal happens. 

You had to admit that it was making you a little restless to not hear back from Madame Cha, and it had you wondering if she was purposely withholding information. Was she in cahoots with Madame Tiffany or worse, Secretary Park? The unease that you might have been betrayed by the one person you trusted prevented you from focusing completely on work and you often found yourself distracted and zoning out.

Anyone could tell that you were a bit jumpy these days.  It was not because of your shift in relationship with both Yunho and Seonghwa. Things with Seonghwa were surprisingly normal and comfortable even after the romantic moment in Edenary, even after the confessions. He was still the same old underboss who gave you orders and a pat on your shoulders for doing a good job. He would make sure you were taking your meals on time, as did your colleagues Eunha and Jihoon.

It was mostly the lack of response from Madame Cha that was eating you up, and… Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong was pretending to be normal– pretending, you were sure, because you were no stranger to the slight edge in his voice when he talked to you. It reminded you of the time when he had ‘respectfully’ asked you to stick to being a bookkeeper instead of meddling with their business and it made you reconsider if becoming a Crescent was a smart decision at all. You could have simply given away every information you possessed in exchange for your life, or used Kihyun as a shield. You could have resigned and gone to work at MX Pharmaceuticals– that way, you wouldn’t have had to interact with the Crescents very much.

But then… you would think about the boys. You would think about the recent development in the business and your relationship with the boys, ruminate about the good moments that you shared with them. The bond that you had created with them definitely outweighed anything else by a considerable margin. 

You were waiting for Hongjoong in his office while you finished up the daily report for him. You couldn’t help but get distracted by the bracelet on your wrist. Perhaps, you should not have worn it today. 

However, Hongjoong seemed to think differently. When he came to the office and seated himself across you, his gaze stuck on your wrist as you passed him the report. You hid your hands under the desk on purpose while you reviewed the reports as he went through them. It was all very smooth and casual, just like before, until–

“When are you going to share what Sunmi had to say about me?”

You couldn’t help the smirk this time. “When were you going to tell me that you’re not just the boss of a criminal organisation but a part-time designer as well?”

Hongjoong let out a wicked laugh. “Boss of a criminal organisation, okay, but a part-time designer? That’s something I’ve never heard about myself.”

“Well?” You waved your wrist in the air. “I’m hearing you designed this yourself, Captain.”

“Yeah, I did,” he leaned forward challengingly. “What about it?”

“Is this your trademark design,” you asked, letting your fingers brush the ring he wore on his right hand, “or… did you design it to match with your rings?”

Hongjoong only smiled in answer, letting you caress his hand for just a moment before he grabbed yours and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and sending butterflies in your stomach. 

“I need answers, Hongjoong,” you almost whispered. “Not distractions.”

“I designed it to match,” he admitted, clasping both of his hands around yours. “And since we’re both feeling a little chummy right now, I will admit that I said things that I should not have said.”

He cautiously looked into your eyes before he continued. “Your opinions were never imposing. You are my– our partner now, and you are allowed to voice your opinions even if they are imposing. Yes, I’m the boss and I make the final decision but that does not mean that I do not make sure that all my partners are satisfied with the decision I will make.”

“I know,” you said softly, surprised at the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. 

“I’m just eager to make this deal,” he sighed. “This drug project has been in the works for far too long now, and I know I should be cautious, but it’s a golden opportunity, isn’t it?” 

You nodded. “I might have been overthinking because it’s my father who encouraged us to proceed with the deal. I haven’t heard back from Madame Cha yet.”

“And that is why I delayed the meeting,” he reminded you. “But you must understand that I cannot delay it any further, right?”

You nodded, pursing your lips. There was still an unsettling feeling in your heart and now you were starting to understand the gravity and the seriousness of this drug project. It could improve the healthcare system of Eden and it could shake Eden as it exposes the people who tried to keep silver light all to themselves. Perhaps, you were just anxious because of those reasons. 

“I understand, and I will cooperate,” you said and he shook his head at your choice of words. You let out a nervous laugh, the tension releasing from your body. “I mean, I accept your apology and I will work with you when we shake hands with Madame Tiffany. She’s probably a good choice– the best option we have for now.”

“The best option we’ve ever had,” Hongjoong said. “And I’m wary of her too. My network is meticulous and so far, she’s mostly clean. Only misfortune can ruin us now.”

“Let’s hope not,” you squeezed his hands in assurance before drawing them away. “Also, is there any way for you to contact President Son?”

“What for?”

“I was just wondering if he would like to share what he has on President Lee.”

“If it was that easy, I would have asked him ages ago,” Hongjoong chuckled.

“I know!” Your shoulders sagged. “Still…”

“He’s not the type of man to share information just like that, and I don’t even want to try,” Hongjoong raised his hands in surrender. “He’s scary.”

“So you are scared of someone, huh? You’re just human, after all,” you folded your arms, laughing mockingly. 

“One wrong move and he will end my whole career,” Hongjoong reminded you and you bit on your lower lip in thought.

“What if we have something to trade? Information, an opportunity, something like that?”

“He is the kind of person who knows everything that happens– in Eden and in the underworld of this continent. It’s no wonder that he exercised presidency in Eden for two whole terms. A solid ten years of experience in that position, given his background is something to fear.” 

“So we need him, but he does not need us,” you sighed in resignation when Hongjoong nodded. “Alright. I’ll see if there’s some other way to find information about President Lee. I really don’t think he’s unaware of this Strictland business. There is no way Secretary Park is making all these visits to Halaland personally under his nose.”

“Jongho is working on that,” he assured you. “He has a few connections in Halaland but they’re waiting for Secretary Park’s next visit to their country before they tail him.”

“Good idea. Have we still not found any clues about the anonymous source?”

“No, but I have a feeling it’s gonna be something big,” Hongjoong rubbed his face, tired. “We will also have to wait for the end of this month but I can’t promise any results. The anonymous sources usually hire someone from delivery services who have no connection to both parties. We correlate the timing through them– we hide our identity too. It’s going to be hard.”

You sat in silence, sorting your thoughts out and then agreeing that it was best to wait and see. Hongjoong reminded you that Madame Tiffany was arriving in three days’ time and that he and Seonghwa were going to show her around, but they would appreciate your presence when the actual meeting happens.

And it was the pressure of your new role that made you search for the comfort of your old job– where a part of you would always be, you mused. The Crescent Bar was almost like a home to you now, and tonight you were looking for Yeosang so you could tell him the events of Edenary in detail and talk about the things that you had been avoiding for a while now before it gets too complicated. 

You had just wrapped up things with Yunho in the office before coming here and you might have talked to him instead, but it was getting harder to look at him and not have your heart melt a little. You were afraid that you were going to make a mistake– or simply, not think rationally in his presence. That is why your heart reached for Yeosang. You had known him the longest time and it was always comfortable with him, even after the subtle shift in your relationship. 

However, when you sneaked in through the back door, wanting to avoid the rest of your friends who worked at the front, you found the door to his office locked. You stood there with your hand on the knob, your shoulders tensing up with each passing minute as you wondered where he was–

“Luna?”

You turned to find San who was shrugging on his usual leather jacket over a black tank top. It looked like he was getting ready to go home.

“Oh, hi,” you awkwardly waved. “Done for the night?”

“Yeah, what’s up? Are you looking for Yeosang?”

“Yes, but it looks like he’s not here,” you pursed your lips. “So I’ll be going back home.”

He studied you for a moment before shaking his head. “You need a drink?”

“Not here, I sneaked in from the back door,” you told him and he smiled in understanding. “Just wanted to talk to him about… stuff.”

“Well,” San stepped closer. “You can talk to me, if you’d like? No pressure– we could go somewhere else. I was going to go home anyway, and I’ll be alone tonight. No engagements.”

You contemplated for a moment. San was definitely easy to talk to and you both were very comfortable ranting to each other about what was going on in your lives. While he wasn’t as good as Yeosang at helping you navigate through what you were thinking… he was comforting in a different way. Like a friend, your equal.

“I guess we could walk around for now, yeah?”

“I’ve got drinks at my place if you’d like to drown your sorrows away,” he laughed and you clapped in acknowledgement, asking him to lead the way– you would definitely need a few drinks to talk about tonight’s subject matter.

The matter being what the eight of them really wanted from you.

~

“Look,” you took a deep breath, glad your mind was not cloudy from all the drinking you had been doing. San wasn’t drinking very much, opting to hear you out instead and promising to stop you if he thought was necessary. “I get it. You guys are close, in more ways than you let on–”

“It’s really not that complicated–” he began but you shot him a warning glare and he pretended to zip his mouth.

“To you, it may not be. You guys have been together for a long time, San,” you reminded him, shifting so you were sitting cross-legged on the floor now, resting your elbows on the table. You moved the bottles in front of you, arranging them into triangles while you talked. “Your relationship developed naturally. Right?”

“You’ve been with us for a long time too, now,” San countered. “At least with me and Yeosang.”

“That’s why I’m in your apartment right now. If it was someone else, I wouldn’t have intruded,” you winked at him and he laughed. “But my point is… how would it change us? What would it mean for me?”

“I think you need to answer a few questions first,” San shrugged. “If you’re comfortable with at least a few of us. If you see us in that light– if you want to be with some of us romantically.”

When San brought you to his apartment, he showed you around like a gentleman. He lived with Mingi and Seonghwa but Mingi usually stayed in the warehouse, opting to come back during the weekends. Seonghwa was visiting some family so he wouldn’t be home tonight either.

Then you told San about the details of your time in Edenary– specifically your argument with Hongjoong and how it got resolved now. He didn’t comment much, only smiled knowingly and agreed that Hongjoong could be a bit temperamental at times but that was probably stress. 

And when you told him about your kiss with Seonghwa and your undeniable feelings for Yunho and Yeosang, he couldn’t help but make a few teasing remarks which finally made you get a good amount of wine in your system. You asked him to simply  answer all your questions without ambiguity. You couldn’t simply sit around anymore and keep getting distracted over what was and what could be.

“Maybe I do,” you answered, your mouth suddenly feeling dry and you were glad you had some drinks in your system because you couldn’t have admitted it with this confidence otherwise. “Maybe I like you too.”

San smirked. “I’ll hear that when you’re sober, thank you very much.”

“I am sober. Just a little bit tipsy,” you straightened. “Come on, San. Don’t push me back now.”

“I’m not,” he gently said, scooting closer. “You wanna cuddle?”

“Cuddle?” You gaped at him– the mafia capo wanted to cuddle. With you.

“How long has it been since you’ve sat in someone’s arms, dear? Even platonically?” 

There was a certain sadness in his voice that you couldn’t pinpoint. It made your heart sink, and you wondered if he had looked through your heart and found how lonely you were. 

Cautiously, you scooted closer where he sat on the floor with his back resting on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you. You sat in front of him, unsure of how he wanted you to sit.

“This is weird,” you told him and he shook his head, grabbing your wrists and turning you around so you were now tucked in his embrace, and with his bare, strong arms wrapped around you, you had to admit–

This was nice- no, this was lovely. 

“Relax,” he said in a low voice, adjusting your bodies so you both sat a bit more comfortably. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you assured him, slowly letting the tension release from your body. “You’re right, I’ve almost never done this.”

“You don’t need to be partners to do this,” he told you, caressing your hair. “I think every human needs or craves a little skinship. I, for one, can’t sleep without holding something.”

“Oh,” you giggled at his admission and he chuckled. “So you cuddle just about anyone?”

“Anyone or anything,” he grinned. “Isn’t it nice?”

“Yeah, you’re like a cushion. A hard one– what’s all that muscle for?” You poked his biceps and he laughed loudly, poking your stomach and making you squirm in his grasp. 

“We used to sit like this– the boys,” San said after a moment, voice deep with the memories of that time. “Usually it was Mingi and I after a tough night during the war. Jongho doesn’t really like cuddling but sometimes, he needed that too. We were all soldiers in the same platoon.”

“Did you know each other from before the war?” You asked, tracing patterns into his arms while you rested your head against his chest.

“Mingi and Yunho did. Yeosang and Wooyoung were old friends too, and they were stationed in the same area so they often met up. And then Yunho and Hongjoong became friends during the war, and after the treaty happened, we just… found each other again. We have never separated since.”

“You’re each other’s home now,” you smiled. “It must be nice to have each other.”

“It is,” he said. “We can always rely on each other. And our relationship… it’s different. Sometimes, we comfort each other, but there are no boundaries. Some of us have had girlfriends before, sometimes two of us with one person, but we never really met someone who could fit in with us and be a part of all of us, until… you.”

“And how did you know I would fit right in? Especially with the romantic aspects of your relationship?”

“We didn’t, we just liked when you talked back to Seonghwa,” San said and you laughed, drawing back in his embrace so you could face him. “Yeosang liked you from the beginning, but he’s probably the most cautious one out of all of us when it comes to relationships. And you always kept a distance until you became a Crescent.”

“Kept a distance for obvious reasons– I had so much to hide,” you sighed. “I can finally be myself since all my secrets are out.”

“Yeah,” San tucked your hair back lovingly. “It wasn’t until you started showing interest in Yunho that we thought that you might be the one for us. Seonghwa, at least, thought so. He had to convince Hongjoong.”

“But how does it work?” You asked. “Do you all… actually like me?”

“Obviously, not all of us yet and not in the same way,” he said and you figured that was true. “You know your relationship is different with all of us. You haven’t really interacted much with the warehouse boys, but with those you have… what do you think? Do you see yourself with us?”

“Does being one of you mean… that I’m with all of you?”

“Not necessarily, no,” San explained. “You can be with a few of us if that is what you would prefer. You can take your time navigating your feelings. You can be with one of us– but we… we’re willing to be with you if you are.”

“It’s… a lot,” you laughed, heart feeling full at the thought though there was an anxious strain in your chest that accompanied the feeling.  

“Your own pace, darling,” San kissed your temple. “Whatever you say, whoever you want, whenever you want.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “So you will all be my boys then?”

San couldn’t help but gleam at the sound of that.

“It’s been the eight of us for a long time now,” San admitted. “And if you accept us, it will be the nine of us, and nobody else.”

“Well…” you scanned his face, finding his eyes full of hope with a hint of caution. You wished to erase that emotion from his eyes, now that you had your answer. “I actually quite like the sound of it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you folded your arms. “If I get tired with one of you, there’s always another. And another. And another–”

San groaned loudly, moving to tickle you again but when you tried squirming out of his grasp, the two of you somehow wrestled yourselves into a position so your bodies were flush against each other, with you lodged in his lap so you were at eye-level. San’s gaze darkened for just a moment and he removed his hands from around your body to make sure you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

But then you moved to cup his face, entranced by the way his eyes watched you and his plump lips parted for air. You traced the sharp curves and edges of his face, running your thumb over his lower lip.

“San… does it make me selfish if I really want to be a part of you guys? If I want all of you, in some way or another?”

“Not at all,” he whispered. 

“Does it make me greedy to crave love?” You tilted your head, inspecting the moles and freckles that littered his neck. “To crave you?”

“No,” he rested his hands on the dip of your waist. “We all crave love. It’s natural.” 

“You won’t break my heart, right?” You asked, locking eyes with him, unable to keep the assertiveness out of your voice even though it threatened to betray you. “None of you. I don’t think I have more capacity in me to grieve if I lose someone again, San. I’ve already lost everything once and it took me a lot of time to recover.”

“We will never do that to you,” he squeezed your waist in assurance, the promise in his eyes strong. “We protect each other. We don’t betray each other. We’re one.”

You nodded, leaning forward just a fraction, unable to deny the magnetic pull and he held his breath in anticipation. “Do you mind if I…”

“Are you sure?” San asked. “I don’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret coming here tonight, Luna. Bringing you here wasn’t– this wasn’t my intention–”

You reckoned that the only way to shut him up now was to capture his lips in a kiss. He froze for a moment before melting under your touch and reciprocating the kiss. His hands lowered to your hips, wrapping around your back as he brought your bodies closer and you kissed his lower lip sweetly before drawing back for breath.

For a few moments, you assessed each other. San studied the vulnerability in your eyes, watched how your eyes ran along the expanse of his upper body, your hands following the path as they traced down his shoulders and then came back to smoothen the fabric of his tank top.

“You’re… hot, Choi San,” you breathed out the confession and he laughed, eyes laden with adoration as he watched you. 

“You sound drunk, Luna,” he said. “And I don’t want you to make a drunken mistake tonight.”

“I’m not drunk,” you steeled your gaze. “But okay, I get it. You’re a gentleman to the bone.”

“That I am,” San picked you up effortlessly as he got up and you almost squealed, wrapping yourself around him instinctively. San’s body shook as he laughed and he waited until your fear settled and you drew away to look at him.

“Would you like to stay over?” He asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, frowning in anticipation.

“Then let’s go wash up and cuddle until we sleep. Don’t let your drunken thoughts keep you up at night, darling.”

You pouted but you were aware that you would be thanking him the next morning. The two of you went to separate bathrooms to wash up and he lent you one of his shirts and a trouser for the night. You took your time in the shower, letting the water wake you up and take the cloudiness in your mind with it.

Once done, you walked to his room and stood in shock at the absurd amount of pillows on his bed– every shape, every size. San simply watched you from his bed, amused.

“That one looks like it’s begging for death,” you pointed at a worn out pillow in the middle of the bed.

“That’s my favourite pillow to cuddle,” San chuckled, patting the space next to him.

“I’ll dethrone it– I’ll be your new favourite cuddle pillow,” you promised, getting inside the covers and tackling him in a hug which made him laugh in surprise, his arm going around your back to hold you close. 

“Didn’t expect you to be the shy type, Luna,” he said sarcastically.

“Didn’t expect you to be such a gentleman, but here we are,” you pecked his lips, gauging his reaction before sharing another sweet kiss.

“It’s really good to be here tonight. Thank you, San.”

“It’s nothing,” he caressed your head. “I didn’t expect this turn of events, but I hope all your questions are answered now.”

You grinned– truly, the night had taken an unexpected turn but you were not going to complain. There was only one thing left now. 

You will have to make this official amongst the boys. You needed to hear if they were alright with this, and if they were, you were ready to become a part of their team.

For now, you were content sleeping in San’s warm embrace.

The wet winters was an unavoidable thing in Eden but it was still amusing to see how it vexed the citizens of Eden. The rest of your week passed by in a blur, unforgiving with its never-ending downpour of rain that cast a bleak spell on the area. The laughter of the children was replaced by shrieks as they huddled under shade, being shouted at by their guardians to get back home. The once calm and steady footsteps of the people making their way to begin with their day at their workplace was substituted by wet and uneven steps, often accompanied by a whisper of a string of curses. 

You tried to stay optimistic but even you could relate to the cranky pedestrians when a cycle, or worse, a car would pass by, sending a splatter in your direction which you would narrowly avoid. Sometimes, you would carry the drops of muddy water on your bottoms to the office and make a quick stop at the toilet to scrub it off. You wished there was an umbrella that would guard you from head to toe.

Seonghwa told you that it was called ‘a car’ and you made a face– you would not be accepting conveyance offers. Your walks to the office and back home were perhaps the only mundane activity left in your life. Plus, you liked how the morning walk specifically made you vigilant if it was raining– calculating where to place your next footstep was quite a nice activity to wake your mind and get it running for the rest of the day. Working with the ‘big three’ made you want to start your day as normally as possible. 

It also kept you humbled, and perhaps, you needed that now more than ever. While you and Hongjoong were no longer tense, you were starting to understand a few things. You were no longer an Edenary citizen– not by any means. You were now a Crescent, and that was the only identification you would need in the future. 

Being a Crescent meant that you were an equal now. There were no longer any power dynamics going on– you did not need to prove your worth with the information you had or with your status. You just needed to work with them. They needed your brains– though, again, they really didn’t, as Hongjoong had clarified. They just needed… you.

Why did they need you anymore? Their deal with Madame Tiffany was done. You had already shared everything you knew about the elite’s dirty secrets that you deemed significant. Did you really deserve to be a Crescent? Did you deserve this position in the Crescent? Sure, a bookkeeper, maybe you earned that. A secretary, even. But to be one of The Leaders?

And to be wanted by them? Desired?

That question gnawed at you like a constant itch ever since San told you about the true dynamics of their relationship and their offer– to be with as many of them as you liked. While his admission had helped the guilt that you wished to be with more than one of them, it also contributed to the self-doubt and the insecurities you had been harbouring in your heart. Did you really deserve to be at this position?

And it was this confusion about your self-worth that was making you delay officially accepting their offer to be a Leader and be a part of their relationship dynamic. San had explained that the latter part would be shaped on your terms but that did nothing to comfort you. Plus, there were more pressing matters that you needed to take care of. It was odd how Madame Cha had not responded back to you after you told her about Madame Tiffany. You were wondering if she ever received your letter in the first place or if someone else got to it first– you wouldn’t be surprised if your father’s rats intercepted the letter. 

Madame Tiffany was now fully aware of the boss’ vision for silver light. She understood why it was so important to a man like Kim Hongjoong to have that drug earn the status of a medicine so that he could crush the most powerful drug network in Edenary. Once silver light would be in the hands of a common man, the elites would no longer want to consume it or keep using it as their currency. The fundings for silver light would stop and he would finally learn just which influential personalities of Eden were involved in this. Things for the Crescents, especially business, would get easier from there. 

Madame Tiffany, of course, didn’t need to know the last part. She could keep wondering if it was solely because Hongjoong was a moral man who wanted the best for the people of Eden.

That was true. He did want the best for his people– just not without gaining something himself as well.

Tonight was the last meeting with Madame Tiffany before she would be going back to Wonderland. So far, the sessions had been fruitful and she had already made her first instalment of payment, thus solidifying the partnership. You attended a few meetings too and learned a lot from her– while she was considerably young for an owner of multiple businesses, she was well-experienced and had knowledge to share. You were starting to think that you had been worried for no reason. 

When you were not attending the meeting, you were working in the background with her assistants while Hongjoong and Seonghwa or Yunho gave Madame Tiffany company. Tonight, you were handling the legal aspect of the finances with Jihoon– the two of you had been on it since before Madame Tiffany arrived, making sure her huge advance payment would be adjusted properly and unsuspiciously into the current statements especially since a few inspectors had been keeping an eye on the Crescents tax and bank statements recently. 

You both would have to make sure not to raise suspicion at such a sensitive time and maybe keep the extra cash stored somewhere safe, which was another headache. It was a relief that the weapons incharge group needed cash soon so you only had to worry about transporting the extra bunch safely.

You checked the time on your wrist watch– it was almost 10 and that meant the meeting was about to be over. You let Jihoon know who instantly relaxed back in the chair to crack his neck and you both grinned at the loud sounds that his aching joints produced.

“Eunha owes us a meal for skipping out on this,” you said, signing the last document and shutting the folder with a sense of accomplishment.

“Oh, definitely. I’ll make sure she pays us back as early as possible,” Jihoon muttered, highlighting a line in the report and passing it to you to check for any discrepancies. You confirmed that it was alright and he concluded his work as well. “Oh, also, I forgot to tell you because it’s been so busy here, but someone came looking for you today. Not exactly ‘looking’, but asked if you worked here.”

“Me?” Your heart sank. “Who would?”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t anyone from around here– I would have recognised him if he was. He said he would find you. He didn’t give me a name.”

“Well… geez. It could be someone my father sent to kill me.”

“Yeah, and he would come marching right in here unscathed, huh?” Jihoon shook his head.

“What did he look like?”

“Cool,” Jihoon laughed. “Had a few piercings– one here to match with his moles or something,” he pointed at his brows and your face scrunched in confusion before you realised.

“Lim Jaebeom was here?”

Jihoon narrowed his eyes when you looked absolutely shocked to learn the identity of the person who came to see you. “Is that supposed to be someone important?”

“Kind of, but I wish he had come earlier,” you nervously looked at the closed door of the boss’ room. “That’s my source for verification on Tiffany.”

“I thought you gave up on that?”

“I did,” you nodded and he whistled in response, agreeing it was too late now. You simply needed to pray that Jaebeom brought good news.

You could not stop shaking your leg while you waited for the meeting to be over and once Yunho stepped out, he paused when he saw a very tired Jihoon and a very fidgety you. He immediately came over to dismiss Jihoon first after making sure everything was okay, and then he called you into his office.

“How did the meeting go?”

“It was okay. They’re just chatting now so I thought I would leave. It was a good idea, apparently,” he looked at your jittery hands pointedly. “Can’t wait to go home?”

“It’s not that,” you laughed, deciding not to tell anyone about Jaebeom until you actually had something to share. “Okay, yeah, I might be a bit tired too.”

Yunho hummed in response while he locked the documents in the cabinet. “You need a ride? I’m going to the bar and it looks like it’s still raining.”

“Oh, yes, please,” you groaned in relief. “I can’t wait to take these damp clothes off– I had to run outside to get a snack and got caught in the rain.”

Yunho raised a brow, scanning your body– if the clothes had been a lighter colour, he might have gotten a look at your silhouette. You folded your arms and shook your head.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Lieutenant Jeong. I’m not taking anything off here.”

“Whatever happened to our office romance?” Yunho wondered, grinning as he asked you to follow him downstairs and you caught Hongjoong and Madame Tiffany sharing a farewell handshake, opting to wait inside until she was gone. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Hongjoong’s fake smile dropped and he turned, rolling his eyes when he saw the two of you snickering at the change in his demeanour. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. She smiles too fucking much.”

“What a gentleman,” you commented, patting his shoulder in mock sympathy. “We were just leaving– he’s dropping me home.”

“Wait till Seonghwa hears that,” Hongjoong scoffed. “He’s still bitter about how you won’t accept a car and a driver.”

“I’m only making use of this man here,” you pointed at Yunho. “Why don’t you two try taking a walk tonight, huh, you and Seonghwa? Get a breath of that fresh air– you look like you need it.”

You proceeded to sit in the passenger seat with a teasing look shot at Hongjoong who stood at the entrance of the office, thoroughly amused. The ride to your home wasn’t too long so it was mostly silent and you made him park the car at the end of the street so he could save a turn. 

“Well, that is goodnight,” you started grabbing your things. “And we part ways till it is the morrow.”

Yunho brushed his fingers against your hand and you let him link your hands. He squeezed them before he raised your hand to kiss the back of it. 

“When are you going to talk to the boys?”

You knew what he meant. You smiled. “I just want the business to settle down a bit before we take that step. There’s too much going on right now.”

“I understand,” he pressed another kiss to your hand. “I’m just excited for it.”

“Gosh, you’re such a child sometimes,” you laughed, returning the sentiment and kissing the back of his hand. “I think I need to personally talk to Yeosang first.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed. “He’s waited too long for you.”

You pursed your lips guiltily. “He wouldn’t mind that I– that me and you, and me and San–”

“No, he wouldn’t. Not in the slightest,” Yunho assured you. “However, he is the type to mind after you make this official.”

“Oh, thank you for the tip. I shall keep that in mind,” you breathed. That sounded like the Yeosang you knew. “Any other tips to share?”

“Hmm… the underboss likes to receive gifts. Meaningful gifts.”

“I knew he had that side to him,” you shook your head, recalling seeing a bunch of stuff that seemed out of place on Seonghwa’s office desk. “What else?”

Yunho took a moment to think, caressing your hand absently. “The consigliere quite likes intimate moments like these. He might never admit that, though.”

“Is that so?” You tugged at his hand, beckoning him to look at you and for once, he looked shy which made you bite back a grin. “Does he like eye contact or is he too tough for that?”

“Oh, he can hold his eye contact,” Yunho assured in a low voice, looking intently at you and sending butterflies in the pit of your stomach. “He is known not to break away first.”

“I would take this challenge when I’m not feeling icky,” you told him, just wanting to get out of your clothes that stuck to your skin. “But…”

You pulled him in and locked his lips with yours, sharing a sweet kiss. The way he looked at you afterwards made you want to stay and talk about feelings, for once, but you only smiled, pecking his lips in farewell. 

And it was a good idea to let him go. Just as you had predicted, the familiar figure of the leader of one of the most notorious and influential underworld gangs of Wonderland sat on a bench, fiddling with his smoke. You took a look around before taking a seat at the other end of the bench.

“Fancy seeing you here, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom scanned your figure slowly with his piercing gaze before it softened just a fraction. “You’ve grown, kiddo.”

You smiled widely at the term– strangely, he had been the first one to give you such a childish nickname. It made you see him in an almost familial way. 

“How’s Madame Cha?” You asked. “And what brings you here?”

“Your aunt’s the same,” he began, crossing one leg over the other. “Which means she’s thriving, keeping the boys busy. Me? I came to take a breather.”

“Lies,” you scoffed. “You can’t leave them alone. You’re incapable of that.”

“But I’m here,” he spread his arms to prove a point. “Okay, I’m here with Jinyoung. He had some business here and now was a good time to tag along and deliver some news.”

“Good news or bad news?” You asked sombrely.

“Both?” He inhaled deeply. “But not now. There’s still a few things I need to check before I decide what to give you.”

“Is this about Madame Tiffany?” You prodded. Reluctantly, he gave in with a nod.

“Just tell me if it looks bad,” you tried swallowing the anxiety in your voice.

“It could be the end of your beloved Crescents’ career, if I’m right about this,” he said in a low voice and you cursed under your breath– you knew it. “It’s hard to say anything right now because we didn’t find anything while investigating her. She’s clean, you know that.”

You nodded. Countless thorough checks brought nothing to attention. 

“You know Madame Cha makes us track shifts in the elite world to have an idea of what the political situation in the continent looks like– and it’s looking bad. We fear the stepping stones for the second war of our lifetime are being cemented, and we’re working with people from around the continent to try and stabilise the situation. It’s kind of ambiguous right now, so I can’t really say…”

“But she might be involved?” 

“We spotted her with far too many instigators to call it a ‘coincidence’,” Jaebeom explained. “It could be just her business and stuff, but there’s a chance that she might be involved. However miniscule it might be.”

“Good lord,” you breathed. “Wish I had learned that earlier.”

“Like I said, she’s clean. Far too clean,” Jaebeom tsk-ed in disappointment. “But we got a tip and got busy. We might need the Crescents to join hands with us in the future, so don’t look like you’ve just seen the grim reaper.”

“You don’t understand,” you looked at Jaebeom, positive your face was void of colour now. “If she’s involved… we’ve given her the key to destroy the Crescents… and ultimately Eden.”

Jaebeom pursed his lips in disbelief. “I sure hope not. I’ll report back soon– stay vigilant.”

The ickiness of your clothes didn’t bother you anymore. You sat on the bench, letting the dampness of it stick to your soul for a while, waiting for a miracle to happen. However, the only miracle that did happen was that you mustered up your courage to go in the comfort of your room, away from the monsters of this world.

After washing up, you found yourself in front of Wendy’s room. Her door was slightly ajar and you peeked inside– she seemed to be asleep. You quietly got inside the covers next to her and she stirred in her sleep, turning to you and opening one eye to confirm your presence.

“Everything alright?” She mumbled, voice laden with sleep.

You didn’t answer. “I’m just very tired, Wendy.”

Wendy smiled sadly before falling back asleep, one arm draped over your chest. You followed, hoping the last bit of tonight was just a bad dream and you would magically wake up in your own room as if nothing had happened.

next chapter

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OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 3.7k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; woohoo quinn's back & it's not just luke for hughesbowl lol! not really proof-read. happy reading <3

CHAPTER FIVE

QUINN

Simon: ‘Touch my sister, and you’re dead.’

Simon: ‘She’s off-limits, so don’t even think about it, Hughes.’

I woke up to a very cryptic text from Simon. A threat, really.

My eyes idle at it for a long moment, then tossed my phone back onto my nightstand and rubbed my hands down my face.

What the fuck did that even mean?

Simon never texted me ever, not once in our years together with the Canucks. He never had the reason to reach out to me. So, he most likely got my number from our team’s group chat–which I had to be very active on as the captain. 

The team and I sent messages to each other, updated each other during breaks or days off, hockey shit, and a few memes here and there. Simon never responded to it, maybe once or twice, but almost never. 

The only time he would text in the chat was when he had something to show off to the guys. Typical. 

I didn’t bother answering him. I figured I’d get my answer when I saw Sydney later today, but that text threw me off guard. 

Sydney Gray.

During the few days after officially meeting her, I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she was the cafe girl from weeks ago. On top of that, she was our trainer and–worst of all–she was Simon’s sister. How does one cope with all that information dumped onto them all at once?

But, she wasn’t anything like I’d imagined.

The few times I overheard Simon talking about her over the years, I’d expected her to be just as lively, stubborn, and prideful as her brother. Sure, they had the same spunk and shared some traits with one another. But she was nothing like that at all.

Sydney was more level-headed, quieter, and dry-witted. The complete opposite to Simon.

If Simon was all fire, then Sydney would be ice. Not cold…just more controlled.

When I showed up to the Lumé Wellness studio days ago, I was fully prepared to at least tolerate her–and Simon–just to get through the summer. But what I didn’t expect to find out was that the same girl I had met at the café–who I couldn’t stop thinking about–was siblings with the one person who had it out for me.

I wasn’t sure why Simon thought otherwise and was implying that I had a ‘thing’ for his sister. This thing between me and her was strictly professional, nothing more and nothing less. 

I had no intention of going for Sydney Gray.

So why were you eager to leave this Canuck’s campaign shoot to get to the studio earlier to see her?

I scoffed at the little voices in my head. Shut the hell up.

As soon as I arrived at Lumé Wellness not long after the shoot, I walked in the same studio room from the other day, but stopped by the door frame when I saw her.

Sydney was already stretching on the mats, bobbing her head to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers.

“Rihanna? What happened to Michael Jackson?” My voice cuts through the music, just enough for her to hear me. 

Sydney turned to face me. Our eyes collided, causing me to stand upright by the door. 

She looked surprised at me as she stood up to turn the volume down. “I didn’t think you’d ever listen to a Rihanna song.” 

“Oh come on, Gray. Way to underestimate me.” I said as I placed my stuff on the floor, next to hers. “I don’t live under a rock.”

“I highly doubt that.” She smirked.

I found my spot next to her and started following her stretches, keeping one eye on her as she moved through the routine with ease.

For a moment, we fell into a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the speaker filling the space. 

The stretch had become routine now, something that should have felt mindless. But as I reached down towards my toes, feeling the familiar pull in my hamstrings, my gaze flicked to the clock on the wall. 1:17 PM. Simon was late. 

I recalled the events that happened on Monday, when Simon got an emergency call from his wife and left the session early. Then Sydney mentioned that he was going to be a father soon. It made me realize, even as teammates for the past few years, that I really knew nothing about him at all.

I exhaled through my nose holding the pose as I glanced at Sydney. She was focused, rolling out her shoulders, which I noticed she always did before we started.

“Is Simon coming?” I finally asked.

Sydney paused for a second, then shook her head. “No, not today. Or–” she tilted her head. “–at all, actually.”

I gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Was I missing something here?

“Simon’s wife is going into labour,” she started, sighing. “He left for California the same night he got the call. Your coach okayed his leave and he’s officially out for the summer. So, that means it’s just the two of us now.”

Now that explained the random-ass text I woke up to this morning.

If I hadn’t been so groggy and barely awake, I would’ve understood that more clearly. But now, hearing Sydney say that Simon was officially out of the cross-training sessions, it made more sense.

“Wait,” I said, my brows clashing together. “Then why are we still doing this? If Simon’s out, doesn’t that mean we should–”

Sydney shook her head, denying my question before finishing it. “Grace said the agreements between the studio and the Canucks were already signed and the program was already paid for. There was no going back just because one person had to make a sudden leave.” 

“Right.” I stood up straight, finishing my stretches, and turned to face her. “And you’re okay with this?”

I was only curious about what she thought in light of recent events. I mean, I don’t blame her for being upset or annoyed that this was how things turned out. It wasn’t ideal for the both of us given her slight tinge of annoyance in her voice while she was explaining. 

What if she was looking forward to it? Nah, who was I kidding? Of course she wasn’t.

Sydney shrugged her shoulders as we exchanged glances. “It’s not like I had a choice.”

Oh come on, don't look so disappointed.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. “I guess there’s no point in fighting it. So now it’s just you and me.” 

She only nodded, “Yeah.”

I let out a slow breath, settling onto the reformer before Sydney demonstrated an exercise using the carriage and the foot rest. 

This whole thing was getting more complicated than I wanted it to be.

I wasn’t opposed to the idea of having one-on-one training with Sydney–as much as I hate to admit it, I enjoyed the first session more than I expected. But that wasn’t the point.

I also couldn’t stop thinking about how I could be in Michigan right now.

Spending time with my brothers, training with my dad, cooking with my mom, playing pool in the basement, getting out on the lake, watching the on-going Stanley Cup finals–although, it would've been difficult for me to watch knowing our team could’ve been playing on the big stage as well.

The point was, if I didn’t have to be here, I could be back home. Living out the off-season like I always did.

Instead, I was in Vancouver, about to suffer through another session with Sydney Gray. 

“So, are you ready to start for real this time?” Sydney asked once I finished a few sets of the first exercise. “Because you said last time this wasn’t difficult enough for you.”

I will admit, just from that first exercise, I was definitely starting to feel it. But I tried to conceal that from her. “Did I say that? I don’t exactly remember.”

“Yes, you did.” She tapped the frame of my reformer. “Let’s see if you still think that today.”

I didn’t.

We started the real session, and I immediately knew I was in for it.

The reformer exercises were harder than last time. During the first day here, I had held my own, keeping up with whatever Sydney threw at me. I thought it was easier than I assumed, but clearly not since those were only the basic workouts.

Not halfway through the next few exercises when my muscles were burning. My legs shook as I pushed through another rep, my arms were going limp as I struggled to maintain my form.

Sydney noticed. Of course she did.

“Are you sure these aren’t that difficult for you?” she asked, the smirk in her voice making me want to push and power through it out of spite.

I gritted my teeth. “Yeah. Don’t mind me.”

She let out a soft laugh but didn’t say anything else. The sight of me having a hard time was her new source of entertainment.

By the time we finished and hit the end of the session, I was sweating more than I wanted to admit, my breathing a little heavier than it should have been. 

“So, was that enough of a challenge? You look pretty banged up.” Sydney folded her arms, obviously pleased with herself–I was a mess in front of her.

I shot her a look, pretending like that hadn’t absolutely kicked my ass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, playing it off. “Barely felt it.”

“Sure…” I heard her mumble out.

She began picking up her things, indicating that our time was up. 

I waited for her by the door of the room, watching as she fetched her water bottle before walking towards me. We yet again found ourselves walking side by side in the hallway.

Not too sure why I did that the first time around–waiting for her. It was like an unspoken rule between us, like we didn’t want to end our conversation just yet. Or maybe it was just me. Most definitely.

I glanced around the studio as we walked in silence. Like the last time I was here, the studio was so empty that it was eerily quiet. No other clients, with the exception of a few other instructors lounging around. And us.

“Where is everyone?” I asked. “Why aren’t there any other classes happening?”

Sydney looked around before shrugging. “Grace said it’s for safety precautions. We clear out the studio before and after your sessions.” 

Well that’s a bit much.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Apparently,” she started. “The studio can’t afford to have too many people know about your special training here.” 

My eyes widen a bit, taken aback. “For me?”

She nodded. “I guess they didn’t want to risk the media circus or something.”

I took that in, feeling a strange mix of appreciation and guilt.

They went through all of this for me, to make it easier for me. They didn’t have to, but they still did.

At the same time, I understood why they couldn’t risk it. I’d had moments before where reporters caught me outside of hockey, anywhere in public really. Fans stopping me for pictures and autographs wasn’t anything new, I didn't mind that. But to this extent? Where would they clear out a whole studio for me?

That was an overkill. I didn’t think I was that much of a celebrity for it. I was sure I could handle it if anything did happen–

I spoke too soon.

The second Sydney and I reached the foyer to the front doors, we were swarmed and blinded by flashing cameras from the other side of the glass doors–deafened by the voices overlapping as questions were thrown at me from all directions.

“Quinn! How do you feel about losing in the second round of the playoffs?”

“Quinn! Quinn! When did you start taking Pilates?”

“Rumors say that you’re training with Simon Gray this summer. Is this true?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

"Quinn! Are you two hooking up?"

I tensed, my jaw clenching as I stared at the sea of reporters and photographers in front of us. I had thought I was in the clear on my way here from the arena. I guess not considering that they found me here. 

How?

I have dealt with this kind of thing before, but never in my life like this. Never where I felt trapped or confided. And I hated it–the sudden ambushes, invading my space, making me want to just flip them off–but I couldn’t do that.

And then I looked over to Sydney.

She was stiff beside me, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly shaky. Anxiety and discomfort was written all over her face, and I knew she wasn’t used to this. She didn’t deserve to deal with it.

I had to get us out of here. Fast.

Without thinking, I reached for her arm and pulled her back into the hallway. “Is there another way out?”

“Back exit, through there.” Another voice cuts in, I glanced and recognized the woman who was presumed to be the owner of the studio. Grace–was it? “I’ll handle them. Go. Now.”

Sydney and I nodded quickly, not wasting a second leading her through the hall, navigating through the studio, moving faster than I thought possible after the workout I just finished.

We made it out the back door, into the back alleyway of the studio, and carefully walked towards the other end of the building.

I peeked around the corner, enough to see the mob still crowding the front.

Grace was out there, stepping outside the studio doors, trying to get them to leave. But it wasn’t working as they continued to press on her.

“Shit,” she said under her breath. “My car is parked right in front of them. They’ll definitely see me if I make a run for it.”

In my head, I tired coming up with different ways to get–

One of the reporters turned, locking their eyes on me. Fuck.

There was no time to think.

“Follow me.” I said, my hand finding hers, clasped together tightly, as she ran with me to my car.

Sydney slid into the passenger seat, then I immediately started the engine, pulling out of the lot before anyone of the reporters could catch up. I wasn’t even sure where I was driving. I just knew I needed to get us out of here.

The car ride was quiet for a moment, save for the faint hum of the engine and the distant sound of traffic as I drove away from the chaos.

I kept my eyes in front of me, but I could see her in my peripheral. Sydney was staring out the window, her hands still clenched into fists in her lap. She was trying to calm down, so I gave her the space to do that. 

I was anxious about how she was feeling, most likely feeling all sorts of emotions. But the last thing she needed was me bombarding her with questions.

After a long while, Sydney let out a slow breath. “Thank you for what you did back there. I wouldn’t have known what to do if it weren’t for you.”

I took my eyes off the road for a second, glancing at her. “You okay?”

She let out a slow breath and nodded. “Yeah. Just…probably didn’t expect my first encounter with the media to be this crazy.” She shook her head slightly, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Then she turned to look at me. “Does that happen to you often?”

“No. Not like this.” I admitted, but I found it hard to believe that she had never experienced something like that–considering who her brother was. “You’ve really never had this happen to you? I figured you’d have to deal with it before since Simon gets swarmed all the time.” 

Her brother had been in the league longer than I have, and let’s just say, he wasn’t exactly media-trained. Reporters loved to leech on Simon, always trying to get him to slip up, to say something worth putting on the articles. I mean, it was his fault for giving the reporters nothing to work with during post-game interviews. The guy was a walking soundbite, whether he meant to be or not. 

If she was related to him, surely, she would have been dragged into it at some point.

Sydney sighed, leaning her head against the seat. “Simon and I don’t really get involved in each other’s lives like that. As much as I stay out of his hockey career, he stays out of mine too. We have our own things, our own spaces, we don’t overlap much.”

“So you never go to the games? Or attend family events?”

“Maybe one or two games in his whole career. The only time we really spend together is at each other’s house or when we text and call.” 

“You two are pretty close then.”

“Yeah, well, we try our best to be. We grew up here in Vancouver with our parents, so we were naturally close. Even though Simon was three years older than me and played sports on the ice together as kids, we still got along well. He was like my built-in best friend. Always looking out for me.”

Although I hated that the conversation was about Simon, I could easily get lost in Sydney’s voice. It was less about the subject–her brother–and more about her. Just the way she spoke–soft, thoughtful, unguarded. 

I could listen to her talk all day.

But then something she said caught my attention, and I wasn’t going to dismiss it either. 

“Wait, sports on the ice?” I repeated her words, my grip on the wheel tightening. “Did you play hockey too?”

Sydney hesitated. I saw the flicker of uncertainty cross her face, the way she tensed faintly like she revealed something she hadn’t meant to.

I was about to take it back, tell her she didn’t have to answer, but then she spoke.

“No, I didn’t play hockey,” she paused before continuing. “For as long as I can remember, we both grew up on the ice together. While Simon had hockey, I had figure skating. I’ve been a figure skater for almost half of my life and then I quit years ago when I was eighteen.”

I slowly nodded, not missing the way she said it–regret, maybe?–like there was something more to it. I figured if she wanted to talk about it more, she would. So I knew better than to push on the matter.

Still, the fact that she had a background in skating–that was something I never would have guessed. It was weird. I hadn’t thought I would ever get a glimpse into Sydney’s life like this. At first, she seemed so closed off and had her wall up from anyone trying to break their way in. 

But now that she was opening up, I was more intrigued than ever.

I was so lost in my thoughts while my gaze was still on her, that I barely realized that the lights were changing and she noticed. Shit.

“Quit staring and eyes on the road, Hughes.”

I snapped my attention forward, just in time for the light to turn green, pressed my foot on the gas. 

Clearing my throat, I scrambled to cover up the fact I had been caught staring at her. “We can’t go back to the studio. Not if the reporters are still there.”

Sydney checked the time on her phone and sighed. “Yeah, I figured. It wouldn’t be a smart idea to head back right now.”

I paused before asking. “Did you have plans later?”

“Yeah, sort of. I was supposed to meet my friend at her workplace after training today.”

I thought about it for a second. I still had about an hour to kill before my own training. Considering what happened earlier, I owed it to her. And besides, I still haven't made it up to her for ruining her hoodie the first time we met.

“I can drive you there.”

She paused, giving me a look. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

For a long while, Sydney eventually caved in, as if deciding it wasn’t worth arguing about.

She handed her phone over with the address, and the moment I saw it, recognition hit me instantly. It was the arena was the same place I was heading to for practice. 

“Funny story actually,” I paused. “I’m heading to the exact arena for practice.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.” Sydney said, her expression was unreadable. “Are you sure? I could just bus–”

“Gray, I am completely sure. Just let me do this for you, please?”

She seemed very reluctant to accept any offers from me–first the hoodie, now this. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but gave me a short nod and didn’t say anything more. 

My curiosity was starting to get the better of me, though. “Do you often not let other people help you? Or is it just towards me?”

“Just to you, Hughes. And It’s definitely on purpose.” Sydney said.

I caught the corners of her lips curve in my peripheral, making me chuckle at her words. “I believe that. You know, since you don’t need anything from an NHL player and all.”

She gave me a look once I repeated what she had said to me during our first encounter.

Sydney rolled her eyes, “How do you still remember that? Seems like ages ago.”

I shrugged. “It’s easy when you’re not that hard to forget, Gray.”

She was quick to turn her head out towards the window, shaking her head with a small laugh, not commenting any further. So instead, I chose to let it go and focused on driving.

Then my mind wandered back to what she had said about her friend that she was going to meet up with. 

If her friend worked at the arena, then maybe I worked or knew of them. A trainer? An employee? Maybe even a player? God, I hope it’s not someone I already knew.

Instead of keeping my thoughts to myself, I asked her. “What does your friend do at the arena?” 

Sydney simply smiled, glancing at me. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

all rights reserved © 2025 hellvst. please do not copy, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are the amazing fics I read these last two months:

These Telltale Tickings | lanallite | [124k] Louis Tomlinson was never meant to be a viscount. His name, his title, his legacy—none of it is truly his. But the Ton does not know that. Not yet. For years, he has kept his distance, doing his duties from his family’s estate in the countryside, far from prying eyes and sharper tongues. But with his eldest sister’s debut, his return to London is inevitable. He has a goal in mind: secure a match for Lottie, ensure his family’s future, and leave before anyone can uncover the truth. Duke Harry Styles has never been one for polite society. A rake with little interest in marriage or mindless gossip, he prefers to keep others at arm’s length. But there is something about Viscount Tomlinson—his guarded words, his careful steps, the undeniable sense that he is hiding something—that Harry cannot ignore. The longer Louis stays, the closer the truth comes to the surface. And the closer Harry gets, the harder it is to remember why he was meant to leave in the first place. or; a Bridgerton inspired fic where Louis is a viscount with a secret and Harry is a duke who won’t stop until he knows what it is.

Mountain Investigation | babyhoneyhslt | [35k] As a plane crash investigator, Louis has handled his fair share of strange cases, but something is different about the crash of British Airways flight BA278. Crashed into the Brecon Beacons, over the Pen Y Fan mountain, very few survived. One of them being the pilot, Harry Styles. While evidence is pointing to a pilot error, something isn't adding up with Harry's story and Louis is determined to figure out what exactly happened that night and why Harry isn't all that keen to prove his own innocence.

Six Ways to Sunday | SilverStuff50 | [11k] Prompt 97: H is an award winning actor who’s a massive fan of The Six, an indie band fronted by a certain LT. H confesses his love for the band in an interview, L takes the piss when asked about him, saying H isn’t cool enough to stan The Six. An internet feud starts with the fandoms facing off, whilst behind the scenes H’s secret crush on L makes him determined to change the man’s mind about him. While the fandoms are at war, the two men bicker over Twitter, but behind the scenes the ice is slowly thawing. Or: Harry’s a fanboy and Louis secretly likes the fact. Or maybe not so secretly….

when close to satisfaction | etherealbliss | [88k] After a string of unlucky events, Louis finds himself forced to bring his sharp financial acumen to Harmonia, a beauty and apparel brand known for its whimsical aesthetics but hurt by its inability to make a profit in all its years of operation. Unfortunately, his assistance seems to be far from appreciated by the co-founder and CEO, Harry, who is stubborn, spoiled, and much to Louis' dismay: drop-dead gorgeous. With no other option, he and Harry form an unlikely team in the mission to make Harmonia successful. But as the lines begin to blur through late nights and stolen glances, Louis realizes that the traits he had once despised might just make Harry impossible to resist.

Pulled Under | Niallinjapan2013+ xx_soup_xx | [27k] Orphan Harry shows up in Louis’ remote island’s primary school one day, thus beginning a lifelong friendship, only strengthened by a storm and a wreckage. Until Louis takes a dive in the sea that changes everything.

it's warm in antarctica | HoldingOnToChaos | [26k] After having his heart accidentally broken by Harry, Louis is offered a job opportunity in Australia. With nothing keeping him tied to England and a desperate desire to not watch the man he loves love someone else, he takes it. When he eventually returns home to England, he’s so sure that his feelings are gone. So. Sure. Right? -- Or Louis runs away to Australia but can’t escape his feelings

Legally Married, Morally Confused | Kiwiwatermelongrapejuice | [51k] Louis Tomlinson is just a bartender. A chaotic little shit of a bartender, sure, but still—a normal, very straight man just trying to flirt with models and get free drinks out of it. Until he accidentally Snapchats a murder. With a leprechaun filter. To his public story. Now he’s the FBI’s biggest headache and only eyewitness in a high-profile assassination. Which is why he ends up in Witness Protection—with a fake husband. Enter: Harry Styles. FBI adjacent. Professional. Mysterious. Also alarmingly good at pretending to be married. For safety, they must convincingly pose as newlyweds. Hold hands. Sit close. Share a bed. You know. Normal married stuff. It’s all fake. Totally fake. Absolutely, definitely fake. ...Until it starts to feel like it’s not. Now they’re stuck in suburbia with nosy neighbors, flirty baristas, Niall texting from FBI HQ, and a growing number of feelings no one wants to name. There are rules. They just keep breaking them. Or: The one where Louis goes into Witness Protection and ends up in a fake marriage with a very real problem: he might be catching feelings for his FBI-assigned husband.

waiting room is getting crowded | harrysboy | [13k] “Look— um. I really appreciate the apology. I kind of assumed you just needed space. But, uh— about Louis… He’s… He’s right behind you. In the waiting room.” What. Harry whips around. And yeah. Louis’ here. “What the fu—” “Holy shit.” or, broken-up harry and louis both decide to get their oops and hi tattoos covered. what they didn't decide on, however, was having their appointments booked for the same time.

100% customer satisfaction guaranteed | fckingfreakshow | [48k] I. please remain on the line harry’s looking for love, or at the very least a date that doesn’t make him want to walk off the brooklyn bridge. his friends call him a serial dater, but he prefers romantically persistent. he believes in the process and sometimes, you gotta kiss a few toads and pay sketchy astrology sites for the answers. what he really wants is simple. someone fun, who keeps him on his toes, who doesn’t take themselves too seriously. someone who’ll flirt shamelessly, make him laugh, maybe even whisper sweet nothings into his ear… he just didn’t expect the last part to be so…literal. II. thank you for waiting “I feel like I know everything about you,” Harry finally murmured, carefully, as if the air itself was fragile. “But at the same time, I don’t know you at all.” Louis huffed a quiet laugh, tilting his head back against the brick. “Yeah, I get that.” Harry rolled his head to look at him. “Do you?” “I mean,” Louis continued. “I know the sound you make when you’re about to fall asleep but don’t want to admit it. Or how your words get all jumbled when you’re excited, like your brain’s moving too fast for your mouth to keep up. How you start three different sentences before finishing one, like you’re afraid you’ll lose the thought if you don’t get it out quick enough.” Harry felt the heat rise to his cheeks, looking away, hoping the sunset’s blush was enough to hide his own. Louis’ pinky squeezed his, knowing. “I know the way you go quiet when you’re shy...” The words pressed into his ribs, making it harder to breathe. __ or, a continuation of "please remain on the line," picking up a few days after prospect park, as harry and louis navigate learning each other all over again, but this time with touching.

Better Mistakes | lovelarry10 | [117k] “Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world-” “Oh but it fucking is,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How the fuck am I going to tell Matt I’m pregnant with a baby when we’ve not had sex in months? He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he is gonna know there’s no chance this baby is his.” “You don’t have to, uh, tell him it’s mine, right?” Louis scoffed. “Why, are you scared he’s gonna come and kick the shit out of you?” “He wishes,” Harry laughed, looking back down at the test. “Shit, I … I can’t believe this. Louis, I didn’t mean for this. Honestly. It was just sex for me. We have great sex, and I didn’t see why I should have to turn that down, not when you clearly wanted it as much as I did. I didn’t want this to end in a baby.” »｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡« Louis knows he shouldn’t be sleeping with his boyfriend’s enemy. He knows that. But there’s something that draws him back to Harry over and over again. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan...

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction | SwimmingInAChampagneSea | [40k] “And finally, Harry’s so-called quirky trait is probably the one that requires most getting used to," Zayn says, smirking. Louis looks at Harry, whose only reaction is rolling his eyes so hard Louis thinks they could get stuck. “It’s normal and natural,” Harry sighs. “Right, so lads, Harry masturbates a lot. Like a lot. And he is not quiet," Niall says, grinning and looking at Harry like he sort of admires him for it. Louis looks at Harry again. He has squared his shoulders and is looking defiantly around the room. Louis is intrigued. This could be fun. “Are you a leftie?” Louis asks, obviously looking to tease Harry. Harry sighs so profoundly that Louis is impressed with how much air he can blow out in one go. "I am not," Harry answers, looking mildly annoyed. "So, how are you getting by now?" Louis asks, generally interested. "Not well," Harry mumbles, looking genuinely annoyed. OR Harry broke his arm and can't pleasure himself the way he likes. Louis has no intention of helping him out AT ALL, but alas, here they are.

Full of Terraced Dreams | InsightfulInsomniac | [47k] In the midst of parenting a teenager on the precipice of presenting as an alpha, the new neighbors moving in next door are the least of Louis' concerns. That is, until said neighbor turns out to be entirely too lovely and also a young single parent. The only problem about this flourishing, flirtatious friendship is that Louis hasn't dated since his daughter was born thirteen years ago, and he has no idea how to navigate adult relationships as a thirty-six-year-old single dad. Although Harry seems to balance the idea of dating and parenting with more ease, he still wrestles with his own insecurities and the protectiveness of the life he's built with his son. That doesn’t stop him from falling hard and fast for his next-door-neighbor. A story of two single parents who come together as a blended family after an unexpected circumstance changes their lives forever.

Yours, Mine, & Ours | tiltreality33 | [126k] A ten year reunion puts ex-boyfriends, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, in the same room together for the first time in ten years. Louis' desperate to avoid the man who left him sobbing outside a dive-bar in the middle of London. It's going swimmingly until an accidental submission to the reunion's slideshow highlights the existence of the son, Leo, that Harry never knew about. Harry's determined to stake a permanent claim in Louis' life as their child's father. Louis knows Harry's temporary, and refuses to allow him to break their son's heart too. The past bubbles up in uncomfortable ways, and choices need to be made. Will Harry and Louis be able to put everything aside in the best interest of their son? Or will everything fall apart just like it did all those years ago?

buy one, get one | sunshinesoraa | [17k] “Expecting a baby, are you, Haz?” Louis smirked, eyes focused down at the UPPABaby box, his Adidas-clad feet crossed at the ankle. Harry wanted nothing more than to conjure up a sentence snarky enough to wipe the look off Louis’ face. And he could have said something back about the obscene amount of makeup palettes in Louis’ trolley, but instead, he stupidly babbled back: “No, ‘m not. Told you before, I’d only have a baby if it was yours.” or, Harry and Louis haven't spoken in five years. They get stuck together in the checkout line at Black Friday. Louis worms his way into Harry's holiday plans, and into his bed.

[kaileyrose28]

Too Close To The Sun

Note.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ: Too Close To The Sun is about an established relationship between DBF Dick and BFD FMC. Everyone knows how much Dick loves Wally, how he'd probably do anything under the sun for that man. And when she appeared, with that radiant pull, he tried to steer clear as best he could. But he's only a man.

18+ (I have to say this), this has sexual content, like seriously.

Kinks or fetishes: Age gap, thing for redheads (we all know Dick), slow sex, love making not fucking, yearning, Dick's totally an emotional fucker, unprotected p in v (wraapp itt)

There are a few specified traits (physical) in this one, only because I liked them too much to trash it.

5,549 words. Female centered sex and gendered phrases sometimes. Second Person POV.

Wally's house always felt like a second home. Familiar, loud in a good way, filled with the smell of whatever Artemis was experimenting with in the kitchen and the comforting buzz of static from the old TV Wally still hadn't replaced. It was the kind of place that wrapped around you like a warm hoodie on a lazy Sunday—casual, easy. Safe.

Until you walked in.

And suddenly, nothing about it was easy anymore.

He'd heard about you for years—Wally had talked, always talked. About how smart you were, how stubborn, how fast you learned, how you were growing up too damn quick. He'd never met you, not really. Just glimpses in passing, photos Wally showed him at dinner, stories shared between bites of pizza or beers on the balcony. You’d been just a kid then. Some distant figure he'd never really paid attention to.

And then you turned eighteen.

And then you walked into the room.

And suddenly everything about who he thought he was got put under a microscope.

You weren't a vigilante—thank god. Wally and Artemis had shielded you from it. Let you live. You had this softness about you that Dick had never had the luxury of knowing in his own life, and certainly not in Gotham. You smiled with your whole face. Laughed like you meant it. You didn't carry the weight of twenty crimes scenes behind your eyes like everyone else in his world did.

You were light. Pure, blinding, soul-splitting light.

And he was a moth with scorched wings pretending he wasn't already halfway gone.

He told himself it was harmless. Admiring from a distance. Noticing the way your nose scrunched when you laughed, or how your eyes lit up when you talked about your favorite books. Not a crime. Not a sin.

But it felt like one. Every damn time you hugged him hello and he had to fight not to melt into your warmth. Every time you sat too close on the couch and he caught your perfume—vanilla and some kind of citrus, sunshine in a bottle. Every time you looked at him like he was someone, not Nightwing or the Bat's golden boy, just... Dick.

He hated how easily you made him forget the lines. The moral high ground. The years between you. Who your father was.

Wally would kill him.

No—he'd kill himself before he ever let it come to that. He'd spent his whole life fighting for control, for discipline. He was discipline. The tightrope walker, the tactician, the golden son who always knew better.

And yet... here he was.

Sitting on Wally's worn-out sectional, pretending to listen to some story about a mission gone sideways, while every cell in his body was tuned to the sound of the front door opening.

Because you were back.

And that meant the next few hours were going to be absolute, unrelenting hell.

You'd walk in with that smile—your smile—and the world would tilt again. His gut would clench, his jaw would tighten, and he'd have to act normal. Act like he wasn't holding himself together by the frayed edges of his own damn soul.

He was failing. Tremendously.

And worse—he didn't want to stop.

You had just gotten back from an outing with a few of your friends, it was a mutual friend's birthday you’d tagged along as a plus one. It was mostly an excuse to go out and see a few good friends while celebrating someone.

You walk into the living room, a few bags in hand. You pause in the doorway, eyes flickering between your dad and Dick—you didn't know he was over, you probably would've greeted him like you usually did if you did.

Their unpredictable schedules make for unpredictable hang outs between your dad and him.

"Hey, Dickie. Hi, dad." You greet the both of them lightly, shuffling over to the coffee table to set the few bags down.

Your eyes drift to the TV playing some sports game you don't care to know. You stand back up straight after setting the bags down, hands going to your hips.

Dick's eyes flick toward you—just for a half second—before he forces them to go back to the game. Pretending like your greeting doesn't send his stomach careening into his gut.

Dickie.

He'd long ago given up trying to change that nickname. You’re the only one who gets to use that one. The only one he wants to use it.

You’re in a short dress, showing more skin than he's ever seen you expose. Redheads have always been his thing—which is not a helpful trait right now.

He forces himself to speak up when the silence stretches. "Hey. Having a good night?" It's normal. Casual, even.

Don't think about the dress.

Don't look at the way the fabric hugs your skin.

Don't let his eyes linger too long on your freckled thighs.

Wally's voice interrupts Dick's own self-destructive spiral. "She was out with some friends. They threw a party."

That doesn't help his self control.

You plop down on the sofa next to Dick as your dad answers for you, it's not like he was wrong. You tell your dad where you’re going and whose you’re going with all the time, even at your age.

It's a habit, and a good one to be honest. A family of vigilantes does that to you.

You recline comfortably, legs propped up next to his thighs. You’ve been up and walking around all day, helping friends and shopping, taking photos or carrying bags because it's just who you are.

Constantly lending a hand because it's just how you were raised.

"I didn't go to the party, though. I did the pre-stuff and then left early." You say, checking your phone for the time for a brief second. "They didn't plan to end till, like, one and I didn't want to wander around that late." You add, dropping your phone onto your lap lazily.

You were a people person but not exactly a party-all-night-till-your-blackout type of people person. You liked a good club, a sexy night out with the girls, but it's just been conditioned into you to get home before midnight no matter what.

Pre-stuff. Meaning you'd spent hours gone before he got here.

With other people.

He has to swallow a pang of irrational jealousy as you settle next to him.

Wally's in the armchair, watching your exchange with a smile, completely unaware of how Dick's about to short-circuit.

You’re close—too close. He can smell your perfume. Something fruity and sweet, like strawberries.

He has very explicit thoughts about biting your neck while you wear it, and that's just not okay.

You stretch slightly, groaning. This is the first time in hours you’ve gotten to actually rest in one spot relaxed, it's like heaven on your feet.

You stretch your legs out, plopping them over his legs comfortably. It's not like you’ve never gotten close to him before, plus he's comfy.

"What've you two been up to?" You mumble, brushing a hand through your hair, letting it fan out over the armrest behind you—the ginger strands contrasting with the muted color of the sofa.

You glance at the TV, but the sports game is still playing and it might as well bore you to sleep.

Your legs are warm on his thighs.

It's not fair—you’re doing it just because he's comfortable, that's all. It's not an excuse to get closer. You’re just tired.

Then, you put your hand through that hair—red tresses spilling over your arm—and the breath hitches in his throat.

He wants to touch you.

He wants to run his hand over those strands. He wants to trace his thumb over your jawline and feel your skin. He wants to press his face against your throat and bury his nose in the soft skin of your neck.

But that's bad.

A line he can't cross, for so many reasons. Instead, he pushes that ache down and turns his head to answer you.

"Nothing special," he says, hoping to god his voice doesn't waver. "Got dinner with Tim. Talked shop."

You hum in acknowledgement of his response, smiling a little at the mention of his younger brother. He's got more siblings than you have parents, you haven't met all of them yet—but sometimes Jason comes to see your step-mom and Tim comes over to talk cases with your dad.

You shift slightly, getting comfortable mostly because you don't want to get up and move. You’re content with talking, comfy in your spot on the sofa with your legs sprawled across his legs.

Feels a bit domestic and a bit intimate but you’re not gonna think about that.

"Do you, like, ever do anything fun?" You say jokingly, knocking his stomach with your knee playfully—it stays lightly pressed there because you’re honestly too lazy to move it back to lay straight across again.

You don't even pay attention to the fact you’re still in a dress.

Dick almost chokes at the contact.

He can't think straight when his brain is split in two—he's feeling too much all at once, getting high on your touch like you’re the world's worst drug.

You’d knocked his stomach, but the gentle pressure of your knee against his abs feels like it's sending lightning through his body. He wants to take your calves and pull your legs into his lap. Spread you open and have you closer, against him, for just a few seconds.

Instead, all he does is clear his throat around a rasping, "Define 'fun'."

You can feel his stomach tense against your knee, the slight hitch of his breath—it makes you both curious and honestly... feeling a little mischievous.

You didn't notice it before, but now that you felt a subtle reaction when you nudged him, you’re looking a lot more.

Noticing.

His pupils are just dilated enough to notice at your angle, the way he seems to be focused on you instead of split between you and your dad, and the way he's talking at you instead of at both of you.

It was kind of... well, it was kind of hot actually.

Makes you feel a little special.

"Something... I don't know. Exhilarating, entertaining. And your job doesn't count." You say keeping up your joking, playful demeanor.

Your dad excuses himself to get another beer from the fridge, oblivious to whatever you noticed as he walks away.

"Like partying or something." You add.

Dick could laugh at the irony, the way his chest tightens when you mention partying.

If only you knew what kind of party he wanted to do with you at the moment.

As soon as your dad disappears out of the room, his eyes lock onto your with a dangerous flicker. Dick lets his gaze rake over you in your little red sundress, his fingers clenching into the soft couch fabric. His voice is a warning on the last word.

"Partying? Really?"

You grin a little, almost small enough to be excused as a smile. You like this, you’re glad you noticed the way he's acting—you almost wish you’d noticed it sooner, those little reactions, the way he looks at you.

Like he's looking at you right now, a slight heat to those blue eyes.

You shouldn't be flirting, or even attempting to flirt, with someone like him. Maybe if he wasn't so connected to your life, wasn't your dads best friend—a man you know your dad trusts more than anything and anyone.

But he's all but asking for you to with those eyes, to be honest.

"Yeah, partying. What? You don't go out to clubs when you're not doing something related to work? Go out on dates or I dunno, hook up?" You say teasingly, shrugging your shoulders a little without moving from your spot. "I'd find that very hard to believe." You add.

You’re playing with fire.

And so is he.

Dick tilts his head and arch an eyebrow at you. He knows he's pushing his luck, and he knows you know you’re pushing yours.

He leans just a little closer, his voice a low rumble. "You're asking if I've got a love life?"

You’re playing dirty, and he's letting you.

He keeps his gaze pinned to yours, forcing himself to sound nonchalant, to be cocky. "Jealous?"

God, there's something about that act he does. The cocky, charming thing.

You’re sure he definitely does it all the time, whether or not it's with other women or in past relationships—you frankly don't care because right now, it's directed at you and for your enjoyment.

And the way he got closer, slightly bent over you from how your legs are in his lap. It's fucking hot, in a way that has you wanting to push him till he breaks and actually does something.

It's inappropriate and definitely wrong in a sense, not you.

But you want to do it nonetheless.

"Why? You want me to be?" You ask, your tone downright flirty because why not? You’re parents out of earshot, the kitchen doesn't look into the living room, and he's basically pulling it out of you.

With that easy act, and that too-good-looking face that makes you wanna do anything for him.

You’re going to get caught.

Dick knows this.

He knows he should stop.

But, god, the way you're looking at him. The teasing in your voice, the challenge. The little hitch to your breath that's just loud enough for him to hear.

He leans in even closer, his body now turned towards you. One of his hands is still pressed into the couch, but the other is resting lightly on your ankle.

He rubs his thumb along the small exposed patch of skin, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

"Maybe."

The touch of his hand on your ankle, light, barely there aside from the circular drag of his thumb against your skin—it has a slight shiver running up your spine.

A line drawn somewhere between them has definitely been crossed and you can't find yourself caring, not now, not ever.

The way he leans closer, his body curled over yours, practically trapping you against the couch—but you know he'd back off if you wanted him to, let you go.

It's what makes it so sexy, so thrilling. Because he's so safe, and you know that. And he's so fucking handsome.

"I kind of really want to kiss you right now." You mumble, tossing the game you two were tiptoeing around out the window because he's so close, he smells good, and he looks even better.

You can imagine what his weight would feel like on you, how he'd taste.

It's addicting, honestly.

The words hit him harder than he was expecting and his eyes darken.

No more games. No more teasing, no more pretending.

He needs you. Needs to feel you.

And when those words leave your lips, everything in him snaps.

Dick presses forward with a low growl, his body now hovering over yours. He pushes your legs apart and settles his hips between them, both his hands gripping your waist now, like he's incapable of letting go.

"Please," he breathes against your mouth, his lips barely an inch from yours.

He maneuvers her so easily, so quickly you barely had any time to process the shift—the way he's now pressed between your thighs, his hands gripping your waist, his weight pressed against yours and pinning you against the couch.

His breath against your lips, and you’re gone.

He absolutely zaps any remaining rational thought, if there ever was any to begin with, leaving behind a blank space.

The way he says please instead of just going for it, or telling you to do it—it's pleading, desperate, and honestly the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard.

You glance to the side, just to check before immediately turning back to his face. Your hands come up and cup his jaw, thumbs pressed against the curve of his cheeks.

You close that remaining distance, crashing your lips together without any more thought behind it.

As soon as your lips touch his, everything explodes.

God, you’re beautiful. And soft. And so perfect pressed against him that it almost hurts.

All he can think is more.

He slants his mouth against yours, shifting his weight to one hand so his free one can slide into your hair, angling your head to fit him better. He swipes his tongue against your lower lip and groans at the taste.

He's never wanted anything more than he wants you.

He kisses like he's been starved it, touches you like he's a man going to war, and god—it's like a fucking firework show in your stomach.

The way he shifts you around, pulls and grabs until you’re perfect against him, their mouths moving together in sync.

And he tastes like heaven.

You’ve never been so consumed, so devoured, by someone. Not like this. Not like he'd die if you stopped, if he never got to taste your saliva or your lips again.

Your lips part when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, his groan tickling skin.

He's a drug and you’re addicted.

Your hands slide up from his jaw to his hair, fingers threading into the dark locks just behind his ears. Your legs rise slightly, locking around his hips to fit your body better against his on the sofa.

Losing yourself a bit in him, it's almost too easy to just let the feel of him take over.

Dick can't think, not with you pressing yourself against him like that.

You’re intoxicating, like sunshine in tangible form. Like pure honey against his tongue, and he can't get enough. If you’re the sun, then he's Icarus ready to fly too close to your fire.

He pulls you impossibly closer, his hand grasping your thigh now instead of your waist. He lifts his head just enough to speak—his voice is a wrecked rasp. He can't help but sound like he's desperate. "How quiet can you be?"

You almost whine when he pulls from your kiss, you’ve never been so consumed in something as simple as kissing but God.

Kissing him is like a whole new experience, it's like coming home to a man who loves you and wants to devour you to show it.

His grasp remains steadfast around your thigh, like he wants to keep you wrapped around him. It's a semi-grounding feeling as you catch the breaths he stole from your lungs, and also a reassurance he wasn't pulling away. Wasn't stopping.

Not yet at least.

His words make a shiver run up your spine and heat pool in your gut, you immediately know what he's getting at. It makes your lips twitch slightly as you smile a little, a slight quirk at the corner of your mouth.

"Pretty quiet." You mumble, you learn how to be quiet with parents like yours.

And that's the right answer.

Dick lets out a low, guttural moan, his fingers digging into your thigh harder at the thought of trying to keep you silent.

There's a lot of ways he wants to touch you first. A lot of ways he wants to draw it out, listen to you whimper and mewl for every touch.

But the fact that you know just makes him feral, makes his body vibrate with the need to take you.

"Good," he hisses, nipping at your lower lip. "Because you're gonna need to be."

That low moan that left him, too quiet for anyone but you to catch, makes a shudder run through your body because he sounds so delectable.

You want to hear what other noises he'd make, you want to watch him crumble because of you, because of what you can do to him.

You breathe out through your nose when he nips your lower lip, heat pooling in your belly almost instantly. He's so effortlessly sexy, it's almost unfair. He doesn't even seem like he's trying and he's already basically made your panties useless for any future use.

And, God, you want to indulge and give into him here. Right now, however he wants, because it sounds like the best fucking thing ever.

But you’re in the living room, parents in the kitchen. Bad idea.

"Bathroom, they'll think I went up to bed." You murmur, barely strung together.

The fact that you already sound so wrecked by nothing more than a few kisses and a touch to your thigh goes straight to his ego. He wants to hear how loud he can make you when he gets you beneath him.

But then you’re muttering something about parents and a bathroom and he's suddenly on his feet, pulling you up and into his arms in seconds.

He's walking before you’ve even finished the statement, his hand gripping your ass as he carries you down the hallway and into the bathroom.

You have to actively fight not to giggle like a maniac when he's suddenly lifted you into his arms, holding you up as he makes his way to the bathroom without a word.

His hand gripping your ass is a nice little addition, makes you feel giddy and hot all at the same time.

You drop your head, arms around his shoulders as you kiss his neck, along the hollow of his throat.

Taking full advantage of the position he's holding you in.

You bite and suck at his neck until pink marks appear—not going further because it's too risky to leave long term marks.

You can feel his pulse beneath your tongue, beating fast and hard—you want to bite it, feel it stutter against your mouth. His skin tastes like sweat and something addicting.

Your hands slide up and into the hair at the back of his head, fingers grasping the soft strands.

The feeling of your teeth and the suction of your mouth on his neck has him clenching his jaw hard to suppress an embarrassingly loud moan.

He has to stop for a moment once he's through the door, closing it softly behind them and dropping you on the counter so he can step between your legs again.

He shoves his face into your neck, biting at the soft skin of your throat, making sure to leave no more than a faint hint of redness at your pulse point.

"How bad do you want me, sweetheart?" He asks, the words whispered against your skin.

Your eyes are slipping shut when his mouth is on your neck, giving you the same treatment that you'd sweetly tortured him with. And God it feels so good. Your fingers tighten in his hair as your head drops back to give him more access, locking your ankles against his back.

His whispered words tickled your skin and sent a jolt of heat between your legs, he's so unbelievably attractive it's so unfair.

Those gorgeous blue eyes being eaten up by his pupils all because of you, those lips kiss-bruised, his heart racing for you.

It's all so mesmerizing.

"So bad," you mumble, opening your eyes to look at him. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging slightly. "I want you so badly." Your voice is a little breathy, your legs pulling him closer.

He's like a drug you’re already gone for, that you never want to be sober of.

Fuck, the way you look at him right now, all flushed and needy with his hair in your hands... he's fucking ruined.

Before you can even finish your sentence, his mouth crashes down on yours in a brutal, claiming kiss as he starts fumbling with the button of his jeans.

It's almost too thrilling, knowing how much you’ve affected him—how much you can affect him. You’re only a woman, and to know you’ve got a man like him—older, experienced, could and has had any woman he wants—down, metaphorically, on his knees for you. It's addicting.

You drop a hand from his hair when he kisses you again, looping an arm around his shoulders to hold him closer to you. The sound of him fumbling with his jeans makes your skin tingle and your stomach pool with heat.

Anticipation, excitement, and arousal all mixing together into one heady feeling in your body.

Your free hand drops down to hike your dress up over your hips for him.

Feeling your dress ride up sends a fucking surge of adrenaline through him. He groans into your mouth as his fingers finally manage to undo his jeans, shoving them down just enough to free himself.

He breaks the kiss, breathing hard as he grabs your hips and yanks you to the very edge of the counter.

The way he just manhandles you with enough gentleness to belay the ease in how he moves your body like you weigh nothing, is sexy as all hell. His heavy breathing against your mouth is nearly just as hot, how desperate it feels. How desperate he seems to be just to have you.

It's one of the most attractive things you’ve gone through.

You bring your other hand down to tug your panties down your legs, briefly dropping your legs off his hips to remove the fabric. You drop it to the floor, locking your legs back around him.

One of your hands grabs the side of the counter and the other goes to grasp onto his bicep.

Seeing you so eager and ready for him has his cock throbbing. He can feel the heat radiating from you, and it's driving him wild. He leans back just enough to line himself up with your entrance, his voice a low groan as he asks, "You sure about this, sweetheart?"

You’ve had sex before, plenty of times. But you’ve never wanted to fuck someone so badly before, it feels like you might burst if you don't.

The heat in your body, the thudding of your heart, and how good it feels just to have that anticipation building from him being lined up and just so close to giving you what you want.

Your gaze turns up to his at his question, the groan in his voice, how earnest yet desperate he looks. God, you’re never giving that up after this.

"I'm sure, please." You mumble, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. Gentle and slow.

The kiss is sweet and gentle, unlike the rest of the situation. It's a stark contrast that somehow only heightens his arousal. He groans into your mouth as you pull away, his eyes locking onto yours. Without another word, he pushes inside of you, slow and steady until he's buried to the hilt.

You moan softly as he pushed inside, your head dropping to his shoulder. The stretch is phenomenal, and the way he fills you completely—kissing your cervix and brushing against all sorts of nerves.

Sex is fun, good, but this? This is something else entirely and it feels so much better.

Your hand on the counter moves up to his side, just below his ribs, feeling his muscles tense and loosen. One of your legs slides down his hip slightly as the other hikes higher up, trying to stay grounded in the moment but it's like he's consuming all your senses.

Surrounding you in the best of ways. The scent of his sweat and cologne, the touch of his skin against yours, the fullness of him inside you.

Dick can feel your moans vibrating against his shoulder, and it's the sexiest fucking thing. He starts to move, slow and deep, each thrust designed to hit that spot inside you that makes you gasp.

His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he begins to pick up the pace.

Your moans pick up slightly, muffled enough against his shoulder to be mostly smothered. He feels so good, it's like experiencing it all over for the first time again—being fucked. Except you’re not even sure if that's the right word, fucking is rough and fast and everything unemotional.

This feels too real to be something unfeeling.

His thrusts are deep and deliberate, like he knows your body already even having never touched you before now. It's slow and sensual like he wants to savor you, hold onto you. And you find yourself wanting that same thing.

"God," you groan softly, your hips rocking with his thrusts despite his hold on you.

He can feel you moving with him, your body molding to his like they were made for each other. It's overwhelming how good this feels, how right it feels.

His hands slide up your hips to your waist, pulling you even closer as he leans in and buries his face in your neck. He can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. "Fuck."

Your hand on his arm moved up to wrap around his shoulders when he pulled you closer and buried his face against your neck. You can feel his breaths hot against your skin, every soft groan and curse vibrating against your neck.

You moan against his shoulder, a slow pressure building in your stomach as every thrust of his hips hits against buzzing nerves like he's some kind of skilled marksmen.

It's so slow, so sensual, languid and yet it feels like you’re one stroke away from coming undone completely.

Your hand on his side slides down to his hip, feeling the muscles contract at his slow thrusts, your fingers curling slightly against his skin.

Feeling your fingers curl into his hip sends a jolt of pleasure down his spine. He lifts his head just enough to capture your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss as he suddenly snaps his hips forward, hitting that spot inside you with perfect precision. 

The kiss caught you off guard but you’d melted into it not a second later, meeting his hunger with your own. You moan deeply against his mouth when he hits that perfect mark inside you—heat pooling and spreading through your skin, pulse starting to speed up and throb in your cunt.

He breaks the kiss to croon against your lips, "You gonna come for me like this, sweetheart?"

Your breaths are heavy when he broke your kiss, those soft words murmured against your lips and the way he's fucking you has your brain going to mush. It's so good, so deep, so... god, just everything. He's everything.

"Yes, yes. Fuck—" you moan brokenly, that pressure finally snapping as your orgasm washes over you. Your thighs shaking and inner walls spasming.

Hearing you moan and feeling the way your body clenches around him is almost too much. He groans deeply, his thrusts becoming more urgent but still maintaining that deep, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, yes," he murmurs against your lips, feeling his own orgasm building rapidly. "Just like that, sweetheart."

You moan as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, legs trembling around his hips. Your eyes roll back slightly before shutting, the way his thrusts shift slightly, still deep and deliberate but he's chasing his own finish now too.

The sensitivity sets in and it feels so good, it has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. Each drag and push of his cock inside you, amplified by your orgasming, has your body trembling a little.

Your cunt contracts in pulses around him, like it wants to keep him there. Your fingers dig into his skin as your head drops back against his shoulder again.

He watches you fall apart, completely lost in pleasure. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

His control finally snaps as your pulsing walls drag along his length. With a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his hips jerking as he comes hard inside you.

You moan deeply, your own hips jerking slightly when that searing warmth spreads through your cunt and lower belly, his come filling you up. And god, it feels just as good.

Your legs tighten around his hips, pulling him close like you want to keep him there before the energy leaves you and your legs slip off him. You lean your body against his as he slowly grows soft inside you, still pulsing come into you.

You press a trail of light, sweet kisses along the column of his throat slowly before finding his mouth and pressing your lips together in a lazy, albeit sensual kiss.

Dick kisses you back deeply, savoring the sweetness of your lips. His hands slide up to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he continues to kiss you slowly.

He can feel his softening dick slipping out of you, replaced by a warm gush of his come leaking out.

It's all warmth, fullness mixed with emptiness—his come keeps you nice and stuffed but the absence of his cock is definitely felt. It's a little unfortunate, you'd have settled to have him inside for a little longer.

But it's not like this is normal circumstances. But you’re definitely not letting this be the only time. You’re pretty sure he's shifted something in you, for you.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?" He croons gently, leaning over you to turn on the faucet to your left, holding you to him still—his fingers trailing up and down your spine.

[all-pacas]

basically the original trio are all foils of house and aspects of him in pretty obvious and intentional ways, right? so it's not wrong to say that any of the group are "like house." they are supposed to be. they reflect him and their differences also reflect on him. (this is a format that worked so well that the second trio are essentially all remixes of the first group; they are less foils to house because they seem more like responses to the first group, but that in itself is a fascinating and separate discussion.)

FOREMAN is pretty obvious. he is house's intelligence and logical nature and drive. he is cold and calculating and driven, but also share's house inferiority complex: house's first lines in the series are about how he hates to be stared at and judged by his looks; foreman's struggles as a Black man in a very white and wealthy world are integral to his character. they are both outsiders, they are both judged and dismissed, they are both highly intelligent and logical, arrogant and stubborn. house almost immediately latches onto foreman as a favorite in s1, mentoring and pushing him like he doesn't the others: foreman has always been highlighted as the most like house, and it's interesting too how many of foreman's qualities (rising above the perceptions of others, his incredible intelligence, his stubbornness and willingness to fight for his beliefs) are i think the traits house most admires in himself. it's interesting too how in some ways foreman is "better" at them than house: house is notoriously prone to losing his much touted logic and acting emotionally and losing his temper; foreman is really a bastion of self control.

CAMERON really doesn't get the credit she deserves for how like house she is. the morality is obvious: house's morals don't often align with the law, but that he has strong beliefs and both acts on them and pushes them onto others is very much shared with cameron. she is surprisingly impulsive and hot-headed, much like house is: she is prone to acting based on how she feels in the moment without really thinking about consequences, whether that be "running away from an emotionally fraught situation" or "blurting out to a patient he's terrible for leaving his wife." cameron's love for the puzzles and mystery of diagnostics is highlighted a few times, and while that can seem kind of arbitrarily, it really does make sense: like house, she is all about picking people apart, trying to understand them, trying to figure them out. she is nosy and pushy and interfering: so is house. she cares intensely: so does house. this gives their dynamic something of a push and pull: house seems to appreciate her and their shared (and frequent) moralistic debates, until she turns it onto him and tries to puzzle him out. i do not think house sees himself in her as he does foreman -- foreman is more obvious reflection -- but it's interesting how quickly house starts deferring to cameron's judgement and seeking out her emotional advice.

CHASE... exists. chase is an interesting case, because on the surface (as i've talked about before), he and house really aren't that much alike. chase is social and relatively outgoing, if shallowly so: he is unambitious and a bit of a slacker, manipulative instead of aggressive, and backs down from every fight. he doesn't often express opinions or show strong beliefs. in fact, chase's more negative traits are the ones he has most in common with house: they are both self-centered, and self-serving, choosing their own wellbeing over others. they can be manipulative and passive aggressive. cold and closed off and risk adverse. chase is also the only one of the team house didn't choose to hire: he was thrust upon him from on high. to me, chase isn't a foil to house but a mirror: they share similar backgrounds, similar life trajectories. we see chase's life imitate house's, brief limp and all, as the series goes on: chase is the house of the past, outgoing and athletic and slowly worn into cynicism and isolation. chase is blatantly the one house has the least interest in for much of the show: it is not that he seems to dislike chase particularly -- in fact, they get along surprisingly well and chase is very good at asking for and receiving honest answers from house when he wants them. but if chase embodies house's least loveable traits, he also is more open to overcoming them: he does open up to others, he does connect emotionally, he does still openly need and want and show that he can change. if foreman is who house admires, and cameron is his emotions and morality, chase is house, twenty years younger, living the same life again and hopefully, maybe, better.

[whywhywhymoney]

What everyone ALWAYS gets wrong about Maggie Kyle

For a character with very few appearances (and only 3 of them as the incredibly mischaracterised Sister Zero), the amount of bad faith takes and practical vitriol that gets thrown Maggie's way is really surprising. She's a very interesting character and foil for Selina which is why competent writers for Catwoman keep coming back to her! I feel like I want to clear up some of the major misconceptions that I've seen by doing a bit of a deep dive using mostly her debut appearance:

She's sanctimonious/holier-than-thou.

This couldn't be further from the truth! It makes me think that people don't actually read her appearances, just look at the nun habit and come up with an idea of what they think a foil to Selina should be like (pious, virtuous, dependent, frumpy).

Catwoman (1989)

She's actually very much an idealist, and doesn't give up on the people she loves. In her first lines of dialogue she's shown here cutting an elder nun down to size because Maggie won't take any criticism of/for her prayers for Selina.

Catwoman (1989)

You see her directly telling a cop that she doesn't care if she gets arrested, and the language she uses clearly emphasises that she doesn't have anything against sex workers (we even see her talking to some later when she's trying to find Selina; everyone's very respectful to each other).

Maggie crucially does not think she's above anyone, and she doesn't think she's above behaviour that others feel is beneath her ("Or you'd arrest me for soliciting... Book me, Danno").

If you can accuse Maggie of anything here it's naivety - that by virtue of being a nun she's protected from violence - but she's also literally a teenager here too.

Throughout these panels she's constantly being patronised and slightly belittled by authority figures - and absolutely refuses to give into them and pushes back every time. This is just ONE of the MANY traits Maggie and Selina share, but like so many of their similarities, it becomes a difference because of how those traits present themselves in both girls (and they're both literally just girls here, no more than 17-19).

I assume this misconception can come about from the way Selina talks about Maggie very early on -

Catwoman (1993) #5

She's abrupt and distant and wants nothing to do with her - not because of anything Maggie did but because Selina feels it's the best way to keep her safe. Selina pushing people away/leaving them for their sakes is nothing new, and she's done it to Maggie first/ the longest, its sort of a default setting for their early relationship.

Part of it may also be some sort of resentment regarding how both of their lives turned out, but that's probably buried so deep that by the time it does crop up in Catwoman (2002), both of them acknowledge that they're way beyond that.

She's timid/weak.

Again, a lot of these misconceptions stem purely from 2 things:

Thinking Maggie is the total antithesis of Selina

The stereotypical image of a nun/religious person

While obviously not as physically capable as Selina and Holly, that doesn't stop her from being a badass in her own right. There's plenty of panels that show how much of a backbone Maggie has, and you can even see it above. The girl is not timid!

Catwoman (1989)

But in a literal life or death situation, when even Selina thinks Maggie's dead (Stan has thrown her off a platform), she actually managed to grab onto a railing and is later saved by Batman. The near death experience doesn't stop her from standing up to Selina's actions too.

If this exchange reads as "sanctimonious" to readers, well fine. Selina feels that way. What it really is supposed to highlight is that neither sister is wrong, just how their different worldview's affect their dealings with the world - in fact, we watch all this from Selina's POV, so we naturally favour her perspective. That same stubbornness and desperation to survive persists in Maggie just the same as it does in her sister. Again, it just expresses itself differently.

In fact, out of all characters, it's STAN who correctly assesses just how similar Maggie and Selina are, in his own twisted way. Maggie's been holed up alone with Stan - a known abuser and rapist - for at least a couple days by this point, and the way she refuses to engage with him is a parellel of how Selina refused to engage with the police right at the start of this story.

Catwoman (1989)

She's not timid and she's CERTAINLY not weak. Just as Selina won't give up any information about Maggie, Maggie spends the latter half of the comic doing the same thing.

Over and over again we see Maggie as the one who's not afraid to stand up to the one's she loves, and the one who feels more secure in their relationship, and in general the one who is actually the LESS likely to give into her emotions the way Selina can do on occasions.

Catwoman (1989)

You can see it right here, in the aftermath of Maggie's kidnapping. Selina expects her to be a mess, and Maggie's just quipping through the whole time. She doesn't hold back at all from letting Selina know exactly what she went through, and she can be JUST as bitter (and has a right to be) about what hand life dealt her as Selina is. It's Selina who's wracked with emotion, and it's Maggie who lets her know in no uncertain way that she's not a killer.

It's fairly interesting to note - Maggie and Selina both have the same tendency towards self-destruction when they hit rock bottom. But I think Maria's suicide has taken that "conventional" option away from both of them.

And now for some general observations on Maggie and her relationship with Selina:

They both possess the same capacity for empathy and caring - whereas Selina cares SO much about a select circle of people and empathises endlessly with people in difficult situations, Maggie doesn't put a limit on who to care about. Neither of them are wrong, they're just different. This trait in Maggie might have changed as we haven't seen a whole lot of her as a functional person post-Relentless though (and I think from the snippet we see in One Bad Day, she has).

They do look very similar, and this is highlighted more in Catwoman (1989), but their colouring is different, especially later on when Maggie has more lighter brown/reddish-brown hair. Once again, the eerie similarities just make the contrasts strike that little bit harder.

Maggie canonically did get her Psychology degree - and it's something that completely works with her already established character! I can completely see her in a role that strives to make life better for others, in the same way Selina strives to make life better for the East End.

There's always varying levels of friction between her and Selina, and there probably always will be. That does NOT mean they cannot stand each other. It just means they have a very complex and layered relationship, and clashes often happen between people who are pretty similar in certain ways. They still love each other fiercely and never stop caring about each other.

When it comes to religion, I'm going to let these panels speak for themselves. What I will say is I think both must have had a healthy grounding about it in their childhood, as Selina never sounds particularly resentful against the Church.

Catwoman (1993) #5

Gotham City Sirens (2009) #22

The undercurrent between both of their attitudes is towards religion, life and each other is empathy, a lack of judgement, and a fierce determination to love and live IN SPITE of constantly hitting drawbacks. Those core traits are inherent to both of them, I really do believe it.

And that's that on Magdalene Kyle!

[goo34ter]

Take The Bridge Back to Me

short series that takes place during season one of Arcane when Viktor begins to become consumed with discovering the mystery of the Hex Core. where you, the reader ,worry for his health but also the path he is paving, trying time and time again to extend an olive branch of desire asking him to slow down and step back.

An argument ensues when emotions come to a head, but we center around the aftermath and self discovery that follows the storm. Slowly but surely you gravitate towards one another once more, like a binary star system and unescapable orbiting, walking the delicate bridge back to one another.

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

Damaged Buttresses

The night of your unwarranted fight with Viktor did not aid in your ever present and recent struggle with sleep. Only adding to the plethora of reasons you should be awake, mind swarming with guilty phrases, accusing you of being horrible and venomous. Then your mind wormed a thought so devastating after your fight, that you believed you were the worst person to walk Runeterra." Will I ever see his figure full of life again? Will the next time I see him be in a hospital bed? Will he die with my venomous words and sour accusations in his mind?” The coming few days after didn't fair smoothly either, brain addled with guilt and worry, but heart too stubborn and broken to be the first to reach out, but nor did Viktor. You had suspected as much, that a man with such pride and perseverance as himself, Viktor would elongate your time apart. Stewing on his emotions, blinding himself with work as a repercussion. But was it such a repercussion when it was his obsession? His sustenance for life, his reason for living? 

Perhaps, such a love for science and machines has delved into that of an obsession, all consuming and devouring, festering in the brain, tempting and itching till relief comes in the form of answers and discoveries. But what lengths does he go to quell the bubbling urges? Will he leave a bloody trail sodden with not only his own but the people’s around him? Will there be anything left once he decides it's enough, that he is satiated and full. Will he ever be satisfied? With so many unanswered questions you can't help but think there's more harm than good with the road he's chosen to walk. But sacrifices must be made for the efforts of success and progress, simply, they should not be the livelihood and health of the man you love. 

By the time you've racked up such a list of unanswered questions you have reached the third day with no contact with Viktor, both parties riddled with avoidance and a wounded pride, raw with vulnerability, emotions laid bare on the table for each other to examine, to scrutinize. Yet your each passing thought is of the Man, always circling back,;to the hurt in his eyes when you insulted his pride, the angry slam of his cane, his shock when you screamed your concerns. 

He's never seen you so angry, you realize, always practicing the action of letting emotions wash over you to remain steady with honesty passionately, rather than angrily. His reactions to your words may not have simply been because they upset him, but because this uncategorized eruption of an emotion was thrown in his face, leaving him unprepared while already riddled with exhaustion and fatigue. Despite his many ethereal traits and capabilities, he is human too, and possesses the fragility of the human heart, so easily wounded.

As you think about this man, so deeply affected by his soul, the third night without him, you stand in the small kitchen of your one shared apartment. Gaze occasionally shifting to the worn down couch in the living area, expecting a familiar figure to be stretched out along its cushions, lazily poised while reading a book or jotting down thoughts. Yet, each glance is only met with the emptiness of the couch cushions bare of any figure or weight, merely an outline of what should be. shifting your body weight to your left, hip jutting out to support your shift of balance as you stand, It's evening, you realize, the day seemed to slip through your grasp so effortlessly the remembrance of work seems more like a feverish dream rather than reality.

Similarly, Viktor had been struggling along the three days since your painful dispute. The first night when he had left, he had wanted to open the bedroom door, kneel at your feet and hug your knees, pleading for forgiveness, a crumb of salvation to his tormented and overworked mind. Viktor is no fool, but has many flaws, much like the rest of mankind he too possesses the ability of incapability. He can become consumed, in thought, in work, in wonder, in discovery, and in creation, that it widdles him down to nothing; leaving you to pick up the pieces and build him up from the skeleton he has left behind. A habit he deems, though, it is more a trait. It's not like the clicking of your heels before leaving home, or twirling of hair as you think, more embedded within his soul, hard to shake as it is part of him. Yet, he is capable of reflection, though you have so colorfully informed him he does no such thing; Reflecting on his actions towards you and himself he can observe where his errors lay. 

The Hexcore has consumed him, his thoughts, his time, and his attention, leaving nothing for you in return. He’s close to a discovery he knows, but it's as if the moment he solves one puzzle the Hexcore presents him with another, so tempting like a juicy steak after months of starvation, he cannot resist himself. Temptation made obsession he realizes, instead of simply being tempted to discover the possibilities of the Hex Core, what he might be able to achieve, what it might lead them to do, he has allowed himself to obsess over its every capability. But you had been wrong too, very little of his health did you know about, he made sure of that. He is the one in his body, aware of its deterioration, does not need the person he loves most pointing out something so plainly obvious. Oh but he kept you in the dark about his health. He simply wanted to bask in ignorance a little while longer, pretend his health wasn't an issue, coming home to you after a long night at work like a dog deserving of treat.Though if you pushed a little more, inquired a few more times, Viktor would have taken you with him to his next visit. Allowed the Doctors to lay out every unfixable ailment, finally allowing you to bear witness to the ugly truth.

Through thought, Viktor leans to his right, seated at his desk in the laboratory, Hex core in his peripheral. He assumes the position of the thinker, resting his elbow on the table instead of knee, the damn joint never seems to stop aching these days, much like the rest of him. He glares, not at anything in particular, but glares none the less. Frustration needing somewhere to escape, somewhere to be expressed. The only action he can think of that uses the least amount of energy is the knotting of brows and an intense stare. Then when an ache forms between his brows, he shifts his focus to the papers in his line of sight, eyes straining to read equations and diagrams. When had it become so hard to see? Ah, its evening, room no longer lit by the harsh sun, instead what little light produced by distant terrestrial bodies bleeds in languidly. Like they're not in a hurry to provide him with the ability to see, unlike the sun that seems ever eager to provide him with sight.

What must be done to right his wrongs? Leave the hexcore behind sure, but he's so close to discovering how it can rejuvenate life, it could be utilized for so much more, to heal disease, injury, himself. He can't stop now. But then there's you, sweet decadent you, deserving of the world, laid on a golden platter for your every whim and plea. He can't split himself in two, though at this moment he wishes he could. Sending his better half to your door and embracing your figure with a reverence to make even the gods jealous. No, what would he say to you? He needs more time to think, to reflect, to formulate the correct phrase of words that would soothe a balm over your broken heart. One more day over obsessing on the Hex core couldn't hurt.

 But as Viktor works, he finds himself more focused on you, your scream of what could almost be described as agony during the argument, the fisting of your lovely hair he's sure hurt and stung like venom. What would he say? Very few times has he found it hard to find phrases, oftentimes having to shorten their length or hold his tongue. But now, he finds himself lost in how to begin, in where to start, maybe actions are better? But then what would he do, how would he do it? Too many questions left unanswered, think, think! As if to mock him the Hexcore spins and pulses in a flurry of movements, as if responding to his inner turmoil. At this insulting reaction from the Hex Core, Viktor thinks back to the conversation he had with Jayce later this afternoon, and their disagreement with Hiemerdinger. The yordle had demanded they destroy the Hex Core, deeming it nothing more than a destructive bad omen for Piltover. Infuriating, how could someone as old as him see past the potential of such a device, what humanity could accomplish? But it was his selfish desires to continue living that made him more sour towards the professor. And it was with Jayce's urgings that led him to pull himself up from his desk, “do what you have to” the words rattled in his mind like an echoing voice in a cave with nowhere to go. He knew just the person to inquire about this struggle, now, understood the drive for blind pursuit. 

Love, and desperation. Truly an ugly mix.

[myfairstarlight]

Points of Convergence

AO3 Link.

Rated: E

Length: 11k

Pairing: meljayvik / melvik-centric

S1 setting

Summary:

“Sharing? I was not aware Jayce is a possession we had to discuss custody over,” Viktor says, his voice a slow drawl. “He is not,” she concedes, stirring her coffee. “But he rarely ever takes initiative, does he not? I simply want him happy, and he restrains himself because he thinks I would be offended and that you are uninterested.” Or. When Mel invited Viktor into her and Jayce’s relationship, she thought it was for Jayce—a gift, so to speak. She imagined herself and Viktor orbiting around their shared center with an unspoken agreement and careful balance. She underestimated her fascination with brilliant minds. Principles are challenged, dynamics shift and eventually, a new, unexpected kind of balance settles. A melvik-centric meljayvik fic.

*additional notes on ao3. Only an extract below the cut

If Mel had to be honest, she would have to say that she has always been fascinated by Viktor and has already tried once to entice him to her. A man from the Undercity, who did not let his bad leg and others’ dirty looks and snarky remarks prevent him from climbing into the good graces of the Head of the Council through his intellect and sheer determination? Mel saw a bit of herself in that, she who had to rebuild her life from nothing and managed to touch gold after years of hard labour— though the notoriety of her name helped as well. In those first few years after they met, she remembers spending more time at the Academy, asking the man if he had any project of his own, for she loved hearing him ramble about any topic that would catch his fancy. However, her interest was met with discomfort and apprehension.

It was nothing personal, at least, Mel hoped so. Viktor had, or rather, has, a natural distrust of anyone high-ranking in Piltover, and, if Mel had to guess in his position, he was wary that whatever project he may have in mind would no longer be his if shared with someone else. At the time, she had only just acquired a seat at the Council, and she was known to find any opportunity to create profit, so she supposes she cannot fault him for being suspicious of her intentions.

Viktor’s only exception to his distrust of the Council is Heimerdinger because of his contribution to science.

And even then, she has caught him often rolling his eyes behind the yordle’s back, or his hand twitching on the handle of his cane as if restraining himself.

Jayce did not help the matter. They instantly were both interested in the man, in differing ways she has to assume. At first, there was no romantic interest on her part, just curiosity and, of course, in Hextech, the way to make the city prosper.

(Some things indeed do not change.)

With Viktor's poor excuse of trying to find his way to his bedroom when she caught him and Jayce trying to sneak into Heimerdinger’s lab, she had assumed Viktor, with his self-assurance and reputation, back then, would not waste time, and soon these two partners would be just that, and more.

That did not happen, to her grand surprise.

Instead, Jayce found his way to her arms.

Entering a romantic relationship was never in her plan, but she was aware of the attraction Jayce felt for her, and she figured, one evening, that it would be pointless to deny them both some fun.

Well.

Who was she kidding? It was never about having some fun, it was about finding in Jayce a constant source of warmth and comfort she has chased all her life. It was not long before passive interest turned into devotion, and the man met her love — her intensity — in earnest.

And Mel… Well, she can be rather stubborn and competitive. A family trait she could never truly shake. Viktor, on the other hand, is not a fighter, or perhaps he did not care as much about romantic entanglements, too focused on his work. He saw the way her touches kept lingering on Jayce’s arms in those first few months and simply looked away.

You can have him. An unspoken agreement. So Mel listened.

Of course, this failed to include Jayce’s agency in the matter. She never doubted that he chose her out of affection and not because she was the “only option”, so to speak, but even as their relationship grew, he always kept the other half of his heart for his partner. It never bothered Mel. Jayce is an attentive and affectionate lover and never made her feel lesser in his life than Viktor. He loved them both and was not ashamed of it, though he swore his loyalty to her. Supposedly because Viktor is not interested anyway, he said, and Mel laughed.

So that is how she finds herself at the coffee shop near Jayce’s and Viktor’s lab, sharing a warm drink with the latter.

(They rarely ever find themselves alone; the only reason they are at the moment is because Mel enlisted Ximena’s help, who pretended to need help at home from her son. Convincing Viktor to take a break was surprisingly easy as soon as she promised to buy him any sweets he’d want with the drinks.

Jayce once told her he was annoyingly stubborn about work. Maybe he’s just bad at negotiating. Or Viktor purposely messes with him.)

“Sharing? I was not aware Jayce is a possession we had to discuss custody over,” Viktor says, his voice a slow drawl.

“He is not,” she concedes, stirring her coffee. “But he rarely ever takes initiative, does he not? I simply want him happy, and he restrains himself because he thinks I would be offended and that you are uninterested.”

Viktor’s lips twitch before he scoffs. “I am uninterested.”

“Your lies will not work as well on me, Viktor.”

He scoffs again. “I do not have the time,” he settles for saying.

“That is not the same thing as being uninterested.”

“Councillor—”

“Mel.”

“Mel,” he amends. It makes her smile. “There is a reason I do not allow myself this and did not, eh, how do you say it? Make a move, back then. Not that I believe it would have changed anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“My time here is limited. It would be unfair.”

Mel frowns, trying to understand. “Do you intend to go back to the Undercity?”

Viktor almost looks amused now. “No.”

Ah.

Mel looks at him. Truly looks at him. “Your pain has worsened, hasn’t it?” It isn’t a question, so Viktor shrugs.

“So, as you must understand—”

“I know incredible healers from Noxus who still owe me favours.”

“Mel—”

“And— even if that does not work, why take the choice away from Jayce? However limited your time may be, you know he will cherish every moment. Everyone dies eventually, it does not stop any of us.”

Viktor scoffs, but it’s weaker now. “Spare me that condescending thought.” She winces just a little at the disdain in his voice. “What Jayce and I have is enough. The more involved we may get, the more it may hurt him once I’m gone.”

“You underestimate yourself. Whether you cross that line or not, you will be the presence in the wind haunting him. You might as well indulge, should you not?”

“Flattering. But in this configuration, he has you. He will be alright.”

This man has no self-esteem, she realises then. And something within her stirs.

“That does not matter because one is not replaceable.”

“Says the politician.” She gives a wry smile at his retort. “He will have to get over it, eventually.”

“He will not,” she assures.

“That should bother you, then.”

She shakes her head. “Viktor. Let me help.”

He sighs. “It’s not worth—”

She interrupts him, grabbing his hands with fervour. “It is worth much more than you can ever believe.”

At that moment, she was not exactly sure if she was doing it solely for Jayce or if a part of her had started to care for the stubborn man.

── .𐀔. ── .𐀔. ──

They forget to inform Jayce of their agreement, though Mel suspects Viktor kept silent willingly because he loves to see Jayce squirm— which she understands. Whenever she visits the lab now, Viktor sits purposely closer to Jayce, lets his touch linger, his voice has a lower, almost seductive timber to it when he speaks, and she can see Jayce visibly restraining himself.

Out of respect, out of loyalty, out of love. Mel reaps the benefits in the night as Jayce lets all his frustration out as she welcomes him between her arms. But how cruel it is to deprive him of more.

One day, she decides to give him some mercy. However, she surprises herself with how.

It is on a quiet morning, and her heels click loudly against the floor of the lab as she makes her way towards the pair. They do not bother to look up; they know her footsteps by heart and they are far too engrossed in whatever equation is keeping their mind occupied. So, she simply sits on Jayce’s lap once she is close enough, who naturally lets her without looking up from his notes— and then she hooks her foot below Viktor’s stool, bringing him closer. Viktor yelps, almost falling at the sudden motion, and she feels Jayce inhale sharply, a reprimand on the tip of his tongue, she knows, but then she grabs the Zaunite’s face and kisses him.

Jayce’s inhale is of a much different nature now, and his hands tighten around her waist, unsure of what to do but surely enjoying the view.

To her delight, Viktor catches on fast, his chapped lips curling into a smile against hers before he returns the kiss. They keep it chaste, a simple press of the lips lazily moving together, though it takes everything in Mel to not go further at Viktor’s quiet whines.

How is he allowed to sound like that from a simple kiss—

Viktor is the first to pull away, but Mel doesn’t let go yet, dropping another kiss on the mole right above his lips as their eyes meet. Gold eyes shine with mischief as they flicker between her and the man right behind her, breathing quite heavily now.

And then, Jayce finally speaks. “Hey, unfair, why did you get to kiss him before me?!”

Neither answers, laughing instead.

(And when Mel leaves and closes the door behind her, she hears Viktor yelp, followed by a dull thud and chalk falling to the floor. She makes a note that she and Jayce may need to stop startling Viktor as such, lest he dies of a heart attack rather than failing lungs.)

Continue reading here.

[apriciticreveries]

( cough cough ) officially introducing and revealing her and her final design, zhuli ! ! ( @alien-til-i-stage . . i offer you . . my pookie to add to the list . . also . . @solei-eclipse . . new s40 character drop hey . . maybe she could be friends with jiu and they could bond over being sleep deprived ( lili also sleeps kinda weird . . like in a coffin burial type position haha ) and @aakaneeee, i hope you like her ! : 3 )

( i also apologize again in advance rock ( @rockwgooglyeyes ), she came out looking a lot more dull then expected . . : ‘ )

——————————————————————————————————

but yeagh . . she’s my main girlie for s40 . .

although this is how her appearance canonly is now, her accessories, and hairstyle ( not her uniform though ) aren’t actually set on the one that’s shown in particular ! everyone is free to draw her with different aspects to her appearance ! ( this is mainly due to the actual fact that zhuli often changes her appearance in different elements every day ! )

i won’t reveal too much about her right now, due to the combined facts of how, unlike aurien, i want a lot of her character to be unknown at first, with it being unveiled slowly .

the other reason is that im still figuring out her character and most of her lore . . but i think ill have a chance to ponder, actually find out, and reveal some of her lore if some people ask about it ehehe . .

ill list the profile and other official information down below !

name : zhuli

birth date : 2 / 4 ( aquarius )

age : 20

body : 172 cm ( 5 ‘ 6 ) / 62 kg ( 136 lbs )

affiliation : 40 th anakt garden

likes : [ unknown ]

dislikes : change, gossip, teasing, taunting, loudness, crowds, rudeness, lying ( especially her own ), hypocrisy, failure, bragging, pompousness, complaining, overexaggerating, loneliness

special talent : cataloguing and recording

( don’t mind how her likes aren’t even listed and are one word long while her dislikes are 4 lines long . . )

other notable information :

she actually has a condition called prosopagnosia, or face blindness, where you have trouble identifying and differentiating faces . because of this, she often identifies others with different aspects .

( which she notably first struggled at, being overwhelmed with all the others she would see )

and again,

she’s actually registered in anakt for training to be an announcer . as a result of this, she takes completely different classes then her peers, only sharing a small few . she also has a very different schedule from everyone else .

i imagine there are a few others supposed to be in training as well, but the group arent actually with eachother that much, and rarely see eachother .

because of these combining factors she is often isolated from the others, and known as a bit of a mystery to her classmates .

although she wants not to be, she’s extremely disconnected from her peers . when she does interact with others ( as rare as it is ), she often faces them with a reserved and aloof attitude .

though id say that so far, she is a generally quiet, reserved, sensitive ( which she refuses to show since she views it as a vulnerable and weak trait ), stubborn, and short tempered, but softhearted and gentle once you get to know her a lot more . i think the first established relationship for her so far, would be with atlas !

her guardian is named guardian qiran, who was gifted zhuli .

that’s all for now ehehehe

( please let me know on your and potentially your other character’s thoughts on my pookie . . everyone’s also free to ask questions about her, and others on this account, but i will make a side account for my 3 girlies in s40 soon though hehe

and random fact : i actually was planning on just making lili have normal skin, but the more I looked at it, the more she looked uncannily related to solei . . so i reverted it back to what i planned before .

and another fact . . since para motivated me to actually watch spirited away again, i was actually planning to make a character based off no - face .

before realizing that i unintentionally might have made aurien with a LOT of his traits already . . now i might draw auri as no - face . . ( or atleast with an appearance more similar to his ) spirited away au with maybe lang ( @pwippy / @its-langgg ) as haku, solei as chihiro, and aurien as no face . . or maybe swap auri and lang i don’t know . . )

( side note : is it me or do maya ( @cloverandstuff ), zhuli, yumi, and all kioku look vaguely related . . )

edit : oops she came out a bit like kyo ( @bluemoonscape) didn’t she

[nyastri]

Director's cut for Downfall but Make it Guanaco because it was really fun to write and I want to share some of the details that I put into it. This fic is about the downfall timeline being the equivalent of El Salvador.

~~~~~~~~~

Although Legend was "revealed" to be Salvadorian like Hyrule at the very end of the fic, there are a few hints I threw in before to show that Legend is also Salvadorian.

“Puchica, Rulie,” Legend muttered. “You’re stubborn. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”

Puchica is used in El Salvador as an expression like "jeez" or "shoot".

“Chanclas are terrifying,” Legend agreed. “But I’d argue cinchos are worse.”

The proper term for belt is "cinturón" but it's often shortened to cinto. However, in El Salvador, cincho is said instead of cinto.

Hyrule kneeled in front of him and used his lips to point at the captain’s irritated skin.

[...] “Hey! Wind insisted on following me. Said he wanted to see the town,” the veteran explained and pointed with his lips at their youngest brother.

Both Hyrule and Legend point at things with their lips, which is a habit that many latinos have.

The traveler smiled, “Yup! We’re best cheros.”

The Subrosian tilted her head, to which Legend clarified, “Best friends. We’re best friends.”

Chero is a Salvadorian word that means close friend, and while the Subrosian (who speaks a different dialect of Spanish) doesn't understand what that word means, Legend immediately does and is able to explain to the Subrosian what it means.

~~~~~~~~~

Ok, now onto other fun facts about me writing this!

“ Chelito !” Hyrule said, laughing lightly while the veteran sputtered in protest.

Warriors frowned slightly, trying to decipher what chele meant. Was it an insult, somehow? Maybe it had something to do with skin, since that’s what the subject was before?

Chele refers to someone who is fair-skinned and generally blond, it's not an insult.

The veteran scoffed, “You’re one to talk, you know. You’re barely trigueño . [...] you’re blondish! And you have colored eyes!”

Trigueño is someone who has lighter olive skin. I personally headcanon Hyrule with light olive skin, hazel eyes, and brownish blond hair. It's completely possible for a latino to have traits like this, and, along with Legend looking "white", I think it's a nice way to show how diverse a latino can look.

“Babosos,” Legend muttered, “We're surrounded by babosos. What paja is this?”

"Baboso" is like a way of saying "dummies", and in this context, Salvadorians use "paja" as the equivalent of "nonsense".

Legend snorted, “Cabal.”

Cabal basically means "exactly"

"Chanclas are definitely the scariest thing I’ve faced,” Hyrule finished.

“Chanclas are terrifying,” Legend agreed. “But I’d argue cinchos are worse.”

The traveler scoffed, “No, chanclas are the scariest. They can be thrown! Have you seen the aim some people have?”

“Okay, sure, but cinchos are long range too!”

I feel like chanclas are generally used by moms, while cinchos (belts) are generally used by dads. Since Hyrule was disciplined by Impa, she would use a chancla on him. But since Legend was raised by his uncle, he would use a belt on him. That's why Hyrule is most scared of a chancla while Legend is most scared of a belt.

Wind had to admit that Wild’s era was colder than he was used to, but it was bearable. Even though he was used to tropical heat, he had enough experience with cold ocean breezes that he wasn’t completely unprepared for cooler weather as the group walked through Hyrule Field.

But the same could not be said about Hyrule.

I specifically chose Wind for this passage because I wanted someone who would be more affected by "chilly" weather than the others but wouldn't react as strongly as Hyrule did. I based Wind's era off of Hawaii, and when I looked into Hawaii's weather, I noticed that it can have a bit of cool weather but is still generally warm (sorry if I'm wrong about that), so I figured Wind would be perfect.

Even Wind, who was the most used to humid weather, wasn't fairing as well as the veteran. The sailor was nowhere as badly affected as the others, but he still had to roll up his long sleeves despite having one of the lightest outfits.

This paragraph is from later in the fic, when the chain is in Hyrule's era and everyone except for Hyrule and Legend are suffering from the intense heat. Following what I was saying about weather in Hawaii, while it can be hot and humid there, it's not as hot and humid as El Salvador (once again, sorry if I'm wrong about that). So while Wind is mostly fine, he can definitely still feel the affects of the heat.

After another ten or so minutes of walking, Sky had nearly passed out twice. His vision was getting blurry and he doubted he was walking straight considering how dizzy he felt. When he looked at Wild, he saw that the champion wasn’t doing well either. He kept almost-falling and his tunic was thoroughly soaked in sweat.

This paragraph again takes place when the chain is in Hyrule's era. Sky lives in, well, the sky, an extremely cold place, so he has never experienced humidity and in general doesn't handle heat well. As for Wild, he's one of the only members of the chain who has experienced humid heat because of his Faron region, which is tropical jungle. However, scars don't sweat, and considering half Wild's body is covered in scars, he is at a much higher risk of heat stroke and thus is one of the most affected by the heat. Thank you Mel for that tip!

“My era is really hot,” [Hyrule] explained. “Something about the equator, I think. It never gets this cold.”

Hyrule isn't the best educated, and although one of his Zeldas probably told him, he kind of forgets. Who has time to remember geography when you can learn sword fighting instead?

“Now, we separate the masa into balls. Then we poke a hole in them and stuff it with the cheese and beans and flatten it.”

Hyrule demonstrated the technique, although when he flattened the dough some of the stuffing fell out. He let out a sheepish laugh and glanced at Wild.

[...] Some of the stuffing fell out of several of the pupusas (the ones made by Hyrule, specifically)

Here I'm just feeding the "Hyrule can't cook" agenda, lol

~~~~~~~~~

This was a really fun fic to write! Hope you guys enjoyed reading about my thought process.

@starwolfie Thank you for the Wild suggestion!

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ the instigator reaper. ﹚:  zhào hǎitāo 9948e .𖹭 ݁

. . . come on feel the love, like a sinner !! 🍒 : “ corpse spouse beloved, how’d you like your tea today? ”

꒰ verse ꒱ 9948e

꒰ species ꒱ grim reaper

꒰ ethnicity ꒱ chinese

꒰ age ꒱ 25

꒰ gender ꒱ trans male

꒰ mbti ꒱ entp

꒰ alias ꒱ the midday orchid ( family name ), the creepy mortician down the road, mourner’s chuckle, undertaker of the nocturne.

꒰ story ꒱ 

among sarcophaguses, coffins and caskets and all the melancholy of the usual morturary. looms a tall figure, a little more serene than most in such setting. one would say he was quite in his element.

happy to be here in all of his eccentric and morbid grim reaper glory. he prepares another of his clients for a proper goodbye with their family. to him, even if the soul has left for the afterlife. It was always importnt to respect the departures of the dead one last time.

zhao haitao has always been fascinated with how goodbyes are said in different religions and beliefs. And does not show fear in putting this interest on display during mourning ceremonies.

Of course, he remains proper and composed during the entire occassion. But approaches the families with intrigue and interest for their cultures. Both to learn, and show that they aren’t all alone.

What a strange man indeed.

 

꒰ appearance ꒱

maroon eyes, slitted pupils

short, fluffy black hair that extends down to his neck. with bangs that hang just on top of his brows.

paler skin tone in comparison to most in his family, however he shares the same sharp features especially on his face

6’5” tall, with a sleeper build that fools most of his actual strength, though he rarely shows it anyway.

rows of sharp teeth

wears black, round-framed glasses

has a dark, vintage aesthetic, often donning long black coats and intricate black hanfu

dark talons often painted black fading to white at the tips. styled into looking like coffin nails because he thinks it’s funny considering his job

has specks of carnelian crystals running down his forearms. this is the only part of his body he shows off his crystals.

standard lobe piercings, often worn in drop shapes with black pearls hanging at the very end.

wears lots of dark bracelets and necklaces, though takes them all off during work hours.

 

꒰ personality ꒱

has quite the morbid sense of humor and personality. which throws some off guard at first sight of the mortician. though many grow fond of his morbidity with time and finds he can even be a bit dry.

one of his core traits is his eerieness. the unsettling but oddly nice mix of creepiness is simply just a part of him that is so undeniably charming.

quite the calm and intelligent man. confident in his words, yet acknowledges when he is wrong and allows space to be educated should there be aspects of whichever topic he may be speaking about. He likes to keep respect in his circle, unless someone asks for the disrespect to come their way.

is most kind to those who he comes across, insightful and capable of reading most people.

curious and wise. he builds his knowledge on life and all of it’s aspects by his curiosity and want to learn.

observant and secretive. a side not many know of. though perhaps to some, it should not come as a surprise that the ever kind mortician may hide some grim secrets below his sleeve. he is an observer, in his work and outside of it.

eccentric in quite a few ways. most are fond of it, some find him odd to be around and avoid him, though he never really pays any mind to it, nor does he find the time to care.

deep down, he can be quite amoral, but it is something he keeps to himself.

extremely stubborn, whenever he has a goal, he is set on finishing it. nobody gets in the way of that preferrably.

there are darker sides to the man that not many people other than those who crosses him wrong. and they will experience his purposefully provocative, cunning and manipulative sides. he can easily find some enjoyment in tormenting someone emotionally or mentally if they drive him too far into the mud. he’s not the future corpse, after all

 

꒰ with a lover ꒱

an incredibly good listener. whatever you may be talking about, haitao enjoys listening to you speak any time of the day. Not to mention he is extremely emotionally intelligent. if you need a shoulder to cry on, he’ll be there.

he makes so many bad eccentric and dry jokes. yet you know each and every one of them are endearing and loving, even the ones where he talks about the day he and you will share a coffin together.

speaking of sharing coffins. haitao builds coffins for you for each season to make sure if you go you go with style. it’s all out of affection please don’t take it the wrong way— come back xin gan!

really enjoys doing your nails and helping you pick out jewellery and outfits, especially if you two are going out on a date and you don’t know what to wear. He’ll find the perfect outfit for you.

gifted you one of his orchid brooches so that when you really need him, you can call him through that brooch and he will be there as fast as he possibly can.

his primary love language is acts of service and affectionate lingering touches. The touch might not last long, a brief hug or stroke of his knuckles across your cheek, but it lingers for the entire day to comfort you.

always leaves little notes and letters around for you to read throughout the day on really busy days in the morturary. he wants to make sure you don’t feel alone.

takes you out for midnight walks at graveyards and dances you among the dead. putting on a little show for the spirits. while he enjoys your happy laughter whenever he dips you during your little dance.

pampers you at any possible chance he can get to. treating you to your favourite snacks and drinks, making sure you’re comfortable and relaxed.

encourages you to eat and sleep properly, to take your meds and stay safe when you go out. because, as much as he jokes about death and talks about it’s beauty and how he enjoys his work, the last thing he wants is for you to actually lay down on his table in the morgue…

gifts you your favourite crystals and flowers throughout the week. Any trinket he finds that reminds him of you, you’re gonna be showered in no doubt.

 

꒰ strengths ꒱

soul-reaping: Haitao has the ability to reap more than 30 souls and carry them on his scythe until he can send them away to the afterlife.

vapour teleportation: can shift his physical form into a dark vapour and can move at high speeds towards a different location.

dark vapor production: produces a dark vapour from his back and shoulders that can blind and disorientate enemies greatly.

hallucinative vapor production: similar to his dark vapour, however causes those that breathe it in to hallucinate; often multiple versions of him.

coffin madness: a curse that the young mortician invented himself. while not much is known on the curse, surviving opponents have noted that each time the curse has been casted on anyone in a 20 ft radius. they’ve disappeared into the ground with no return to the surface

work tools: after years of working in the zhào estate mortuary, the young reaper quickly learnt their other perks. using them to subdue the rising dead or unwelcome human intruders

  ꒰ weaknesses ꒱

scoliosis: was born with this defect and struggles with it throughout his life.

daylight: as a nocturnal reaper, daylight and other bright sources of light can weaken his senses of sight as he is used to the darkness of the night.

d’akar: an anti-magic material that can greatly weaken him if he comes into contact with it.

extreme emotional attachment: while reapers may remind one of humans, they are not. they are beings with very empathetic instincts and have souls bigger than the average mortal being — a thing that has been with them since their creation. they become extremely attached to things they love and it may cause them to become erratic if enough they love is taken away from them.

fading: occurs when a reaper goes through immense hurt and pain. their physical form quite literally begins to disappear, making them appear transparent. it can be a very painful process, both emotionally and physically. until their physical form eventually fades away and their soul moves on to the afterlife

 

꒰ relationships ꒱

yuè mèng yáo: mother

zhào mùchén: father

zhào jìngyí: older brother, deceased

zhào hàoyú: older brother

zhào xīyáng: twin brother

zhào yizé: younger brother

zhào yŭ xī: younger brother/sister/sibling

kyung seong-jin: boyfriend, best friend

Shiyu: good friend

alessio agresta arias: older brother figure

lorenzo agresta arias: brotherly figure

shalika vaiysha: older sisterly figure

 

꒰ extra ꒱

is the head mortician of the Zhào estate morturary and manages clients and teaching the interns and new workers

loves hong shao rou ( braised pork belly )

some may find his laugh a little unsettling at first but grow fond of it the more they hear it

loves making coffin and skeleton shaped biscuits to munch on in work hours

loves picking out funeral wear and makeup for his clients.

can work through any smells, just not the shore bodies.

barely feels sadness, except for the times where he has to bury someone who has no visitors at the funeral. He keeps them company as much as he can.

fluent in asl & csl

[crowroboros]

the main echo cast and their splatoon mains. GO!

Oh fun, alright! I'll also put an explanation for my reasoning at the end. Really enjoyed thinking about this. This will be Splatoon 3 focused by the way, as it is the most recent game.

Chase Hunter - Octobrush (Suction Bomb/Zipcaster)

Leo Alvarez - Dread Wringer (Suction Bomb/Reefslider)

Jenna Begay - .52 Gal Deco (Curling Bomb/Splattercolor Screen)

Carl Hendricks - Splatana Stamper Nouveau (Toxic Mist/Crab Tank)

TJ Hess - Big Swig Roller Express (Angle Shooter/Ink Storm)

Flynn Moore - Custom E-Liter 4K Scope (Squid Beakon/Kraken Royale)

Bonus! Syndey Bronson - Custom Blaster (Point Sensor/Triple Splashdown)

Explanation time, spoilers will be mentioned.

Chase: Chunter mains Octobrush. The weapon cannot take fights head on due to having shorter range than many other weapons and thus has to rely on off-angles to get kills and take space or by poking with bombs from a distance. Chase rarely if ever wins a fight he's in one-on-one, having to rely on a distraction from people around him to get any sort of advantage. He also tends to avoid confrontation all together, usually running when faced with a danger like Duke or Brian. This works very well with Brushes as they are highly mobile when brushing along the ground which they use to escape situations that they would get splatted in otherwise. Chase is also referred to as having stubby legs that makes running not his strong-suit and that works with Octobrush specifically as it it slower in both its flicks and brushing when compared to the Inkbrush, and its brushing speed is slower than painbrush (although it has faster flicks than painbrush). Octobrushes tend to shark in ink, swimming around and popping up when an opportunity presents itself. So an octobrush user is often in swim form a noticeable portion of a match, which works great with Chotter who is an avid swimmer! Zipcaster may be the odd one out when it comes to this weapon being Chase's main but I do think it plays into all of the aforementioned traits with how Octobrush tends to use the special.

Leo: I might need to defend myself on this one but here me out. Leo is headstrong and very straightforward in how he does things right? He's intelligent but stubborn, rarely considering alternative options which can backfire on him. That is the Reefslider special. It is straightforward; Rush forward on an inflatable shark and explode. But because of that, it can be predicable and ends up getting countered a lot. Beyond that, Leo really does care for his friends and wants to be their protector. Originally I thought that a Big Bubbler weapon could be pretty good for that, but I think that Reefslider fits Leo better but also a main weapon like Dread Wringer also can cover that aspect. Dread Wringer paints an insane amount, which means that the team has a lot of ink to swim through, hide in, recover health, escape through, etc. It also is AMAZING at comboing with weapons like the Range Blaster or Snipewriter so it ends up working a lot with other weapons. Sharing the sub weapon of suction bomb with Octobrush can be representative of his relationship with Chase and how he sticks to the image of Echo, Chase, and the past.

Jenna: .52 Gal Deco and Jenna okay. I had a few ideas for Jenna, initially thinking of her maining a dualie of some kind but I just couldn't figure out which one would work best. Jenna is practical, self-reliant, and resourceful while also having a playful streak about her. She loves pulling pranks and joking around with her friends while still being generally supportive and helpful towards them even if she can come off as harsh at times. Also being a fox, she is rather mobile and fast on her feet. It's that last part that originally made me think of giving her a dualie, but I couldn't find one that I thought matched all of her traits. That's when I decided to approach it from a different angle. I started from her independence and worked from there. I started thinking of weapons that were very self-reliant, able to hold their own in fights, can paint well for themselves, etc. Then I started thinking about weapons that can be a bit playful and sneaky while keeping their mobility. And after a lot of consideration I landed on the .52 Gal Deco. The main weapon, .52 Gal, is a mid-range shooter that is pretty much the definition of a self-reliant and resourceful weapon. It is a very consistent two-shot weapon with a pretty solid fire rate, making it very reliable in fights while minimizing the amount of time it takes to kill so it can splat the opponent before it can get splatted. It can be a bit ink-hungry so the user needs to be resourceful and aware of their surroundings and their own resources to fully utilize the weapon's strengths. Curling bomb as a sub weapon gives this otherwise okay-mobility weapon much better movement, which the user can use to get around the map quickly and distract opponents. This weapon ends up playing rather fast paced and sneaky by using its range, kill-time, and curling bomb to move around the map to take positions that the enemy team might not be expecting. And then the special of Splattercolor Screen works as a smoke-screen of sorts, concealing your team from the enemy sight. That plus curling bomb allows for a bunch of mind games on where the .52 Gal Deco user could be at any given time, especially if they're running Ninja Squid.

Carl: This one was a bit more difficult to figure out than the first three but I think the Splatana Stamper Nouveau is a good fit for him. Carl is more laid-back and chill, so I didn't think a weapon that is very fast-paced, aggressive, and "high energy" would work for him. He also dislikes being the center of attention so in my mind that pushed me towards weapons that work well as an anchor in a team comp rather than a slayer or skirmisher or something. Carl also has a stockier build and for a time worked out, which made me think of Crab Tank. This narrowed my thoughts down to Splatana Stamper Nouveau and the Heavy Edit Splatling Nouveau. Both are strong, slower, sturdier weapons that play at the range that Crab Tank favors. I went with Splatana Stamper Nouveau over Heavy Edit Nouveau because Heavy Edit as a main weapon is much more fast and mobile and really likes fighting. Stamper Nouveau — unlike the vanilla Stamper — isn't as much as a fighter. It can still fight pretty well, it is a Splatana Stamper after all, but it plays more to support it's team by painting for Crab Tank to apply distance pressure and comboing with other weapons by using it's 70dmg charge slash or the aforementioned Crab Tank. Nouveau as a weapon brand also tends to make weapons based around art supplies, and Carl is an artist.

TJ: Okay TJ and Big Swig Express. TJ as a character is very altruistic and kind. He loves and supports his friends and I figured that a more supportive weapon would work very well with that. The Big Swig roller as a main weapon is focused on putting down paint for your team to swim through, heal, etc. And with Ink Storm also expanding upon that I thought that the Big Swig Express fits TJ's caring personality pretty well. It also is a weapon that doesn't fight much due to it's low damage, which I again think fits with TJ's personality. He tends to avoid conflict and often gets very uncomfortable when pressured by Flynn or anyone else. TJ is also very athletic, and the Big Swig is a faster weapon in terms of its flicks and movement.

Flynn: One I think is pretty self-explanatory. Flynn is proficient with a rifle and the charger class of weapons fill the archetype of sniper-rifles in the Splatoon games. I chose the Custom E-Liter 4K Scope specifically as a callback to Flynn's role in Jenna's route where he takes a position far back to aim his rifle on Heather at the dam. Kraken Royale is a transformation special that transforms the user into a large invincible kraken, in which the user can swim around and perform melee attacks to fight before turning back about ~7 seconds later. For Custom E-Liter, this allows it to protect itself up close. The main gun is very long range and has a very slow charge time. It is meant to take vantage points and snipe from a distance and thus it can't fight when rushed down. Kraken helps cover that weakness. Flynn does throw some punches a few times in the vn, though he doesn't always win these fights. I thought that this dynamic between E-Liter and Kraken represents that pretty well. Also spoiler. Flynn transforms into the Socket Man, a seemingly immortal entity that can rush down and kill things kind of like how Kraken functions.

Sydney: I think this one is also pretty self-explanatory, right? Sydney was rambunctious, loves to wrestle, was a big fan of things like ninjas and treasure hunts. Custom Blaster is a short range blaster that plays to its aggression and being able to get up to an opponent and hopefully hit its one-shot direct before the opponent can fire back. Point Sensor marks any enemy that enters its aoe, so the Custom Blaster player will know where that enemy is while the enemy won't know where the Custom Blaster player is. This allows the user to get up flank and get up close to either direct or use Triple Splashdown, which I mean looks like this.

The user rises into the air and summons two massive fists, smashing into the ground and creating three large explosions.

Custom Blaster has a very aggressive, fast-paced, up-close playstyle that rewards both rushing down your opponent and being creative in ways that you approach to compensate for your short range. It also is a weapon that favors gear with Quick Respawn, cause it ends up dying a lot.

[serpentsillusion]

Sebastian, Ominis, and my x MC

🐍✨

What are their zodiac signs and birthdays? *Near the end of 5th year* 🤔💚

Ever wondered what our 2 favorite idiots were, based on the stars? I studied astrology and similar things before it was mainstream. From what I've gathered based on their characteristics and personalities in the game this is the assumptions I've gathered (and some random other observations I've gathered). These are not fact but just my personal ✨Lore✨ plus a little bit about my MC. Welcome to my spicy brain and my spicy imagination. 💚 I hope you guys enjoy the lore! Hopefully it will give you more insight into my next coming shorts. 🐍

Sebastian: born March 28th 1874. He's MOST definitely an Aries. Aries personality traits include confidence, passion, and independence. But this sign can also be impulsive, impatient, and self-centered. They're Competitive. As a fire sign, Aries are fueled by intensity. They love to challenge others to friendly competition. Positive Traits: Energetic, Bold,  possesses Leadership Skills. Negative Traits: Impulsive, Stubborn, Impatient. Aries brings dynamism. His Mother and Father were named Johnathan James Sallow and Mary Anne Sallow. I figure his middle name is probably of his father's also. I kinda dig the thought of Sebastian James Sallow. 🤔🤭

Sebastian 100% smells like Sandalwood. Have you ever smelled that on a man? Holy Merlin TAKE ME AWAY! 😭 Sandalwood screams masculinity to me. But like a mysterious and seductive, curious masculinity way. The first time MC smelled his cologne on him she immediately had to know what it was. He told her, because she asked, very bluntly to be honest.... And now sometimes her girls bed room smells like burning sandalwood when she misses being around him or his dumb ass gets detention and she has to go to classes without him. (my real life partner wears this and it is INTOXICATING) Give it a try. 😏🤭

Nicknames: Seb, Sebby Boi, idiot #1, Sebs, sex panther (MC keeps that one to herself)

Sebastian's talents: he's really good at wood work and tinkering. He likes carving things for his friends out of tree branches. One of the very few things he doesn't use magic for. He once made a tiny carved bear for MC for her 16th birthday, she put it in a trinket box next to her bed and cried about it when she went to bed that night because it was so precious. Ominis got a teeny tiny carved peepee one time as a prank. He was not amused. ALSO Seb's surprisingly good at making food. (had to survive on his own for a little while)

Favorite food: literally anything. Jelly beans, haggis (he's Scottish, and his mom used to make it ALOT) Tablet (look it up) MC's Dad once sent a whole loaf of homemade banana nutbread to the Slytherin common room for her and she only had like maybe a bite. That was a new thing for Seb he had never tried, and unfortunately he ate most of it and was very upset with himself afterwards because it was for her. It was DELICIOUS 😂 MC couldn't help but love that he loved it. He wanted the recipe but she told him no. It was a family recipe, and if he wanted it, he'd have to marry her. That was a challenge accepted in his mind. Ominis doesn't like Bananas but he tried it and was nice about it, after spitting it in the trashcan without MC seeing. (he really hates Bananas...it's a texture thing.)

Seb=Dom. Likes to be in control 24/7. Turns into a complete and utter almost feral animal when confronted with matching Dom energy. Especially with a female.. aka MC

Probably most definitely has sad boi depression and anxiety. Which turns into fear, which turns into anger. Probably has PTSD. MC shares his pain from her upbringing and that's another reason why they have bonded so incredibly fast.

Ominis:  born September 25th 1874. Definitely a Libra. Libra's are extroverted, cosy, and friendly people. Libra's, like the Scales that symbolise the sign, are often concerned with attaining balance, harmony, peace, and justice in the world. With their vast stores of charm, intelligence, frankness, persuasion, and seamless connectivity, they are well-equipped to do so. I'm going to assume his father was British and his mother was Irish according to ✨le internet.✨ His father's name was probably something fancy like Elias and his Mother was probably something super classy like Violet. Idk 😐😂

Ominis probably smells like vetiver, tobacco (for some reason) and leather. Like a high society lounge for men. With ✨class✨ The epitome of sophistication.

Nicknames: idiot #2, omnomnom he hates it when MC calls him that but it's cute, snakey boi.

Ominis=Sub. Too nervous to touch a girl. Doesn't know what to do. Too gentleman like. Wants to wait until marriage. Probably screams and runs if he tries to be kissed by a girl. Like Poppy.

Ominis and Sebastian are already best friends but Ominis feels drawn to MC in a way a brother is drawn to protect his sister. Ominis feels obligated to help protect MC because he views her as a sister, and the fact that his best friend is absolutely smitten with her. Ominis will 100% be the best man at Sebastian's wedding to MC. She just doesn't know she's gonna get married to that idiot yet.

Ominis talents: is surprising very very good at playing the piano. It was something he was made to do as a child for his parents extravagant parties.

Favorite food: Anything, except fucking bananas.

My MC: aka Jessica "Jess" Garyn Burke born October 16th 1874. The youngest of The Silver Trio, and also similarly of Borgin and Burkes owned by Mr Borgin and Mr Burke, who were known to deal with unusual and ancient artifacts.😉 I picked Jessica because it's actually an OLD name meaning "To Behold" and Garyn meaning "warrior" Everything she knows she learned from her Dad, including protecting herself magically and *physically* like when she decked Leander Prewett in the face for calling her a rather "prude" name and teasing her in front of everyone including Sebastian and Ominis. 0/10 does not like being sexualized by other men, finds it incredibly disrespectful. She can handle her own. Obviously. It only cost her 2 weeks of detention. Leander and her are cool now btw. He's fine. His pride is not. Sebastian purposely got 2 weeks detention shortly after that so he could be around her more. 😂🤭😁✨ She is incredibly sassy, blunt, domineering, sharp as a whip, and not traditionally "ladylike". MC is not afraid to dig her nails in the dirt if she has to. And she will 100% knock a man on his ass for grabbing her butt. "Bitches get shit done." Is her Mantra.

MC=Dom a dangerous mix when tangled around Sebastian. They constantly fight for dominance but he usually always wins. Only because he's taller and a lot stronger than she is. Not sexually active because she's afraid of her father finding out and killing the poor guy. But she does know how to tie a cherry stem in her mouth without using her fingers. 10/10 proud of herself for that after almost choking on a few in her time trying. She learned that from one of her friends back in London. Father doesn't approve of said friend. Useful skill for seduction. Will keep in her back pocket for later. Is actually kinky. She's read A LOT of books about it. Can "work her magic" so to say if need be.

MC usually has her butternut ash brown hair up in a beautiful and detailed bun with intricate pieces framing her face. Slightly pale skin with mild freckles and bright blue eyes. She loves fresh flowers but fresh roses are her ABSOLUTE favorite!! Which is her perfume of choice. Just straight up Rose.

-She also cries when she gets yelled at. Because she's sensitive, but also immediately gets immensely pissed off. You would prefer having her as a friend, and not an enemy. That is why Sebastian and her formed an incredibly strong bond shortly after becoming friends. They are actually very similar. Did not speak to Sebastian for a whole month after he got mad and called her ignorant that one time. Made her cry after he left the undercroft. Did not understand why she would walk past him in the halls and ignore his owls until he apologized.

MC talents: loves drawing. She doodles some of her classmates in her spare time outside the grounds of Hogwarts, while on picnics or laying against trees. She's drawn Ominis and Sebastian. Especially Sebastian. Several times. She hides those ones because she doesn't want him to know she gets butterflies in her stomach around him. MC is also really good at singing, she just doesn't do it in front of literally anyone. She plays the lute but doesn't really care for the high pitched twang if it. Sometimes she wants someone to invent something very similar. They both should have 6 strings so it wouldn't be hard to learn a different instrument that's very *similar* to a lute. Does not like playing in front of anyone. Sebastian heard her one time when she was sick and stuck in her room practicing all day because she was bored. Everyone was "supposed" to be in class. He was befuddled and so incredibly impressed he couldn't move. MC is also formally trained in hand to hand wandless combat, trained executively by her father, Incase expelliarmus gets casted on her. Doesn't want anyone to know she can whoop ass. Also MC is like REALLY good at dancing, LOVES music and making people laugh. Will purposely embarrasses herself dancing just to make her friends laugh.

MC parents and Family: David Burke and Ramona Nielson. Wizard and Muggle. Divorced cuz Ramona is not dependable as a mother and is scared if her magic welding children, had to be obliviated regarding that part of her children. Ramona still got custody even though she wasn't really around for her daughter growing up which made MC want to stay longer with her father during summer vacation, away from school and sharing holidays between both homes. MC has to have that little bit of stern staleness from something...🤷🏻‍♀️ MC was "raised" by her loving and supportive father who served in the Royal Wizard Military as an elite and very powerful wizard. After he retired from the RWM her father decided to travel, collecting ancient artifacts which is why MC is so good at tracking them down so fast. Her uncle is Caractacus Burke who is the founder of Borgin and Burkes. MC has 2 other siblings. An older brother Roderick, and an older sister, Seraphina. Both past Slytherin alumni. Seraphina is diplomatic but deceitful. Spending most of her time working for the Ministry of Magic directly under the Minister. while most unfortunately Roderick is estranged from the family due to criminal "acts" on house elves. MC's father was in Gryffindor. He is somewhat a little disappointed that none of his children were accepted into Gryffindor, however he is still grateful they ended up possessing magic. Does not know his youngest child can see ancient magic. Wouldn't be surprised if she did. MC's bff is her father and her cat Oliver. MC constantly stops to pet cats in hogsmeade whenever she can.

ANYWAY! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS!! It took me literal hours as I'm still trying to figure out how to navigate Tumblr editing 😂 my eyes and hands hurt. Lol

Stay stunned for more ✨lore✨

[thesunbums]

❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed ELARA "ELLE" LOCKHART walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who SHE is? they kind of look like BELLA MACLEAN and i could be wrong but i think that they might be 24 year old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last TWENTY-TWO YEARS...

STATS

NAME: Elara "Elle" Quinn Lockhart

BIRTHDATE: December 22, 2000

BIRTHPLACE: Savannah, Georgia

HOMETOWN: Palmview Grove, FL

TIME IN TOWN: 22 years except (Except for 4-years of university)

NEIGHBORHOOD: 550 Pacific Drive, Emerald Point (Childhood Home)

ORIENTATION & STATUS: Heterosexual & Single

OCCUPATION: Vet Tech at Dune Animal Rescue

PERSONALITY TRAITS: + Empathetic, Bright, Gracious, Hardworking | – Worrier, Timid, Reserved, & Stubborn

AESTHETICS: carrying your heart on your sleeve, knowing it is better to love than hate, loyalty beyond compare, tenderness is a virtue, laughter like sodapop, a pile of books with the edges folded over, sharing an affection amongst friends, honey jars filled to the brim, the first bloom of spring

CONNECTION: Half-Sister of Alyssa Lockhart (@sunshinesfm)

BIOGRAPHY

Elara Quinn was born in Savannah and raised in Palmview Grove with her head of the PTA, former pageant queen of a mother, and a reserved and pragmatic businessman of a father. Picket-white fences with the two golden labradors and the beach within walking distance were the backdrop of her life. Elara was raised to be the All-American girl who came from the dutiful and beloved All-American family in their town that was Palmview Grove.

Every second of every day of her life was perfectly curated. From the things she ate to the friends she had, to the things she studied and did. From sunrise to sunset, Elara's schedule was packed out. Beyond maintaining a perfect GPA throughout her schooling, she mastered fluency in French and Spanish, eloquently played the violin and flute, won every equestrian competition, and stood high on the top of the cheerleading pyramid as a premier flyer. While she did her part, her parents perfectly rounded the Lockhart image in town with her mother's notable holiday parties and luncheons, and her dad's annual golfing fundraiser at the country club.

Little did she know that her parents had perfected this image to mask the life and past of her father. A few days before she was supposed to start her senior year in high school, with a clandestine resume packed and ready to be submitted to the colleges of her dreams, Elara learned who she was. She was no longer just the only child of her father's, but the youngest of four. A man who had a life long before her and her mother. One with a previous woman and a family of his own. That truth derailed Elara's perception of her world and the people she loved and trusted.

Breaking away from the expectations of her parents who had wanted Elle to simply go off to a prestigious university, to follow in her mother's footsteps of being a trophy wife connected to a well-to-do family, she chose herself for the first time. Incredibly terrifying, she trimmed the things that were forced upon her to the things that truly brought her joy and it was caring for her horses throughout her childhood. So, she decided to pursue to become a veterinarian as she rewrites her narrative for once.

As Elara immersed herself in her studies across the country, she discovered her unique quirks, interests, and dislikes about the world. She also attempted to connect with her half-siblings but encountered more resistance than acceptance. Nonetheless, she remains optimistic that everything will fall into place in time. Over the past few years, Elara has found security in her authentic self and has never been happier. Now, in her second year of veterinary school in her hometown, Elle can confidently express her true identity within the community she has always known and loved.