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ckret2 · 1 year

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Chapter 22 of human Bill's still putting up with being the Mystery Shack's prisoner (title tbd), featuring: Dipper's having nightmares about his spirit floating out of his body, just like the Bipper incident. (He's very sure they're only nightmares.) And Bill, kind and generous muse that he is, would love to help, and definitely isn't offering for secret evil reasons. After all, how could a dream demon benefit from telling his enemies how to control their dreams?

Even though Dipper already knew, intellectually, that dreaming about Bill didn't mean Bill was in his dreams, getting immediate physical proof was a relief. Any time he had another nightmare, all he had to do was get out of bed, go find Bill—sleeping, drinking, reading, meditating, watching TV, staring out a window—and see for himself that there was no way Bill could have been in his head.

So tonight, when he "woke" into another Bipper nightmare, his first instinct was to go gripe at Bill about it.

He'd floated through the bedroom door and hovered halfway down the stairs before he remembered that since he was currently having the Bipper Nightmare, dreaming that he was floating ghostlike outside his body, it meant he wasn't actually awake and he couldn't gripe at the real Bill; but then he decided maybe he'd feel better if he ranted at dream Bill anyway.

The TV glowed from the living room. At this time of night, it could be Abuelita or Bill. Dipper's spectral socked feet settled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward the sofa—and froze.

Sitting on the sofa, legs curled feet-on-thighs in lotus position, was Bill—and he was surrounded by a brilliant light, yellow-golden against the dream fog gray. Like the halo of sunlight around an eclipse, or like a radioactive mass close enough to melt your eyes, or like an explosion rushing closer. The light danced around Bill like solar flares. Dipper had to squint his eyes against the light.

"Whoa," Dipper said.

The light dimmed to a faint yellow aura as Bill turned toward him. Dipper nearly jumped out of his skin, except that he was already out of his skin. Bill said, "'Whoa' what?"

No one ever saw Dipper during his Bipper nightmares. (But then, he supposed, it made sense if he dreamed that Bill could see him, didn't it? Since he'd been the only one able to see Dipper after he stole his body.) Dipper gestured vaguely at Bill. "You're, uh. Glowing."

"Aw, flattering." Bill laughed. "You look like a zombie trying to figure out if he wants to return to the land of the living. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Ha ha," Dipper said flatly.

"What, another nightmare? Are you here to tell me how your subconscious is my responsibility again?"

"Shut up." Imaginary dream Bill was just as annoying as the real one; but Dipper decided he'd feel pretty dumb for yelling at "Bill" for invading Dipper's dream while Dipper was still dreaming. (Maybe Dipper's subconscious mind was using the form of a snarky Bill to tell Dipper that he needed to seize control of his dreams rather than blame somebody else for them? That Bill might have caused Dipper's recurring nightmares, but only Dipper could do the work to end them? Huh. He'd look into that when he woke up.)

His gaze drifted to the television, which was displaying a man hunched over a bizarrely-angled desk in a black-and-white movie. (He could somehow tell it was black and white, even though colors were already muted and grayish during his Bipper nightmares.) It was like seeing a dream within a dream. "What are you watching?"

"The Counterfeit of Dr. Calligraphy," Bill said. "A hypnotist sends letters to a sleepwalker that have subliminal messages concealed in the handwriting. He brainwashes the sleepwalker into making fake money in his sleep. It's a comedy."

It didn't look very comedic. Dipper wondered how he'd dreamed this plot up. Anxiety about waking up from one dream into another dream, combined with memories of counterfeiting money last summer?

He leaned against the doorframe and watched the movie long enough to confirm it was not, in fact, a comedy, but rather some kind of gloomy noir-ish silent film; then sighed in boredom. His subconscious couldn't even imagine up a fun movie. "I'm going back to my body," he muttered, pushing off the ground and hovering back up the stairs.

Bill, eyes half-lidded, didn't look up from the screen as he sleepily muttered, "Mmkay."

It took a long moment before he said, "You're going to your what?" He leaned out of the living room and looked up the stairs; but Dipper was long gone.

Maybe he'd misheard "bed." He settled back in front of the TV; but he wasn't paying attention to the movie now.

####

"You look exhausted," Mabel said, ruffling Dipper's messy hair with both hands. "Did you stay up late reading again?"

"No," Dipper groaned. "I just slept badly. I had another Bipper nightmare. I dreamed about Bill making fun of me and watching a boring movie."

"Aw, Dipper. I'm sorry," Mabel said sympathetically. She fixed her headband for the day in the bedroom mirror and pulled on her shoes. "I dreamed about a car race where all the drivers are kittens!"

"Oh yeah?"

"It was really intense! Two of the cars crashed," Mabel said. "Everyone was okay though. The drivers were saved by a firetruck with Dalmatian puppy firefighters!"

When they made it down to the kitchen, Bill was already there, sipping burned coffee with his eyes closed. "Hey, twerps." He peeled one eye open a slit just long enough to figure out which set of twerp footsteps belonged to Mabel, and held his coffee mug in her direction. "Top me off?"

"You got it!" Mabel retrieved her pitcher of Mabel Juice from the fridge, refilled Bill's coffee with it, and poured herself a cup.

"What's today's flavor?"

"Blue!"

"That's exactly what I need." Bill took a deep drink, spat a small plastic horse on the table, and sipped more carefully.

"You look exhausted, too." Mabel poured herself a bowl of cereal and milk. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"I don't have nightmares; nightmares have me," Bill said.

Dipper, the person whose nightmares had Bill, scowled and leaned against the stove to wait for Bill to leave so he could get breakfast.

"But no—I was up late watching a German expressionist cinema marathon," Bill went on. "They don't make 'em like that anymore. Which is good, because I prefer my movies with colors and music; but there's nothing quite like watching five movies in a row about going insane in the middle of the night on twenty-four hours without sleep. Second most likely experience to make you see phantom spiders crawl across you skin." He cracked open an eye again and tried to steal Mabel's cereal. She smacked his hand with her spoon and stole it back.

He dragged himself out of his chair to get some proper food. "Get the fridge?" Mabel opened the door for him. As he rummaged around for something appealing, he glanced back over his shoulder at Dipper. "You missed the punchline, by the way."

Dipper started. "The what?"

"On Dr. Calligraphy," Bill said. "You went back to bed before the ending. The sleepwalker's counterfeits are so good that nobody believes the investigator from the treasury when he says they're fakes. He gets hauled to the looney bin—and then realizes the handwriting in all the letters from his boss is the same as the hypnotist's." Bill laughed. "I told you it was a comedy, didn't I?" He dumped some bagels, squirt cheese, and pickled jalapeños on the kitchen counter, then glanced at Dipper again. "What's with that look? Don't you get it?" He sighed and rolled his open eye. "Okay, so the joke is that both the main character and the audience will never know if he was set up, driven insane, or always insane—"

"I didn't go 'back to bed'," Dipper said, stomach twisting. "I—never got out of bed. I didn't watch a movie last night."

"You didn't," Bill said skeptically. And then, studying Dipper's face, repeated, "You didn't?"

Mabel was staring between Dipper and Bill. To Dipper, she said, "Was... that the boring movie in your dream?"

Dipper didn't reply. He didn't want to say anything with Bill listening—not when he didn't know what Bill knew. Or what Bill might have done. Maybe I just heard the movie from upstairs, Dipper thought—and might have believed, if not for the fact that it was a silent film.

Bill was silent for a long moment—longer than Dipper felt safe with. Like a cat sizing up its prey. "Well, how about that," Bill said. His smile was not reassuring. "Looks like Dr. Calligraphy isn't the only one with a sleepwalker on his hands."

####

"Do I sleepwalk?" Dipper demanded.

Bartholomew stared at him in perfect silence. "You can't tell," he said, "on account of the fact that I can't move; but I just did a confused double-take in my head."

"Do I sleepwalk!" Dipper repeated. "I was—I think I was sleepwalking last night—? If I wasn't sleepwalking, then that means Bill was—was in my head somehow, and I don't know how or what he was doing in there—so either he was in my head or I was somehow downstairs, or—I don't know, maybe I was out of my head—but I really need to know which it was, and Mabel was asleep last night so you're the only one who would know—"

"Dipper," Mabel said, shutting the door behind them. "Hold on. If Bill was doing something in your head, why would he just tell you about it at breakfast by spoiling the end of the movie?"

"I don't know!" Dipper said. "To terrify me? To let me know what he can do?"

"But if we know he can do it, that means we can stop him from doing it," Mabel said. "It doesn't make sense—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bartholomew said. "I wasn't up here last night. I was watching a picture show marathon through the living room vent."

Mabel laughed. "You call them picture shows. You're so old."

"'Move-y' sounds stupid and I'm willing to die on this hill."

"Was I there?" Dipper asked. "Did I come downstairs last night?"

"Yeah, during Dr. Calligraphy," Bartholomew said. "I could hear you talking to Bill. You said he was glowing. Which stood out to me as kind of weird, since he's always glowing."

Dipper heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay. Great. So I was sleepwalking. That's..." He paused, gave Bartholomew a funny look, and said, "Let's... let's unpack the thing about Bill glowing later."

"Suit yourself."

He looked at Mabel. "I was having a Bipper dream. Do you think I always sleepwalk during those dreams? Maybe that's why they're always about me wandering around at night?"

"Maybe?" Mabel shivered. "Augh, does that mean whenever you dreamed about trying to come to me for help, you were actually just standing over my bed watching me sleep?"

Dipper dragged his hands down his face. "Mabel. Sometimes I visited the neighbors' houses."

"Dipper!" Mabel laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it. "Have you been walking around in the street in your pajamas?"

"Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe sometimes I'm sleepwalking but sometimes I stay in bed. Last night I really wanted to go yell at Bill, maybe that... got me on my feet?" He dropped onto his bed, chin in his hands.

Mabel sat on her bed with her cereal, and handed over a banana she'd grabbed for Dipper. "We can start locking the bedroom door," she said. "So if you do start sleepwalking, at least you can't get out."

"What if I unlock it in my sleep?"

"Maybe Grunkle Ford could teach me the anti-door curse he put on Bill! And I could cast it on you at night so you can't get out of the room?"

Dipper shook his head. "That's not a long-term solution. What about when we go home? Or what if I need to go to the bathroom?" He gestured emphatically with his banana as he spoke. "I realized something last night, Mabel: I'm sick of these nightmares and I'm sick of just putting up with them. They were bad enough when they were just in my head, but now they have to affect me in real life, too? No! I'm just—not gonna have them anymore."

"Yeah!" Mabel cheered. "I like that attitude! I'm with you. I'm sick of being freaked out by my dreams, too. Do you know how hard it is to rescue kittens from a car crash when you've got to stop and ask yourself if this is a Mabeland thing?"

Dipper hesitated. "Um... probably pretty hard?"

"We'll do it together. We'll both stop having nightmares." She paused. "How?"

"I... don't know yet." Dipper sighed. "Our therapist's given me a few tools to cope with nightmares, but they haven't stopped them. I'm thinking our best bet is magic."

They looked at Bartholomew.

"Sorry," he said. "Outside my wheelhouse. I specialize in creepy dolls and necromancy."

"There's gotta be something in this town," Dipper said. "Maybe dream catchers? Do dream catchers actually work?"

"What about that spell to enter other people's dreams?" Mabel asked. "We could take turns entering each other's dreams to help fight each other's nightmares! That would totally work, right?"

"Except then we'd have to take turns not getting any sleep."

There was a knock on the attic door. Mabel called "Yeah?" and hopped to her feet to open it.

Bill was leaning with his elbow against the doorframe, cheek in his hand, one ankle hooked over the other, grinning broadly. "Couldn't help but overhear that you're having some dream troubles! Here, my card!" He handed Mabel a paper towel on which he'd poorly painted his triangle self with coffee grounds and signed his name in an alien language. "Bill Cipher, professional dream demon—at your service."

Dipper said, "We hung up a 'no solicitors' sign."

"I saw it and I ignored it."

"Bill," Mabel groaned. "Get out of here!" She tried to block him with her arms.

He dodged around her to enter the room with a laugh like this was some playground game, and then immediately tripped over a cardboard box. He recovered his balance by grappling with Mabel's bag of mini golf clubs and drew one out to use as a cane so smoothly it almost looked like he'd planned it that way. "Hey, hold on—I'm here to help!"

"Right," Dipper scoffed. "Like when you wanted to help me unlock that laptop."

"Or when you offered to help me extend summer."

"Or when you were going to 'help' our dimension 'party'?"

Bill said, "I did extend your summer and I did throw a party."

Dipper asked, "And the laptop?"

"No excuse for that! I was just lying to you, kid." Bill laughed.

"Yeah, no," Mabel said, "we don't want your help. No offense, but your help is super evil. Get out of our room."

"No." Bill plopped down in the middle of the floor, arms and legs crossed, mini golf club lain across his knees, smirking defiantly up at Mabel. "Not until you hear me out."

"No! Go. Scoot. Get out." Mabel attempted to shove him toward the door.

"Try it! I weigh more than both of you combined! Physics is on my side! I'm master of this room."

Mabel only succeeded in knocking him onto his side. Bill prodded her back with the handle of the club and said, "Seriously, just listen to me and then I'll go. I'm more or less the reason you're having nightmares in the first place, aren't I? C'mon! How can I make it up to you if you won't even hear me out?"

Mabel paused in her onslaught. "You wanna make it up to us?" Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Sure, why not? Do you think I wanted to traumatize a couple of kids? You just happened to stumble in the way of a force beyond human comprehension! Hey, I stuck you in a paradise bubble, does that scream 'deliberate attempt at psychological torture' to you?"

"You were going to kill me," Dipper said.

"You even left his suicide letter," Mabel said.

"Which was wrong of me," Bill said patiently, with an air that made it sound like he was the one who had to explain this to them, "but I can't undo that unless you want to give me that time tape you're hoarding. On the other hand, I can do something about the nightmares. Just hear me out."

Dipper had been climbing to the end of his bed to try to get past Bill and escape for adult reinforcements, but stopped to stand on the mattress and glare down at Bill. "And then once we've heard you out, you won't leave until we've accepted your offer—"

"There is no offer," Bill said. "I'm giving you information. No 'deals,' no favors, no magic, nothing. Just information. It's your business what you do with it. If you want to throw it away, I've already done my part!"

Dipper hesitated. "I don't trust you."

"You don't have to trust me. Go verify everything I tell you with someone else. Heck, you can even go ask Stanford about it, he'll back up everything I'm about to say."

The fact that Bill was suggesting he talk to Ford threw Dipper off. He glanced at Mabel to see what she thought.

Bill took the momentary silence as a victory. Smugly, he said, "Lucid dreaming."

Dipper blinked in surprise. "Hey, I know what that is. It's when you're dreaming and know you're dreaming, right?"

"You obviously don't know any more about it than that, or else you wouldn't be having nightmares." Now that Mabel wasn't attacking him and Dipper was actually listening, Bill perched on a crate and crossed an ankle over the other knee, getting comfortable. "Knowing you're asleep is step one of lucid dreaming. The next step is controlling your dreams. If you've fully mastered the techniques of lucid dreaming, you'll essentially be a god inside your own sleeping mind."

"Like we did in Grunkle Stan's head!" Mabel said. "When we beat you with kittens."

"And eye lasers," Dipper added.

"And stomach lasers!"

"And 80s music."

"And hamster balls—"

The corners of Bill's mouth twitched a little further down with each sentence. He forced a smile back on. "Right! Haha! You kids." There was friendly good cheer in his voice and wrath in his eyes. "Exactly like that. Except you weren't asleep at the time. That wasn't lucid dreaming, that was imagining. It's a lot easier to do inside of someone else's dreams. You've got to learn an entirely new set of techniques if you want to do it in your own."

Dipper dropped down to sit on his bed again. "Like what kind of techniques? Does it involve meditating, or...?"

Bill laughed. "And here I thought you didn't trust anything I had to say! What, do you want me to teach you how to do it now?"

"No."

"Didn't think so!" Bill grabbed a sparkly pen off Mabel's bedside stand and a scrap of notepaper off their table. "I'll give you some names of authors. Human authors. Experts on the psychology and spirituality of dreams. And if you don't want to trust these authors because I recommended them, fine, just find their books in the library and anything sorted on the same shelves will teach you the same techniques. But master lucid dreaming, and your dreams will be your playground. No more nightmares."

Bill offered the paper to Mabel, but his smirk was aimed at Dipper. "Just like I promised: no magic. Nothing that could invite the big scary dream demon into your precious little heads. All I'm telling you is where to learn your own species's skills. If you don't believe me, go ask for yourself."

####

Sitting back in the guest room's desk chair, Ford frowned at the list of authors Mabel had handed him and stroked his chin thoughtfully. The kids sat on Ford's bed and waited for him to render judgment on the Latest Bill Nonsense.

"That look doesn't look like a good look," Mabel said. "Is Bill up to something bad?"

"On the contrary, I can't think of any way that your learning how to lucid dream could benefit Bill," Ford said. "In fact, if anything, it would be actively detrimental to him. That's what has me so puzzled."

Dipper asked, "What do you mean, actively detrimental?"

"Lucid dreaming is the first line of defense against Bill's mental tricks," Ford said. "By itself, it isn't enough to drive Bill from a dreamer's head; but instantly telling the difference between dreams and reality takes the power out of most of his simplest psychic illusions." He nodded toward Dipper. "For instance, knowing you were dreaming might have saved you entirely from Bill taking over your body."

Dipper blinked. "Wait. What do you mean?"

Ford stared at him. "The computer," he said. "When Bill waited for you to nod off and used a dream to make you think the computer was going to self-destruct."

"He did what?"

"Dipper, Fiddleford never installed a self-destruct sequence on that computer," Ford said. "I... thought you figured that out?"

Dipper stared at Ford. He slid to the floor, lay down, and stared at the ceiling. Mabel leaned forward to pat his head.

Ford did not let himself grin at Dipper's reaction. Dipper had been through a traumatic experience, and finding out there was something else he personally could have done to avoid it all had to be devastating, and therefore—therefore—his dramatic reaction was not funny.

Ford cleared his throat and politely avoided calling attention to Dipper. "And—actively controlling your own dreams won't prevent Bill from controlling them as well; but it arms you with the same weapons he has—just like when you drove him out of Stanley's head. Plus, if there's anything in your dream you can't control, you can be surer that it's Bill's influence rather than a product of your own subconscious. Which... is what makes it so strange that Bill would suggest you look into lucid dreaming. I'm not sure what to make of that."

"Maybe he just told us to be nice?" Mabel asked. "Maybe he really is trying to fix some of his mistakes."

Dipper raised a brow. "Do you really believe that?"

Mabel briefly looked thoughtful; then cracked up laughing. "Okay, I tried! But nope, not for one second!"

Ford chuckled. "Attagirl." He propped his chin in his hand as he thought. "There's a chance that Bill might not be up to anything actively nefarious. I strongly suspect he can't invade others' dreams in his current form—and if that's true, it might not make any difference to him if you know how to defend yourself against attacks he can't even use. And the only thing he's told you is to go look up lucid dreaming—a technique invented by humans, for humans. He might be trying to ingratiate himself with us by offering up cheap information he suspects you could have found on your own."

Mabel said, "So he told us to be nice, for selfish reasons."

"I think that's the most likely explanation. He likes to offer little scraps of wisdom to his 'students'—and then hold them over your head later." Ford hated the possibility that Bill was trying to adopt his niece and nephew as his newest "students"—Mabel especially—but dancing around the uncomfortable possibility rather than pointing it out would just leave them more vulnerable to his tricks.

"That sounds like him," Mabel sighed. "Like the free birthday cake thing."

Ford tried to remember whether he'd mentioned how he'd gotten his cake when they'd been in Portland. "He told you about that, did he?"

"Yeah. While feeling bad for himself about not getting to go to your birthday party."

"Ha."

Dipper said, "So... you don't think there's any risk in learning how to lucid dream? Except that Bill might start bragging about how good he was to suggest it?"

Ford glanced again over the list of authors Bill had given Mabel. "Well... I don't immediately recognize any of these names; but I can double-check to make sure none of them are affiliated with Bill's known protégés or worshipers. But with that risk aside, I'm sure learning about lucid dreaming would be good for you."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air, startling Ford and Dipper. "Time for Mabeland Two, Electric Boogaloo: Democracy Edition! Founded by the people, for the people, with one hundred percent less psychic police states and zero triangle dictators! All the disco coconuts and yarn castles you already know and love, but this time with open borders and free speech!" She ran from the guest room, opened a door, slammed a door; opened the door again, and yelled, "Grunkle Fooord, can you give us a ride to the library!"

Dipper grimaced and looked at Ford. "Uh... Should we be worried about that?"

Ford considered that with pursed lips, then stood and grabbed his keys. "If she starts napping excessively, let me know so we can stage an intervention."

####

Mabel trudged into the living room, lay face down on the carpet between Bill and the TV, and said, "I hate you."

"Sure," Bill said agreeably.

"I mean it. I really hate you." And she said it with such vitriol, such vehemence, that Bill was absolutely positive she didn't hate him at all and would probably never be able to hate him again.

"All right, I'll play," Bill said. "What did I do this time?"

Mabel held a thick, dusty book over her head. It was titled Sleeping Awake: A Meditation and Study Guide for the Initiate Oneironaut. "You gave me homework over the summer."

"Oh, is that it? That's the limit, is it? That's the worst thing I could possibly do to you."

"Yes," Mabel said to the carpet. "It's completely unforgivable." She paused. She lifted her head. "Um. You... do know we're joking, right? The joke is that we're pretending homework is worse than all the other stuff you did, when it definitely isn't? I'm stiiill not exactly sure what your moral compass looks like."

Bill said, "Relax, kid." Bill did not say that he understood that they were joking. "Here, lemme see how painful this is." He plucked the book from Mabel's hand, flipped through a few pages, and grimaced. "Oh wow. Oh, wow, this is drier than the Atacama. This isn't a 'meditation,' it's a textbook. Do they really spend a whole chapter talking about Frederik van Eeden? Gag me with a spoon." He flipped to the index, muttering, "Does this thing even go into milam, or are they completely reinventing the wheel?"

Mabel propped her chin in her hands. "Is it that bad?"

"Well, at first glance, it's not promising." He flipped toward the middle to skim some of the recommended exercises. "Pfff. I think the closest it'll get you to lucid dreaming is boring you to sleep."

Mabel groaned. "Dipper and I checked out like a dozen books on dreams and that was the least boring-looking one."

Bill shut the book and studied the cover. It showed a lush fantasy world with rainbows and colorful planets in the sky. "You know what they say about judging a book by its cover?"

"I know, I know." Mabel rolled over and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "I guess I'll try reading one of the other books." She let out a sigh. And then, deciding she hadn't expressed herself properly, she let out an even louder, deeper sigh.

Bill laughed, then considered the cover of Sleeping Awake again. "Ahh, what the heck," he muttered, "what else am I gonna do with myself today?" He waved the book at Mabel. "Hey. What if I read through some of them for you? Let you know which ones are a waste of time and which ones might be helpful?"

Mabel considered that. "Seriously? It's a lot of books and they all look boring."

"Sure, why not? If it's too boring to stand, I'll quit. But oneironautics is one of my specialities, I'll probably find the contents more interesting than you would. And, anyway—" Bill glanced away from Mabel self-consciously, voice dropping a tad, "anyway, I recommended lucid dreaming to fix a problem I caused, didn't I? I get why you kids won't let me teach you how to lucid dream—but it's not fair if I throw a couple names at you, make you do all the hard work, and pat myself on the back for helping out. The least I can do is endure a little boredom."

"Aw, Bill..." Mabel offered him a warm smile.

Bill looked at the ceiling. "Don't look at me like that, jeez. You're a sap, you know that?"

"You're the sap! You're like a tree: all bark on the outside and sap on the inside."

"I'll kill you if you ever say that again."

"I'll be right back!" Mabel sprinted upstairs; and a minute later, trudged back down, carrying a double armload of books. "Here." She dumped them in Bill's lap. A couple spilled on the floor.

"Whoa!" Bill scrambled to catch the escapees, and dropped another one. "Is this all of them?"

"All except the one Dipper's reading. The Encyclopedia of Dreams or something."

"That sounds like a waste of time. There's about as much overlap between dream interpretation and lucid dreaming as there is between astrology and astronomy. But hey, toss it my way when he's done with it. I wanna see what it says about dreams with pyramids and all-seeing eyes."

"Your ego's so big."

"Big as a universe, kid!" He started stacking the books beside him on the sofa, setting aside a promising-looking one that mentioned "Tibetan Dream Yoga" in the subtitle.

"I'll let him know. Thanks for the help, Bill!" Her afternoon now freed up, Mabel went upstairs to call Candy and Grenda and see what they were up to.

Bill listened as her footsteps ascended. He waited to hear the attic bedroom door shut.

And only then did he allow himself a small triumphant giggle.

He adored that girl. She was so trusting. He'd never have gotten his hands on this kind of educational material without her help. Finding her the most short-attention-span-friendly book was the least he could do as thanks; maybe he'd go the extra mile, leave bookmarks on the most useful chapters. Let her know just how good he could be to the people who did what he told them to.

He turned off the TV, cracked open the first book, and settled in to re-teach himself how to control dreams with a human mind.

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd really appreciate a comment!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #(for the art)#dipper pines #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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noses-in-winter · 6 months

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Hey, She Has To Wake Up, Anyway (18+)(F sneeze, F/M, tickling into sneezing awake, foreplay)

These characters are Lor Sheldon, awkward nonbinary guy who is terminally horny, especially about noses and everything they can do! He has a hard time not feeling shy about that. He's extremely bisexual and gives off that energy, don't worry. I've written about him here and here. Feat. his total soulmate Piper (who I just wrote about here!) who is also terminally horny and is SO pumped about getting Lor to explore his kinks. They're both mid-30s in this which is when they're peak obsessed with each other.

In this fic, Lor wakes Piper up from a nap by making her sneeze (it's cool, they've talked about this, she's into it). Lot of detail about how he's touching her nostrils and stuff. Went kinda wild there.

please don't reblog to non-sneeze blogs, minors do not follow or interact THANKS

She had encouraged him more than enough times for Lor to believe that Piper meant it when she said she would be happy to…indulge him, with anything he wanted to do regarding her nose, and the fantasies he had associated with it. Christ, he had a lot of fantasies. Thank fuck he hadn’t divulged them all the last time they were stoned together. Even so, Lor still cringed at the fuzzy memory of spilling such an intimate detail of his life. Willingly! No gun to his temple or anything!

God, he told her so…so…so much about it. “It” being sneezing. How it made him feel…something. Especially about her…something. And sometimes his…something, if he was being honest, but that was not a something that Lawrence Sheldon was willing to face.

Her positive response to his confession was damn near intoxicating, though. Piper had been so…supportive. Happy, even. Cradling his face with one hand and using the other to lace her fingers with his.

She’d made a few changes since then that would seem uneventful to the man who found these actions completely vanilla. Lor didn’t have the courage to comment yet but, Jesus, did he notice. He noticed how she evidently skipped her bottle of daily antihistamines once or two mornings a week. Piper’s allergies didn’t knock her down the way Lor’s could unmedicated, but she still sneezed more often with heightened intensity. She also started to let her voice go a little high as she was gearing up for a sneeze in a way that made his dick so fucking hard--

Shit, shit, he needed to cool it. Piper still slept soundly with her head in his lap. The last thing he needed was for his needy cock to stir her.

They’d had a few conversations on the topic since then. None that lasted long, before Lor felt too shy to continue. Piper never rushed him. She simply made sure he always knew that she was 100% ready whenever he wanted to explore this fascination together.

“Surprise me, Sheldon. I’m up for anything. You’re in charge.”

Woah, fuck, why did that turn him on so much every time he remembered it?

Piper would answer favorably if he were able to ask her permission. No doubt in his mind about it. There would be zero hesitation. So it would be…okay, right? To just do it?

He swallowed, the light of the television casting shadows around the room. He had to get Piper’s head out of his lap, anyway, right? She never wanted to stay on the couch too long after falling asleep. They both always seemed to sleep better when they drifted off in each other’s arms in bed. They woke up apart, reliably, but that much-needed intimacy while fading into sleep was…also intoxicating. Still foreign to the both of them, certainly, but also welcoming and comfortable. Safe. Loving. Home.

Yeah. Yeah, she’d want him to make a move.

Lor took a deep breath before beginning.

He started by lightly setting an index finger on her pointed nose. Piper simply continued to breathe in and out steadily as she lay facing the television. With a little more pressure, her nose started to scrunch. Piper sniffed once, nestling her temple into his thigh. Fuck, she was cute.

Lor swallowed, watching to see if she was stirring awake. Weed typically turned her into a pretty deep sleeper, but he was too paranoid not to check. Once Lor was satisfied with the low rumble of her snore, he continued.

He rubbed the tip of her nose in small, slow circles. Fuck, okay, he was already sweaty just watching the way her nostrils moved with the teasing little pushes. He added a touch more pressure when Piper seemed unbothered. Hmm. Okay. Rubbing wasn’t all that effective, was it? Maybe…something else? External?

Lor glanced around at his surroundings before his eyes settled on the down blanket draped over Piper’s sleeping form. Perfect. He already saw the quill of a feather waiting to be pulled out of one slight snag in the fabric.

Lor pinched the quill and eased it out of the pillow. Ohhhkay, it was lengthy and perfectly fluffy. His stomach gave a flustered little flip at the sheer mental image of each delicate little tuft brushing against the equally delicate inner walls of Piper’s--

Hoooooo, fuck. Focus on the mission, Sheldon.

After tracing around Piper’s nostrils a few times, Lor watched carefully to gauge a reaction. Again, she mostly sniffled and scrunched her nose. It wasn’t until he took a deep breath and managed to ease the feather into her nose that Piper’s nostrils flared in response to the stroke of afterfeather. Oh. Not only did her nostrils flare, they goddamn quivered.

Piper sniffled sharply. Made a little noise in the back of her throat. Her hand moved. Lor pulled the feather out of her nose just before Piper could knuckle at her nostrils. He supposed the way the feather brushed the walls of her nose on the way out wasn’t helping things, judging by the little snag of her breath.

She grumbled, now half-asleep as she rubbed at her nose. It didn’t seem like Piper was aware of Lor’s intervention, but he held his breath, anyway.

Piper’s lashes fluttered, but she didn’t fully open her eyes in the light of the television. She stopped scrubbing so aggressively at her nose, but the back of her hand now lingered a few inches before her face. She sniffled with mounting congestion, nostrils now a quivering pink. She breathed in slow, sleepy pants.

He tried again. Piper reacted sooner this time, almost the exact moment that the tender feather stroked at her septum. One nostril scrunched with a snort as she murmured wordlessly. Piper pressed the back of her hand to the underside of her nose, scrubbing and scrubbing until Lor heard a truly shiver-worthy squelch. When she lowered her arm, there was a streak of dampness on the back of her hand. Lor fought an eager little squirm at the very vision.

Gauging how far he could go this time, Lor once more considered his options as Piper settled again. Even as she rested comfortably beneath the quilt, her nostrils still scrunched and spasmed with sniffly breaths.

….Huh.

He moved slowly, carefully, to give Piper’s nostrils a light pinch with his thumb and index finger. Lor’s stomach dropped pleasantly, as if he were on the best roller coaster of his life, when Piper’s nostrils fought to flare against his fingertips. He didn’t budge. She took in a truly nostril-quaking sniffle in response, eyebrows beginning to knit together.

Nostril-quaking. Jesus, he was going to have to incorporate that one into his internal Horny Lexicon.

Piper’s breath finally started to snag, now that her nostrils weren’t allowed to squirm out of her control. That tickle progressed rapidly before his eyes.

This was the greatest idea of his life.

Lor eased his fingers off of Piper’s reddened nostrils. They immediately widened, taking up as much space as they could. Though her nostrils had as much freedom to quiver as possible, the damage had been done. Lor watched for several beats, waiting until the perfect moment to give the underside of Piper’s nose one slooooow stroke with the feather.

That pushed her over the edge. She convulsed with a sneeze covered by nothing but the back of her hand at a distance. Piper’s head bounced slightly in Lor’s lap as her whole body shuddered, buckling into itself. “Hed’DTSCHH’ooh!!”

Lor’s stomach flipped at the vision of a fine mist bursting from her urged nose. Jesus, he could write an entire thesis on the way the sheer strength of that sneeze was increased by her nose’s initial resistance alone. Piper took in one gulping breath before sneezing again, completely uncovered this time, nostrils shuddering out another expulsion of mist.

Piper let out the littlest moan of relief after that second sneeze tumbled out of her. She fanned lazily beneath her nose, using the same hand that she had just sneezed against. Piper sniffled and finally opened her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the television for several moments before she sneezed again, taunted by the glow of the screen. “Addh’DTSHH! Hh…hh! HuhHHD’schoo!”

“Bless you…” Lor said quietly, cheeks burning. He could lean over to the end table to grab the box of tissues, but the thought didn’t even occur to him. At the moment, he was nothing but thoroughly enchanted with the way Piper’s nose just…moved. When she sneezed. When she was gearing up for or recovering from a sneeze. When she was just relaxed enough with him to be so comfortable with letting her nose control her for a moment.

Piper didn’t say anything straight away. She started to ease up from her place on the couch, letting out one uncovered sneeze halfway through the process. F-Fuck, the mist of that sneeze in the light of the television was mesmerizing, wasn’t it?

Piper took in two rapid, gambling hitches as another sneeze crept up on her. Oh. Oh, she just wasn’t stopping. This time, Piper was able to yank the collar of her shirt over her nose. She kept herself steady with one arm on the couch, but was promptly knocked off-kilter when she sneezed damply into her shirt. Lor wrapped both arms around Piper’s torso, keeping her as steady as possible. He leaned back into the couch, bringing Piper with him.

“Bless you,” Lor breathed, blinking at Piper in a lovestruck gaze. Feelings of affection and attraction flooded him as Lor dipped his head to set a kiss in Piper’s hair. “A lot. You okay, babe?”

“Mmm..sdf! Fuck, sorry…” she exhaled, finally managing to sit up fully on the couch. Lor dutifully let her go. Piper started to blink slowly, adjusting her eyes to the light. “Didn’t mean to sneeze like a spray bottle there. Jesus, I really needed that, though. My nose f-feels---sdf, ugh, I dunno…itchy….”

“I-It’s okay,” he answered too quickly. Lor gulped and fumbled for the tissue box on the table. “I don’t mind. I mean, you know I don’t, but…y’know.”

Piper nodded, rubbing lazily beneath her nose. She seemed to be flaring her nostrils consciously, as if testing if there was another sneeze hidden anywhere. “Yeah, I do. I dunno, I dreamed something was…in my nose? And it tickled like a motherfuck, like a-...”

She trailed off. Lor followed Piper’s gaze until it reached the feather that sat in his lap. Lor was quiet for several seconds before a low chuckle rumbled in Piper’s chest. She gave him a knowing little smirk as she reached for him.

“Shel. You beautiful slut. Did you…?”

He felt like he was shrinking beneath her gaze. Lor gulped and glanced away, shame flooding every inch of him. “Um. I-I’m sorry. It was…”

“Hey, hey. Don’t be,” Piper hummed, reaching for him with ease. “That’s hot. Seriously. No idea you had it in you, Sheldon.” She snorted with laughter. This, apparently, stirred another tickle in her. Piper sniffled sharply, reaching to pinch at the freckled bridge of her nose. She massaged up and down. “Hoh, fuck. It’s right there.” Piper eased her free hand down to his thigh, delivering a squeeze to it. Her other hand continued to rub up and down the side of her nose with steady care.

“...C-Can I help you?” Lor asked on a nervous breath.

She gave him a slow, sexy bat of her eyelashes before her expression crumbled with a shaky hitch. The sneeze seemed to back off almost immediately, allowing Piper to scoot closer to him. Oh, fuck. Okay. Yeah. He could do this. Piper tilted her head back as she faced him, nostrils exposed perfectly to Lor. She moved closer to him on the couch, hand still in contact with his leg. He swallowed fiercely, enchanted with the way her nostrils squirmed and flared with each breath she took. Was she doing this on purpose? Or was this just naturally happening to her body? Both were incredibly sexy explanations.

Lor set one hand on the small of Piper’s back before easing the feather back into her nostril. This just sent her nostrils quivering further. Her chest started to rise and fall at a faster pace than a moment ago.

Lor didn’t stop. He continued to steadily twist it around in her right nostril. Her breath snagged as Piper gave her head a shallow nod. Okay. He could see it in her face. That tickled. He was--he was going to make her sneeze. And she was helping him do it. And she was okay with that.

Piper let her head loll lazily to one side. Lor followed her motions with his hand, feather still held tight between his fingers. He carefully stroked down the inner walls of her nose before Piper let out a stuffy little chuckle. “Th-That feels kinda good, Lor...”

“Y-Yeah?” Lor clarified, a smile starting to twitch at his lips. “Think I can…make it better?”

Piper could only nod, jaw slack and nostrils squirming with an impending sneeze. He continued to give the inner walls of her right nostril taunting little strokes with the feather. It wasn’t until he started to ease the feather out of her nostril did she react with one heady, desperate hitch. Lor quickly released the feather, allowing it to linger in her full, damp nose. He then watched Piper shudder out a…truly unprecedented sneezing fit.

The feather wasn’t completely expelled with her first sneeze. It was powerful, sure, and misted the front of Lor’s sweater, but the feather remained lodged in her overactive nose. In fact, the fourth sneeze of the fit was what finally expelled the feather from her nostril. It lay, damp and useless on Lor’s thigh.

Piper let out a quivered little breath, nose scrunching with a much-needed sniffle.

“Bless you,” Lor said on a weak exhale as Piper started to clean up the underside of her nose with a group of hastily grabbed tissues. She tossed them carelessly to the floor without a second thought once her nose was somewhat tidier.

Her nose, clearly, wasn’t quite finished with her yet. She sneezed again, disastrously, as soon as she threw the tissues aside. Piper gave one stuffy groan. She gazed at him through eyelashes heavy in maroon glitter from the day. “Hey, Sheldon,” she breathed, nostrils flaring with a lazy inhale. “You….sdf! You still wanna shower before bed?”

Lor didn’t even question her motivation for this seemingly unrelated question. He just nodded, eyes fixated on her nostrils.

“Good.” Without looking away from Lor, she drew the bottom of his sweater up until it lingered just before her nose. He shivered, both at the sudden chill on his abdomen as well as the vision of Piper’s nose hovering desperately above the fabric of his turtleneck. That he was wearing. Right now.

Again, Piper’s nostrils fluttered. Her chest rose and fell with taunting hitches. Fuck, she had to sneeze. She had to sneeze so badly, didn’t she? He wanted her more than anything.

Piper buckled into his sweater with a sneeze. Oh--and then another. She let out this lasting moan of a hitch that Lor knew was added dramatics. He didn’t mind. He liked that she was adding dramatics for him. That kinda made this even better, right? That she was so excited to tease him? Jesus, and tease she did.

She took in a slow, testing breath through her nose. When she didn’t immediately sneeze, Piper rutted her nose into his sweater, rubbing with quiet desperation. After several seconds of this, Piper groaned and dropped his sweater. Instead, she leaned forward to trail her nose along his jawline. Fuck, the tip of it was still damp.

“I still have to sneeze…” she murmured, starting to kiss at his neck. Almost instantly after, she leaned back with a gasping snag to her breath. “Hh! Hhh--!” He’d have to take this sweater off in a moment, right?

Folding the sleeve of the oversized sweater over his hand, Lor pressed it right beneath Piper’s nose. There was no hesitation on Piper’s part as she clamped his hand firmly over his. She shuddered out a muffled sneeze.

Yeah, he was hard. He was very, very hard.

A moment later, Piper left out three more rapid sneezes into the fabric. They all sounded absolutely desperate, even while being quieted by his sleeve. Lor’s breath was stuck in his lungs the entire time. The warmth of those productive sneezes met his palm through his sleeve almost immediately.

After one final sneeze that was particularly cushion-shaking--”AhHYD’SCHuhh!”--Piper exhaled through parted lips. Her knitted brows slowly began to relax, now only twitching slightly. “That’s better…” she murmured, using Lor’s covered hand to rub beneath her nose. Lor was expecting her to realize that his hand was, in fact, attached to this convenient fabric that she had turned into a tissue, but…Piper met his eyes, teary though hers were. She knew exactly how he would feel about this.

She started to move his hand, up and down against her nose. Lor watched in absolute awe as Piper’s jaw started to slacken again. Was it possible that he could feel her nostrils flaring from beneath his sleeve?

When it seemed like Piper was just about to sneeze, she let his hand go. Lor blinked as she leaned back from him, her activated nose continuing to scrunch and twitch. She reached for the damp bottom of his sweater, beginning to pull it up. Lor could think of nothing he wanted more in that moment than to comply. “C’mon…” Piper said with a damp sniffle. “L-Let m-hh!--me sneeze on more of you.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Lor exhaled with adoration in every syllable as he carefully removed his sweater. He tossed it aside without fanfare. There were barely a few beats before Piper leaned forward, nestling her nose against his bare shoulder. Her nostrils were damp and squirming and right. There.

“I love you, too,” Piper said quietly, sniffing congestedly along his collarbone.

Lor shuddered and gulped, placing his hands on her shoulders. Despite everything in his body screaming at him to stay just like this, he gently pushed Piper back so they could meet eyes.

“I--I want this,” he said on a shaky gasp. “I really, really want this. I just--I’d feel better if I could go, I-I dunno, shower, and get myself kinda ready for--for everything this is gonna lead to? I-I just prefer those kinds of…experiences to be, um. Clean. Me, clean. Y-You clean, too, actually. If that’s okay.”

Piper leaned back from him at Lor’s prompting. She sniffled, knuckling one nostril as she offered him a teary smile. “Me, clean, too, don’t worry. I could use a shower, now, anyway. Helps to…unstuffify me. Add that to your horny lexicon.”

She knew him so well!

Lor nodded. “You can go first, if you want.”

Piper snorted, her lips pulling upward into a smirk before the expression crumpled again. She sneezed down towards Lor’s now-bare chest, making him shiver at the feeling of the uncontained sneeze making direct contact with what felt like every inch of him.

She sniffled lazily and finally completed that smile, taking both of Lor’s hands. “I mean that I could use a shower with you.”

Oh. “Oh!” Lor gasped, a snaggly smile immediately spreading across his face. Lor started to stand, offering his hands to help Piper up as well. “Okay! Let’s--yeah! Let’s go!”

Piper laughed, starting to pull off her own T-shirt as she followed Lor. “Hold your horses, buckaroo. Take a breath. You’ll be able to rob me of my treasured virginity in a sec. Lemme at least blow my nose first…”

#sneeze fic #sneeze kink #sick fic #not sneeze for work #oc lor #oc piper #noses-in-writing

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

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{25} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 18,000

Warnings: Heavy Angst. PTSD and Trauma. Heavy Guilt. Talks of what happened between OC and Miyeon when the boys were gone; descriptions and recollection of past torture. Mental illness: description of suicide and a failed suicide attempt, depression, anxiety. Hurt/comfort. Talks of insecurities and uncertainty. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Please heed the warnings carefully, this is quite an intensive chapter. I almost started crying while writing out a certain part of it, so be warned. Anyways, I wasn’t expecting for it to be this long, nor was I expecting to end it where I did, but I promise the next chapter will be full of an insane amount of fluff. I still have a lot planned for this series, so I really hope you all like this chapter! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Twenty-Three - Twenty-Four - Mini Masterlist

Darkness surrounds you. A calming, quiet darkness that settles within your mind as you rest. One that you allow yourself to get lost in, drowning in the stillness for however long that you can.

Time passes, you’re sure of it. Though, you’re not quite sure how long you spend within the confines of your own mind. What you think you do know, however, is that you are safe. No sense of danger forebodes within your subconsciousness for the moment. A fact of which makes breathing all the easier.

Or perhaps you’re already dead.

No. That’s not right.

Through the darkness, memories begin to appear. Vaguely, you see the remains of a completely decimated dance studio, an almost unrecognizable corpse twisted off to the side. In the back of your mind, you recall being surrounded by eight sobbing figures, holding onto you as tightly as you had been clinging onto them.

It wasn’t all a dream, was it? You hope beyond everything that it wasn’t. That when you wake up, you’ll be back in your room, surrounded once more by all eight of Your Kings who are sure to be watching over you right this very instant.

You don’t think you’d survive if that isn’t the case.

Slowly, you feel yourself walking somewhere within the confines of you mind. A faint glow begins to get brighter and brighter, drawing you towards it with every passing second. Once you reach it, and without any hesitation, you step through the blinding threshold, allowing the warmth to embrace you once more.

The soft light of the afternoon sun filters through your room, casting a faint glow over the entire area. Eight males are scattered around your sleeping figure, some sitting on chairs, while a few lay on the couches just off to the side. Two males lay beside you, gently cradling your resting form in their arms as two more shapes lay on top of your body in whatever ways that they can.

To the side, your door rests open just a crack.

A soft groan draws all of their attention to your form beginning to move on the bed. Immediately, Yunho is sitting up from his position on your one couch, while Mingi pops up to peer over the back of the other, eyes locked on your figure. San shifts to the edge of his seat, of which he had pulled right beside your bed in order to rest as close as he could to you. It was no longer his turn to lay beside you for the moment, so this was the next best option. Seonghwa sits right next to him, mirroring the younger male’s position as he leans forward, hands desperately clinging onto the arms of his chair.

All of them watch as your eyes begin to flit around beneath your lids before blinking open.

“Dearest,” Yeosang chokes on a sob as he clings to you, immediately pulling you into his arms and pressing his lips against the side of your temple.

In the blink of an eye, both Mingi and Yunho are there, sitting on the end of your bed and staring at you with tears in their eyes. A sight which you notice both San and Seonghwa mirror in the next moment.

A hand seems to be held in yours, resting carefully over your heart as you feel it squeeze your own. That’s when you notice Hongjoong resting on your opposite side, tears streaming down his face as he holds onto you for dear life.

Sparing a glance downwards, you notice the small lumps you feel resting against you seem to be two unfamiliar animals. A snake curls around your lower stomach while a large, brown rabbit rests over your thighs. You’d bet anything that they’re Jongho and Wooyoung, having shifted into animals to be closer to you for the moment.

You blink, heart pounding in your chest as your memories finally all catch up with you. Shakily, you raise your free hand to cup the side of Yeosang’s face, tears springing to your eyes as your whole body begins to shake.

“Please,” your voice comes out low, brittle and raw as your eyes squeeze shut, “someone tell me this is real.”

Their hearts all break for you once more, seeing you trembling within both Yeosang’s and Hongjoong’s embrace.

“It’s real, Starlight,” Mingi whispers, resting his hand softly over your foot still beneath your covers. “We’re right here.”

“You’re safe now, My Divine,” it’s Seonghwa’s gentle voice that draws your attention to him next. “She cannot hurt you anymore.”

You nod softly, blinking once more as a single tear begins to trail down the side of your one cheek. Slowly, carefully, you begin to sit up with the help of both Yeosang and Hongjoong.

You don’t feel like they’re lying to you, but you’re not sure if you can trust your own mind right now. Your thoughts are all over the place, and all you can focus on is how it felt for Miyeon to smash through your void, shattering your mind until you almost lost yourself.

Thoughts which echo freely through all of their heads as you don’t bother to put up your void. Not that you’d have the mental strength to for the moment, anyways.

Crossing your legs beneath the blankets, you find yourself half curling into your own body. The rabbit - Jongho - is quick to shift right into your lap, settling against you and rubbing his face softly into the palm of your one hand. It’s as if he’s saying that he’s right here, and that nothing will take you away from him again.

Meanwhile, the snake - Wooyoung - slowly winds himself around your stomach, slithering up your back so that his head is resting right beside your own. Gently, he nuzzles his snout against your jaw, as if assuring you that you’re okay, and that this is real.

Glancing up, you meet Yunho’s gaze.

Throughout it all, there was one memory you desperately fought to protect above all others. A memory that was to be your failsafe incase something like this were to happen. Even if you cannot trust in your surroundings, you can trust in him. In all of them.

“That day,” you begin, keeping your voice low so as not to strain it for the moment. “How many symbols did you draw on my body?”

You ignore the glass of water offered to you by Yeosang for the moment as you continue to stare into Yunho’s eyes, watching as he blinks back at you. His breath hitches slightly in his throat.

“Two,” he breathes, searching your features intently. “One on your front, and one on your back. Both directly over your heart.”

You nod, swallowing thickly. You have to be sure.

“What was the symbol you drew on my back?” You push, noticing how the room remains absolutely still for the moment as the silence settles around you.

Yunho goes to answer, but your hand raising in the air stops him.

There’s only one way you know to be absolutely sure.

“Please,” extending your hand out to him, you keep your palm facing upwards, “Draw it.”

If you truly are still trapped within Miyeon’s mental prison, and the memories of them saving you have been all fabricated, there’s no way in hell she’ll know about the symbol he drew over your back. She only knew of the one on your front, because you would have died before you let her know of the first one he ever painted over your skin.

Carefully, Yunho shifts closer to you. He can feel his brother’s gazes locked on him as he reaches forward to gently grasp your hand within his own. His thumb caresses the side of your palm before he’s raising his other hand, using his index finger to trace a design over your skin. The whole time, his eyes never leave your own.

The moment the final line of the symbol of his name in the ancient tongue is drawn over your palm, you’re breathing a tremendous sigh of relief. Your shoulders sag, whole body relaxing as you nearly collapse into Yeosang’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I had to be sure.”

“Whatever helps to ease your mind, My Love, we are more than happy to provide for you,” Hongjoong assures you, reaching over and tenderly cupping the side of your cheek.

However, you do not fail to miss the way he hesitates slightly. Almost as if he’s nervous to touch you. Though, the moment you lean into his hold, his own shoulders seemingly relax.

A small giggle escapes your lips, feeling the snake begin flicking his tongue against your skin, just below your jawline. You turn your head, noticing a small beauty mark below the snake’s left eye, confirming just who you thought he could be.

“Wooyoung,” you meet his gaze, feeling his tongue flick out against your skin once more. “That tickles.”

I’m just glad to see you’re okay, Angel, his voice resounds throughout your head, and you can hear the worry still clinging to the edges.

A brief pause where you attempt a weak smile as you finally grab the glass of water from Yeosang’s hands. You take a sip, almost instantly downing half the glass.

“Are you-“ San clears his throat. “Are you okay, Baby?”

You meet his gaze, and the broken look he can see shining behind your eyes has his heart faltering in his chest.

“No,” you barely manage to get the word out, the glass in your hand beginning to shake as your whole body trembles. You squeeze your eyes shut, leaning further into Yeosang for support. “I-“ you swallow, “I-“

You can barely get the words out as your emotions begin to choke you.

“Take your time, Dearest,” Yeosang comfortingly rubs a hand along your back, caressing your spine like he so often does whenever he holds you in his arms.

“We’re right here,” Yunho assures you, nothing but concern shining in his eyes for you.

“You are not alone,” Mingi adds, keeping his tone soft as he looks at you.

You feel Jongho nuzzling the crook of your knee, nosing at your one hand resting just beside his face. You’re safe now, Darling. We won’t let anything else hurt you.

You nod along softly to his words, tightening your grip the slightest bit on that glass of water in your hand. Bringing it up to your lips, you down the rest of the liquid.

“Can we get you anything, Baby?” San’s voice is soft, wanting nothing more than to reach out and comfort you in his arms, but he knows his brother’s have got it covered for the moment.

At your soft nod, each male shifts the slightest bit closer to you.

“A few things,” you begin, clearing your throat lightly of your emotions in the next second. “Can I get more water-“

The words are barely out of your mouth when Mingi has another full glass in his one hand. Reaching over, he hands it to you, taking your empty one without a second thought.

“Thank you,” you send him a small smile.

“Of course, Starlight,” he sends a soft one back. “Anything for you.”

Taking a few sips from the fresh glass in your hand, you let out a low breath.

“Mars?” You turn to one of the males sitting on your left.

“Yes, My Divine?” Immediately, he leans forward, body eager to spring into action for whatever you need him to do.

“Can you open the doors to the balcony?” The moment the words leave your lips, he’s moved. “I could use some fresh air.”

Seonghwa has to physically restrain himself from tearing your balcony doors off of their hinges as he nearly flings them open. Luckily, he’s able to take a deep breath, slowly opening each side one by one. A gentle breeze curtesy of both Yunho and Hongjoong flits through your room in the next second.

The gentle smile you send him as he sits back in his seat has his heart pounding inside his chest, happy he could do something that eased your discomfort. Even if it’s only slightly.

Taking another sip from your glass of water, your let out a long exhale through your nose. Your eyes fall shut, allowing the way you feel your lungs to fill with air to ground you for the moment.

Keeping your eyes shut, you begin to speak once more.

“Inside-“ you swallow the dryness of your throat, “inside my closet, top drawer on the left, there’s a small stone buried beneath a few of my shirts. I-“ you take a deep breath, “can someone grab it for me? I need it.”

Yunho is already halfway across the room before you finish speaking. Stepping into your closet, he’s quick to pull open the aforementioned drawer and grab that stone.

It’s not a very large stone by any means. In fact, it’s about the size and shape of those small rocks you can find at any of those children’s stores where they allow you to fill a bag full of gems to buy. It’s light blue in colour, smooth on one side while the opposite is slightly coarse.

The moment the rock is placed into your open palm, you let out another sigh of relief. Instantly, you’re shifting it slightly in your hand, thumb beginning to trace over the smooth side of the stone.

You can feel their curious gazes on you, even as you close your eyes for the moment to let the feeling of the stone in your fingers ground you. You’ve sat up fully by now, too, no longer leaning into Yeosang’s side. The one hand holding the rock rests on your one knee while the glass of water you still hold rests on the other.

You take another sip of water.

Movement from your lap catches your attention, and you crack an eye open to see Jongho shifting to face your one hand now toying with that small stone between your fingers. At the way you can see his nose sniffing at it, you can tell he’s more than curious as to what it could be.

“It’s my therapy pebble,” you explain, noticing how you have all of their attention on you for the moment. “My therapist gave it to me our very first meeting for me to use when my anxiety acts up. It grounds me. Though, I haven’t used it in quite a while. Not since-“ you cut yourself off, exhaling a long breath, “not since the worst night of my life.”

Each male does not fail to notice the way you avoid their gazes for the time being. The way they can all feel their chests squeezing as their hearts suffocate for you has their breaths hitching in their throats.

“What can we do?” Hongjoong makes sure to keep his voice low, hand carefully caressing the skin of your upper back as he swallows thickly. “What can we do to make it better?”

“Just sit with me? Please?” You lean back onto your pillows which Yeosang has conveniently fluffed up behind you. Of course, you’re careful not to squish Wooyoung’s body, of which is still wrapped around your waist in snake form. “That’s all I ask. For now.”

“Of course, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles softly at you, both him and Yeosang leaning the slightest bit into your either side.

You smile back faintly, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you relax yourself into this moment. Still, your thumb traces over the contours of the stone in your hand.

“How long-“ you swallow, “how long was I out?”

A brief pause.

“Three days.” The airy rasp of San’s voice reaches your ears.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I see.”

Then, a thought crosses your mind that immediately has your eyes flinging open. Your form shoots up from your resting position as panic washes over your features.

“Kuroo, he-“ your breathing begins to come in jagged pants, fresh tears springing to your eyes, “is he-“

No. He can’t be dead. He couldn’t have died. All he ever wanted was to protect you, and you barely even remembered that he had been injured until just now. How could you ever forget?

“Shh, it’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang immediately wraps you in his arms, one hand stroking tenderly over the top of your head.

“Kuroo is fine, Starlight, don’t worry,” Mingi assures you, a weak pull of his lips upwards as his heart pangs inside of his chest at seeing you so distraught.

“But he-“ you choke on your breath, hands beginning to shake.

The last time you saw him, he was barely breathing. His whole body had been crushed by whatever invisible force Miyeon had control of. You can still hear his whimpering mewls echoing in your ears. A sound which causes you to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to clear it from your mind.

Vaguely, you feel Jongho hop out of your lap, only to return almost immediately afterwards. His head brushes against your stomach, and you swear you feel the faintest swish of a tail over your legs as well.

The soft mewl you hear from below has your eyes flinging open to see little golden orbs staring up at you in worry.

A single tear traces a line down your cheek as you choke on a sob, “Kuroo?”

A warmth is suddenly at your back, and you feel arms wrapping themselves around your waist.

“He’s a lot stronger than he looks, Darling.” Jongho’s low voice rumbles out right beside your ear.

Slowly, Kuroo begins to attempt to crawl up your body, his little face sniffing at the tear that clings to your jaw before dripping lightly onto his nose. He pulls back the slightest, only to return to sniffing gently at your face in the next moment.

Slowly, you hand the glass of water to Yeosang who takes it from your trembling grasp without hesitation.

As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you’re wrapping your arms around that little black cat and clinging onto his form for dear life. A sob tears from your throat, more tears escaping your eyes, and you feel Kuroo beginning to lick at your cheek. The purrs he lets out are the loudest you’ve ever experienced from him, and you cannot help the way you hold him the slightest bit tighter in your grasp in response.

“I thought she killed you,” you sob, pressing your face into his fur and leaving a few kisses against his side. “You wanted to protect me, and I thought she killed you for it.”

Just as tightly as you cling onto Kuroo, your left hand still holds onto that small rock for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as your whole body shakes from the intensity of your sobs. “I couldn’t protect you.”

“Baby-“ San shifts forward, nothing but concern reflected in his eyes, only for him to get ignored for the moment.

Guilt so fierce begins to consume you, washing over all of them as they are still privy to every single thought you are having for the moment. A fact which has all of their hearts breaking for you that very instant once more.

“I’m so sorry,” it’s then that they realize that you’re no longer just speaking to the cat. “I couldn’t stop her. I tried, but I couldn’t protect anything. She-“ you hiccup, “she-“ your breath hitches, “I’m so sorry.”

Your throat burns, tears continuously falling freely down your face as your entire body trembles uncontrollably. You don’t even register that you’ve released Kuroo until you feel yourself being pulled into someone’s chest. Two more bodies surround you on either side, heads pressing against yours as they attempt to calm you down.

More frantic apologies escape you in pain filled cries, chest feeling as if it’s caving in with each breath you take. If three days truly have passed since everything went down, then obviously they’ve had time to see the ruined remains of the house. The house they so carefully and meticulous crafted for the nine of you to live in together. The house you failed to protect from Miyeon’s destruction.

You sob harder.

“I can’t-“ you begin to wheeze, chest heaving with every breath, “I can’t breathe.”

Your emotions are overwhelming you, and the intensity of your wails are taking up the majority of your energy. With each expansion of your lungs, you find less and less air filling them, choking you from the inside out.

Frantically, you push the males surrounding you off of your body as you attempt to heave air into your lungs. You don’t know how, but you manage to pull yourself onto your feet, jumping over all of them and landing on the floor. You rush passed both San and Seonghwa and onto the balcony, hands clinging desperately to the railing as you lean against it for support. Lowering your head, you attempt to catch your breath.

Faintly, you register worried footsteps following behind you, seven figures standing around you in a semi-circle as Wooyoung shifts slightly against your body. Still, he remains wrapped around you in snake form, his snout pressing against your cheek lightly.

We’re right here, Angel. His worried voice echoes throughout your head. Just breathe.

A hand on your back has your whole body jumping. Turning your tear filled gaze, you see Yunho standing there with tears lining his own vision. Only, you misinterpret the real reason that he’s crying.

You fall to your knees, hands desperately clinging to his form as you rest your head on his thighs.

“I’m so sorry,” you sob harder, clinging onto Yunho for dear life. “I tried-“ your breath stutters, “I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t. She tore apart everything without a second thought. I couldn’t stop her.”

Out of the corner of your blurry vision, you see Seonghwa step beside you.

Your whole body shudders, chest heaving with every failed breath you attempt to take.

“She tore your passions apart, and I couldn’t stop her,” you shift the slightest bit, grasping one of both of Seonghwa’s and Yunho’s hands in each of your own. “I’m so sorry,” you just hope that they can forgive you for your failed misdoings, “I was too weak.”

Collectively, they all inhale sharply.

“No, Petal,” Yunho kneels in front of you, cupping your face gently in his hands as he notices that you’re still having difficulty breathing. The worst part is, you avoid his gaze in shame. “Hey, look at me.”

Cautiously, your eyes flick over to meet his own as Seonghwa kneels beside his brother.

“Breathe, Petal,” Yunho keeps your gaze locked on him, helping you through some exercises to calm your breathing for the moment, and catch your breath.

“We’re right here,” Seonghwa repeats, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, rubbing it up and down your arm shortly afterwards as you begin to calm down, even if only slightly.

“But-“

“Shh,” Yunho coos, thumbs stroking tenderly over your cheeks. “Our stuff is replaceable. You are not.”

“So, not another word of apology from you,” Seonghwa’s hand returns to your shoulder, drawing your attention to him for the moment. “You have nothing to be sorry for, My Divine.”

“It is us who have failed you,” Hongjoong’s voice has your gaze shifting to him now, seeing as he walks over to your side and kneels beside Seonghwa.

You blink, another tear escaping your one eye as his words completely catch you off guard. You fully turn to him now, an image of the destroyed garden flashing through your mind as pain clutches at your heart.

“If we had only made our wards stronger,” he begins, and you notice all of them now avoiding your gaze in shame. Even Wooyoung loosens his hold slightly around your waist as Hongjoong says this. “If only we had been smarter, then none of this would have happened to you.”

You manage to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, shaking your head all the while.

“Please tell me you seriously don’t believe that,” your voice is strained from the heaviness of your emotions.

One look into Hongjoong’s eyes says it all.

“No, My Kings,” you’ve finally managed to calm down enough to begin thinking clearly again for the moment. “Because of your wards, she couldn’t leave, and I’d hate to think of what would have happened to me if that were the case. I don’t think-“ your breath catches slightly in your throat, another tear escaping your eye, “I don’t think I would have survived if that were the case.”

Tears begin to fall from his own eyes, and you are quick to cup his face in your hands.

“You saved me.” You spare a glance at all of them. “You all did. I am still alive because of you.”

“You had to endure her for two hours, Dearest,” never have you seen Yeosang with such a broken look on his face before. “Two hours.”

“I won’t lie and say that they weren’t the worst two hours of my life,” you reply lowly, noticing how he, San, and Mingi all flinch in response to your words. “But, I am still alive. My heart still beats, and I am still breathing. All thanks to the eight of you, I am alive.”

You feel Wooyoung slither off of you for the moment, only for arms to wrap themselves over your shoulders as a body collapses into your back in the next. You can feel his muffled sobs against your spine as his chest shakes with every breath. His head buries itself into the side of your neck as he clings onto you for dear life, holding you tightly as if you might disappear at any moment.

“Does the fact that I-“ you take a deep breath, “that I almost died terrify me?” You blink, your tears briefly stopping for the moment as your whole body continues to tremble. “Yes. It did. It still does. For the first time in my life, I was terrified to die. Would you like to know why?”

“Please, My Divine,” Seonghwa breathes, silent tears creating trails down his cheeks as he continues to kneel before you.

“Because I finally felt like I had a reason to live for myself.” You reply. “Eight reasons to live.”

The way their breaths all hitch simultaneously has a weak smile tugging onto your features.

“Instead of choosing to die, like I have so often been known to do, I chose to live.” You tell them, watching as silent tears begin to streak down all of their faces. “I never thought much of my own life before. Until recently.” You share a brief look with Seonghwa, the faintest of smiles pulling at your lips. “So, for the first time, faced with the option of death, I wanted to live.”

“That’s what made this situation so terrifying to me,” you explain, voice becoming no more than a whisper. “For the first time, it felt like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Yet, I knew what I wanted. I knew what I had to do. I had to survive. I would survive. Not just for you, but for me.”

“Petal,” the soft call of your name from Yunho’s lips has you turning to look at him in an instant.

“I care about all of you. Deeply.” You take the time to meet each one of their gazes, raising a hand to squeeze one of Wooyoung’s own, which are still wrapped around your shoulders. “I wouldn’t have fought so hard to live if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have tried to protect our home so viciously if I didn’t.” Your eyes flash slightly as you continue to look at all of them. “I wouldn’t let you touch me if I didn’t. I wouldn’t let you experience me in certain ways if I didn’t. I wouldn’t do a lot of things that I do now, and I sure as hell know I would not have survived that day if I didn’t.”

“So, please, do not blame yourselves for what happened. For what she did.” They’re all crying at this point, and the four that had been standing have all fallen to their knees. “Because I never did. Not even for one second.”

You see them all nod faintly in your vision, feeling Wooyoung nod against your shoulder as he buries his face deeper into the side of your neck.

Softly, Hongjoong brings his one hand up to cover your own, of which is still cupping his face so tenderly in your grasp. Right now, he leans into that touch more than you’ll ever know.

“My Love, please know that we feel the same,” Hongjoong stares deeply into your eyes. “Know we would never blame you for what she did to our home.”

Despite the way your heart still squeezes in your chest, you find yourself nodding along to his words. You expression falls the slightest, and each male swears to do whatever he can to comfort you in any and every way they can.

“Okay,” this time, it’s your turn to nod softly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’d like to take a bath, and perhaps meditate for a little while. Then, I’m going to drink a gallon of water, eat something, and then we can talk more about what happened. I have some things I want to share with you all, anyways.”

Slowly, Wooyoung detaches himself from your back, helping you stand to your feet in the next second. You notice San perk up the slightest bit out of the corner of your eyes.

“What can I make you, Baby?” He asks, a little eagerly.

You begin to make your way back inside your room, stopping only briefly beside San as you shoot him a faint smile.

“Surprise me,” you reply, placing a tender kiss onto his cheek. “Nothing too heavy, though, okay?”

“Of course,” the tender look he sends your way warms your heart.

Walking back over to your bed, you briefly search over the blankets until you find what you’re looking for. Once you spot that little stone, you’re quick to snatch it into your one hand, standing back to your full height instantly.

“Would you like some company?” Yeosang asks gently as you begin to walk towards your bathroom.

Just as you reach the doorway, you turn to glance at them from over your shoulder. A soft smile graces your features at the care they continue to show you.

“Not this time,” the fond look you send their way eases some of the tension in their shoulders. However, a loud mewl draws your attention to a little black blur that darts inside of the bathroom in the next second. Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Well, I guess Kuroo can join me.”

A few chuckles sound around the room, watching as you shut the door softly behind you as you enter the bathroom.

The whole time you relax in the tub, Kuroo rests on the edge beside you. Dutifully, he watches over you, making sure that you’re well protected and safe. The way you place a soft kiss onto the top of his head has him looking at you with those big, golden eyes of his, nothing but affection dripping from his gaze.

True to your word, you spend about half an hour meditating in the bath. That pebble never leaves your hand, thumb running over the contours as you clear your mind. Of course, you leave your void down for the moment. Just in case. The way you can feel them all occasionally brushing up against your mind as if to say that ‘you’re okay; we’re right here’ lifts a weight from your shoulders you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying. Though, you know for a fact that none of them are overstepping any boundaries for the moment, leaving you to your thoughts as much as they can.

Once you’ve finished washing up, you’re quick to dry yourself off. Wrapping your fluffy robe around yourself, you begin to do your usual routine after you finish bathing. Only, the moment you lift your head to look at your reflection in the mirror, you notice a faint glowing figure out of the corner of your eyes.

Your breath hitches, a scream nearly tearing from your throat. Immediately, you turn around to look in the exact spot you saw the figure.

Except, nothing is there.

You blink. Funny, you could have swore you saw someone standing right beside the edge of the tub.

Perhaps you’re just seeing things. You have been through a lot lately, so you wouldn’t be surprised. It’s probably just a lingering effect from everything you’ve gone through in the past few days alone.

It’s that thought that helps you to manage to get your breathing under control for the time being. Again, that stone is held in your one hand as you finally exit the bathroom. Kuroo happily trots beside you as you make your way over to your closet, shutting the door behind you as you pick out some clothes to wear.

Grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, you’re quick to change. Before you exit, you grab a hoodie, throwing it over your body before turning to grab your robe once more. Swinging the door open, you’re quick to return to the bathroom to hang your robe back in its place before returning to your room.

This time, you begin to roll the stone between the tips of your fingers as you exit your bathroom. You notice all eight of them scattered throughout your room waiting for your return. A jug of water and a bowl of food rests on the little table in your sitting area. So, you begin to make your way over to the couches, seeing Mingi, San, Yunho, and Jongho already sitting there.

The other four are quick to join you, and as you pass by your bed, you notice that it’s been made. Someone’s probably changed the sheets for you, too.

Sitting on the floor, you stretch your legs out beneath the table. Of course, you make sure to grab a pillow to rest upon before you do, leaning your back against the couch in the next moment. Only, instead of feeling the cushions like you expected, you feel somebody’s legs behind your back. In the next moment, you feel them shift beside your body on either side, letting you lean further into the couch behind you.

Turning your head, you see Mingi smiling softly down at you. His hands reach out for you in the next second, gently placing them onto your shoulders. Slowly, his thumbs begin to rub tenderly against the back of your neck, massaging you gently.

A tension you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto slips from your body. A soft hum escapes you in contentment, eyes fluttering shut as Mingi continues to rub your neck. With each passing second, you find yourself relaxing more and more.

Blinking your eyes open, you notice that none of them sit on the couches around you. No, they all opt to sit on the floor with you, save for Mingi who rests behind you in order to continue massaging your neck and shoulders gently.

Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit directly across from you, leaning against the opposite couch. Yunho rests beside Hongjoong on his right, San to the right of Yunho at the one end of the table. Beside Seonghwa on his left sits Jongho. Wooyoung rests to your left, while Yeosang is to your right.

“I don’t expect you all to sit on the floor with me, you know,” you chuckle, reaching out your hand to grab the full glass of water in front of you.

“We know, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles at you, placing a tender hand onto your one thigh. “We want to.”

“Besides,” Jongho adds, “we don’t want you to think we’re looking down at you in any way. Especially if you’re the only one on the floor.”

Their answers warm your heart.

“You know I would never think that,” you reply, drinking the rest of the water in your glass until there’s none left.

Wordlessly, Seonghwa begins to pour more water into your glass as soon as you place it back onto the table.

“We know,” this time, it’s Hongjoong who answers you with a soft smile pulling at his own features. “It is simply one power dynamic that we do not like. Not when it’s you.”

Again, your heart warms at his words, only further serving to solidify the fact that you know that they’ve always seen you as their equal. A fact which you continue to remind yourself of every time those nasty words Miyeon had spat at you make a reappearance in your mind.

You tilt your head back, quirking a teasing brow at Mingi above you. “I suppose there are certain exceptions to that?”

“It’s easier to rub your shoulders this way, Starlight,” he grins cheekily, thumbs pressing the slightest bit firmer into your skin as if to emphasize his point. “Though, you know I would be on the floor with you in an instant if you asked.”

“I know, Moonlight,” you hum, placing a hand on top of one of his own for a moment. “I’m just teasing you.”

You can feel him squeeze your left shoulder gently beneath his fingers, that all too familiar smile of his pulling at his features. Though, before he can continue massaging you, you’re telling him to wait a moment.

“I need to crack my neck,” you warn them all.

In the next second, you’re tilting your head side to side. Quite a few satisfying pops can be heard from either side as you stretch your neck out. A pleased sigh leaves your lips, as you arch upwards, stretching your back out for good measure.

Settling back down into your spot, you place your stone upon the top of the table. Your hands reach for the bowl of food next, pulling it towards you. Once you see the fruit piled high within, a tender smile is pulling at your lips, the fork now grasped in your hand.

You shift your gaze to meet San’s. “Thank you, Baby.”

“Of course, Baby,” San smiles, tugging your hoodie that he still wears closer around his body. He’s just content to know that he could make you happy, especially right now. “Anything for you.”

Slowly, you begin to eat the fruit from the bowl in your hand. You can still feel Mingi softly massaging over your neck and shoulders, a fact which allows your body to relax the more tension is alleviated from your body. You can feel Yeosang gently brushing his thumb over your thigh where his hand still rests, furthering your sense of relaxation as you settle into this moment with all of them.

Honestly, you’re not quite sure where to begin, but the more you think about it, the heavier your mind becomes.

The soft caress of Yunho brushing against your mind with his own has your gaze shifting to his in an instant.

A tender, reassuring smile is sent your way. One which has the corners of your own lips quirking upwards slightly.

“So, I was really out for three days?” You ask, biting into another piece of fruit.

“It was the worst three days of our lives,” Seonghwa breathes, nodding in confirmation all the while.

“We hardly left your side,” Wooyoung adds, and you shift your attention to see him looking down at his hands in his lap. “We couldn’t.”

“Never before have any of us felt fear like we did on that day,” Hongjoong admits lowly, gaze locked on the top of the wooden table separating the two of you.

“What-“ Jongho’s voice catches in his throat as he looks towards you, that same fear shining within his eyes. “What happened?”

A slight silence lingers over all nine of you as you stare down at the now empty bowl of fruit in your hands.

“You don’t-“ Yeosang’s tone is soft as you turn to look at him, his one hand coming up to caress the side of your face tenderly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

You shake your head, exhaling a sigh through your nose as you place your empty bowl back onto the table before you. Again, you grab that small stone into your one hand, beginning to feel it with the tips of your fingers.

“No,” you reply. “If I don’t talk about what happened, it will just consume me. I’m not about to let that happen. She doesn’t get to throw me back there. I won’t let her.”

You notice Wooyoung reach out for your left hand, and you’re quick to switch your pebble to your right so that he can loop your fingers through his own. He shifts closer, squeezing your hand firmly in his and reassuring you that he’s right here. That they’re all right here.

You take a deep breath, and then you begin.

“She appeared practically a minute after you had all left.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, they’re all thrown into your memories. They see you turn around to face her, you attempting to reach out to them, only for that damn mental block to be slammed over your mind, and Kuroo lunging at her instantly. They watch as you try to save Kuroo, only to be shoved against the wall by your neck in the next second.

Growls threaten to escape their lips as they watch Miyeon sink her nails into your throat, only to pull a dagger on you soon afterwards. Though, each male cannot deny the sense of pride that builds in their chests at the way you stood your ground, taunting her all the while.

“Just as I said before, your wards saved me from whatever sick manhunt she had planned,” you say, feeling the way Yeosang’s fingers tighten ever so slightly over your thigh.

Each of your thoughts during the moment washes over them now, and each man cannot help they way they stiffen. You were right. If Miyeon had managed to kill you right in front of their very eyes that day, they don’t think any of them would have survived.

Yeosang, San, Mingi, and Yunho all flinch when they see her step on your ankle, shattering the bones beneath her foot with a twisted sense of glee on her lips.

“The way she was convinced she was going to be living with you all after everything drove me insane.” Your brow furrows, your body beginning to tremble as that same anger you felt before begins to bubble beneath the surface of your skin. “She thought she could own you, and that’d you’d all just be okay with it.”

“She made you give her a tour of the house?” San can barely control his own anger as your memory continues to play through their minds.

You meet his gaze, the tight smile on your lips saying it all.

Snarls escape their throats as they hear what Miyeon spoke to you while in this very room.

“Every word she said to you was a filthy, fucking lie,” Seonghwa hisses out, his eyes shifting black for the briefest of moments.

Your breath catches slightly, and you find yourself blinking in response, not realizing how badly you needed to hear those words for the moment. You nod, slowly, allowing your memories of that day to continue.

Again, Yeosang’s hand over your thigh tightens its grip slightly as he sees you reach the music room. Of course, he saw the debris of the smashed piano when he went to briefly explore the house after everything. He can still remember the way tears leaked from his eyes as he cleaned the drops of your dried blood scattered along the floor before replacing the piano with a brand new one.

His breath hitches in his throat the moment he sees you prevent Miyeon from touching his violin. Even his brothers cannot help the way they shift their gaze between the two of you for a brief moment, and he knows that they all feel the exact same way as he does at seeing you protect his prized possession. Well, other than you, of course.

Only, the moment he sees Miyeon fling you into the piano in retribution, Yeosang cannot prevent the way tears are quick to gather and fall from his eyes.

So, that’s how the piano got destroyed.

You got hurt because of him. This is all his fault. Miyeon. Your injuries. How you almost died.

The moment you turn your head to see Yeosang’s blank stare, his eyes not even being able to look at you, you gently shake your thigh to grab his attention. As soon as he shifts his gaze to meet your own, you shoot him a small smile. It’s as much as you can muster for the moment, but from the way he blinks, you can tell that you at least have his attention.

“I don’t regret what I did,” you tell him, nothing but sincerity reflected in your tone. “I would do it all again, too. Without hesitation.”

The way you turn to meet Yunho’s, Hongjoong’s, and Seonghwa’s eyes says it all. Yet still, those three have yet to discover what exactly happened between you and Miyeon in regards to them. That does not mean that they believe you any less.

The scene shifts, and more growls are escaping their lips as they hear her disgusting words spat at you while observing the dining room. Then, you’re quickly making your way across the house before stepping into the tailor shop.

The way your entire body tenses as you relive this one part of your memories does not go unnoticed by them. Mingi even stops his movements over your shoulders for the moment in order to begin stroking a tender hand over the top of you head in comfort.

“The dress was beautiful,” you can barely manage to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, but you do.

The moment the first slash is made into the material, you avert your eyes. That same shame washes over you, guilt beginning to consume you as you observe Miyeon destroying Seonghwa’s own space for the second time.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

The whole while, Seonghwa sits there across from you, tense and heart aching. What hurts him the most is seeing the way Miyeon gleefully tore apart his things in order to hurt you. That is the worst part of all of this, because Seonghwa just knows you are still blaming yourself for the destruction that she caused.

A gentle hand placing itself onto your ankle beneath the table draws your attention to the male sitting across from you.

“My Divine, the fact that you cared enough to even attempt to stop her means more to me, to us, than you’ll ever know. I need you to know,” his intense gaze keeps yours locked on his own, “I don’t care that she destroyed my workshop. I care that she hurt you, and I care that she’s still hurting you.”

Tears begin to line your eyes, and you find you can only nod along to his words. You fear that if you open your mouth, the only thing that will escape you are sobs. Especially since you know what has still yet to come.

They all watch as she leads you into the library, and after the small exchange of words between the both of you, your entire form begins shaking in rage. Wooyoung can feel it as your hand trembles within his hold. Mingi can feel it against his legs, and Yeosang can feel it beneath his hand that he has resting on your thigh.

“I wanted to tear her apart,” you voice lowly, glaring at the top of the table before you. “Especially after what she told me. After what I learned.”

Before any of them has a chance to ask you what you mean, they watch her walk over to the garden. Again, a sense of pride builds in their chests as they hear you snap back at her with some smart remarks of your own. A pride that quickly dulls into nothing, though, as they hear her threaten to burn you alive.

“Don’t worry, Starlight,” Mingi continues to caress your upper body, hands trailing comfortingly along your shoulders for the moment. “We made sure to burn her corpse to a crisp. There’s nothing left but ashes, now.”

You can only nod your head in response before your memory is cutting out for the moment. You blink, seeing them all staring at you in worry.

“I can’t-“ your breathing deepens, bringing your one arm to rest against the top of the table for support as you lean forward. “I can’t-“

You can barely get the words out, your hand desperately clinging onto that small rock held within your right palm.

“Hey, hey,” it’s Wooyoung who draws your attention to him this time, releasing his hold on your hand in order to cup your face and turn your head to face him. “It’s okay. You’re safe. She cannot hurt you anymore.”

He holds your gaze, eyes staring deeply into your own as his thumbs tenderly caress the sides of your cheeks. Slowly, Wooyoung gets you to sync your breathing with his, managing to calm you down all the while. Against the skin of your back, you register a soft touch caressing your spine, and you just know that it’s Yeosang.

“We’re right here, Starlight,” Mingi’s voice rumbles out from above you, nothing but concern reflected in his eyes. A look he knows is mirrored on all of his brother’s faces for the moment.

Slowly, your left hand comes up to place itself over Wooyoung’s own that rests on the one side of your face. You find yourself leaning into his touch more than you realize as you manage to get your breathing back under control.

“Take your time, Darling,” nothing but worry is on Jongho’s face as his heart aches for you.

Oh, how he longs to be able to pull you into his arms for the moment, comforting you in any and every way that he knows how. All he wants to do is assure you that nothing will ever harm you again as he whispers sweet words of love and assurance into your ears. A sentiment he knows is shared by all of his brothers right now.

Taking a deep, albeit shaky breath in, you close your eyes.

“I can’t-“ your voice catches in your throat and you find yourself swallowing thickly. “I can’t relive what she did to me in there.”

“We understand,” it’s Hongjoong who answers, almost immediately, his own hand being placed onto the ankle of your other leg beneath the table.

“That doesn’t mean I still cannot tell you,” you breathe, keeping your eyes closed for the moment.

“You don’t have to, Petal,” Yunho assures you. “If the memory is too traumatic for you to remember-“

“No,” you cut him off softly. “I need to-“ you take another shaky breath in, “I need to talk about it to begin processing it. It’s the way I’ve always been.”

“Alright, Darling,” Jongho’s tone is gentle as he shifts slightly in his spot, as if to move closer to you for the moment. “Whenever you’re ready. We’re right here.”

A slow nod of your head is all that they receive in response as you turn your gaze to your hand resting on top of the table.

A brief silence.

“She-“ you hesitate. “She-“ you swallow, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. “She tried to drown me.”

A stillness so deadly settles over all of them as they let your words sink in.

“In the fountain.” You continue. “After killing all of the plants, and threatening to burn me alive,” you pause only briefly, “she tried to drown me.”

“Baby,” San’s worried gaze immediately fills with tears as he looks towards you.

A look which is mirrored on Mingi’s, Yunho’s, Jongho’s, and Yeosang’s faces. However, none of them are as bad as both Hongjoong and Wooyoung are.

Wooyoung’s whole body begins to tremble and he pulls himself up from his spot in order to begin pacing in the open area right beside the couch. His hands are clenched into fists, shaking all the while as he holds them at his sides. His chest rises and falls dramatically with each inhale, eyes flashing black for the briefest of moments.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, goes unnaturally still. His gaze loses focus as he stares directly in front of him for the time being. That is, until his entire body begins to shake.

Slowly, he pushes himself up onto his feet, and he can feel your dull eyes watching him the whole time. A fact which shatters his already fragile heart even more than it already is. Desperately, he tries to keep his tears at bay, but Hongjoong finds that he can no longer prevent the first from slipping down his face as he sees you gazing at him with your own sense of worry in your eyes.

A small sense of regret begins to linger throughout your mind at telling them this piece of information, given the way that they all seem to be reacting now.

“We should have done more to her,” Wooyoung is seething as he continues to pace back and forth. “We should have fucking torn her flesh right from her bones.”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warns.

“It wasn’t enough,” Wooyoung continues. “It will never be enough.”

“Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s firm voice manages to draw the younger’s furious gaze to him for the moment. “Calm yourself.”

“You can’t seriously be telling me that-“

“We all feel the exact same way,” Yeosang meets his brother’s gaze from over your shoulder, and the darkness he can see swirling within the elder’s own has him halting in his tracks.

“However, right now, your anger is not helping,” Yunho frowns at the man standing almost directly across from him.

At the way the elder flicks his gaze to your slightly trembling form held in Yeosang’s arms, Wooyoung is immediately back at your side.

“I’m so sorry, Angel,” Wooyoung’s gaze holds nothing but concern for you as he grabs your hand in his once more. “I’m not angry at you. Please, don’t think I’m angry at you.”

You shake your head slightly. “You’re allowed to be angry, Woo. You all are.”

He squeezes your hand in response.

“It’s just-“ you sigh, shifting your position slightly. “I’ve never been good with other people’s anger. Or shouting. Especially not when I’m in this sort of mental state.”

“We appreciate you telling us, Petal,” Yunho smiles softly at you from across the table.

“We promise to keep that in mind going forward,” San assures you gently, watching you nod in response.

Briefly, your eyes dart around the area, a frown pulling at your features. “Where’s Joong?”

Wordlessly, both Yunho and Seonghwa share a look between each other before the eldest is motioning with his head over his shoulder. At the way your brow furrows even deeper, eyes darting passed the couch and still not seeing Hongjoong anywhere, you begin to stand.

Once you’re on your feet, with a little help from Yeosang, Mingi, and Wooyoung, you’re carefully weaving your way through the sitting area to find your missing King. When you step passed the couch, you turn your head slightly from side to side, scanning the room. However, what you don’t expect is to see Hongjoong crouched behind the sofa, tears streaming down his face as he covers his mouth with his one hand in order to muffle his sobs.

“Oh, Hongjoong,” your expressions falls, synonymous with the way you drop to your knees before him. “My King, why are you crying?”

Your question, in that soft tone of yours filled with nothing but concern for him, only makes him sob harder. The way you pull him into your embrace in the next second has him clinging onto you for dear life, entire body shuddering as he buried his face into the side of your neck.

“How can you even stand to look at me right now?” He chokes on his breath, hands clinging desperately to your back despite his words. "I’ve failed you.”

“Why?” To say you’re completely caught off guard by his question would be an understatement. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s all my fault,” Hongjoong’s voice trembles as he inhales a shuddering breath. “The fountain-“ he chokes on a sob, “in the garden,” his grip tightens around you, “it was my idea.”

You stiffen the slightest bit beneath his touch, and it’s enough to have him clinging onto you harder, afraid that you may slip between his very fingers at any moment.

“She tried to kill you using everything of my own,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper, and it’s like he confesses to the darkest of sins right then and there. “It was my blade she used to torture you with. It was my fountain she tried to drown you in. It was my wards that she broke through.” His voice is but a mere rasp, overcome by his emotions for the time being. “It’s all my fault.”

You take a moment to collect your own thoughts, tightening your grip around him as you begin to thread your fingers gently through his hair with your free hand.

“You know I don’t believe that for one second, right?” You keep your voice calm, much steadier than you thought you’d be able to for the moment. “I thought I told you that I don’t blame you, any of you, for what she did.”

“I still gave her the means to hurt you.” He replies, somewhat bluntly.

“Was that ever your intent?” You turn his own words back on him.

A brief pause in which he pulls away only the slightest in order to meet your gaze. His eyes shine with a fear unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him before at the mere suggestion.

“No,” he shakes his head slightly. “Never.”

“Exactly.” You brush your hand over his cheek tenderly. “You swore yourself that you would never hurt me, and My Love, you never have. None of you have ever hurt me, nor could you ever hurt me in the ways that she did. I know for a fact that none of you would ever forgive yourselves if you did.”

You fail to see how all males stiffen behind the couch both you and Hongjoong are hidden behind. Though, you most certainly hear the way all of their breaths hitch in their throats, including the King before you.

“You did not hold my head beneath the water. You have never raised a blade to my skin,” the way the thumb of your right hand caresses over where that all too familiar scar rests over his own chest has a shiver running down his spine. You meet his gaze. “I know you never will. At least, not with the intent to hurt me. Not like she did.”

“The reason I lasted so long,” you continue. “The reason I was able to hold out against her for as long as I did, was because I knew. I knew that the second you got back that you would come to save me. You would protect me with everything that you are like you always have. All of you. It’s the reason I am able to talk about what happened right now, so quickly after everything. Sure, I’m fucking traumatized, but at least I’m speaking about it. I can begin to process these emotions because I know you’ll all be with me every step of the way. A thing that I’ve never done before so soon after such an incident.”

“My Love,” he breathes, and you notice how he’s beginning to calm down more and more with each word you speak.

“I know it’s hard not to blame yourself for every little thing that goes wrong,” you place your chin atop his head as you pull him to rest against your chest so that he can hear the sound of your beating heart. “Believe me, I’ve been there. I’m still there. What we all have to realize is that we can never control the actions of others. We can only choose how to react to what they do around us. We can either let their past wrongdoings consume us, letting those memories control our every thought and feeling, or we can grow from it.”

“I am tired of letting her make me feel powerless, even in death,” you exhale a long breath. “It’s even worse knowing the hold she still has over all of you. There is nothing I hate more than seeing the people I care about in pain, or blaming themselves for something that is completely out of their control.”

“So, please, My King, do not waste any more time crying over a matter that does not deserve any of your tears.” Slowly, you wipe the remaining droplets away with your thumb as he pulls back to meet your gaze. “Do not allow her the satisfaction of seeing you break, even after death. It’s exactly what she wants, and I’ll be damned before I let her get her way ever again.”

A small silence settles over the room as Hongjoong stares deeply into your eyes. His hands still desperately hold you close, gaze shining with nothing but the deepest form of love you’ve ever seen from him. Not only that, but gratitude.

Slowly, you tilt your head forward, pressing your lips to his forehead in a lingering kiss.

Hongjoong absolutely melts into your embrace, sniffling softly as he blinks away his remaining tears.

“Here you are comforting me when I’m the one supposed to be comforting you,” he jokes lightheartedly, hearing a soft chuckle fall from your lips.

“Grief is a two way street, My Love,” you reply, and you do not fail to hear the way his breath hitches this time as you say those two little words.

Once more, Hongjoong’s gaze absolutely shines with adoration as he looks at you, revelling in this moment for as long as he can. Your words have reassured him more than you’ll ever know, and he knows, along with all of his brothers, that he has only just fallen even deeper in love with you.

“Now, let’s go back and sit on the couch,” you begin to stand, stretching out your legs all the while. “My butt is getting numb.”

The way you see a few of their brows raised in slight amusement as you turn back towards them all has your eyes flashing in amusement.

“No suggestive ass jokes from any of you right now,” your glare is playful as you walk hand in hand with Hongjoong back over to the one couch.

Sitting beside Mingi, you notice that he oh, so innocently averts his gaze from you for the time being as you hear Wooyoung’s laughter coming from the ground at your feet. In the next moment, they’ve all pushed themselves up, sitting in spots around the various couches and chairs lining the area. All except for the two males that still sit on the ground near your feet.

You hold onto Hongjoong’s hand, pulling it into your lap as you lean into Mingi’s side. Your legs come up to rest across the elder’s own, smiling faintly as you feel him wrap an arm around them soon after. Even Mingi’s arm wraps itself around you, pulling you that much closer into his side for the moment as you find yourself relaxing beneath their touch.

Still, that pebble of yours rests in your free hand.

Sparing a glance downwards, that’s when you notice that Yeosang still sits on the floor in front of you. He faces towards you, resting his arm against the side of the couch as it supports his chin. The way he tenderly looks up at you has you placing your stone onto your one thigh for a brief second in order to reach out and caress the side of his face. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your thumb stroking gently over his cheek.

“I could tell all she ever wanted was you,” your voice is a bit smaller than before as you continue to recount the events that transpired while they were gone. “No one else mattered more to her than you.”

A pointed line from Miyeon echoing throughout all of their minds has them inhaling sharply.

“Sure, she would take all of you in the end,” you say, keeping your tone low as you dive back into those emotions once more. “If only to prove that she could. Yet, it was always you she desired above all else. Until the very end.”

“I would never have let her have me,” he replies, staring deeply into your eyes. “Not in a billion years.”

You smile sadly, “she wasn’t going to give you a choice.”

Before they can even ask you to elaborate further, they are dropped back into your memories. The pain alone that they can feel echoing through your past thoughts has all of their chests squeezing tightly in response. Already, you were hurt so badly, and you still had to endure everything else that Miyeon had in store for you.

The moment you fling yourself in front of Yunho’s art room, their breaths are hitching in their throats. Though, none are as loud as the artist himself.

“Petal,” his voice trembles as he stares at you from across the table. You sit nearly diagonally apart from him, gaze fixated on that stone now back in your one hand as your thumb traces over every little bump and crevasse.

Nothing could have prepared him for the ferocity in which you had tried to protect his space with. The sheer desperation he can hear in your voice, even after you continuously got the wind knocked out of you by being smashed through the door has a feeling unlike ever before swirling in his chest.

“She tore everything apart without a second thought,” your eyes squeeze shut, fresh tears lining your lashes as you attempt to keep them at bay for now. “I tried to stop her, Universe. I really did.”

“I know, Petal,” instantly, he’s right beside you, kneeling on the ground as Yeosang moves the slightest bit over to give him some space. “I know.”

“She desecrated everything you worked so hard on,” a heart wrenching sob tears from your chest, and you cannot bring yourself to open your eyes to even look at him for the moment.

Yunho can still remember the moment he walked into his art room to see the shattered remains of the door, your blood soaking into the torn pages of his sketchbook littering the floor. The worst of it was the dried smear right in front of the canvass on display in the corner of the room, and he just knew something terrible had happened to you for that painting to remain perfectly intact.

The flower crown can be remade. His sketches can be redrawn. Hell, even that canvass he could paint again. But you? You?

Irreplaceable.

The moment they see Miyeon turn the sketchbook around in your memories, a blank page greets them. Immediately, they all understand that this is you respecting Yunho’s art in your own way by not showing them a picture he potentially hadn’t yet. Yunho knows that though this fact is unquestionably true, it is also you keeping your shared intimacy of that day the two of you claimed one another private.

A fact which warms his heart more than you’ll ever know.

Tears spring to his own eyes the instant he sees you lunge for Miyeon in order to protect that painting in the corner of the room. Even some of his brothers cannot help the tears that line the corners of their vision as they watch you do whatever you can to protect Yunho’s art. The second they see Miyeon slash your body as you jump in front of her blade to prevent it from ever striking the canvass, the tears are flowing freely from San’s, Mingi’s, Seonghwa’s, Yeosang’s, and Wooyoung’s eyes.

“You got hurt protecting the painting.” Yunho nearly chokes on his own voice. “For me.”

Finally, you open your eyes, turning your head to look at him as tears slide down your face shamelessly. Slowly, you nod your head.

“I wouldn’t let her touch it.” You swallow thickly. “I couldn’t.”

“You got hurt because of me,” Yunho practically collapses on top of your stomach, arms desperately wrapping themselves around your torso as he sobs into you.

“No, Universe,” immediately, you drop Hongjoong’s hand in favour of running your fingers gently through Yunho’s hair. “I chose to try and protect your art, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I’m only sorry that I failed you.” You avert your gaze. “I was too weak.”

You feel both Mingi and Hongjoong shuffle the slightest bit closer to you, a hand that you’d bet anything belongs to Yeosang coming to rest on your lower thigh. Even Yunho raises his head to look at you, shaking his head in your direction as his arms tighten around your waist.

“No, Petal,” he meets your gaze. “You were so brave. So, unbelievably, brave. The fact that you so desperately wanted to save my art, that you wanted to protect all of our things, means more to me, to us, than you’ll ever know. We don’t care about the things Miyeon destroyed. They can be replaced. You cannot.”

You hand shifts to cup the side of his cheek, thumb stroking tenderly over his skin. You can feel your emotions catching in your throat, and you swallow thickly, especially when you feel Hongjoong squeeze your legs tenderly in his lap.

Slowly, you begin to nod.

Yunho sends you a small, relieved smile. One which you weakly mirror as you raise a hand to dry your eyes.

“Do not feel guilty for the things you cannot control, Petal,” Yunho softly reminds you. “Know that we do not blame you at all.”

Again, all you can do is nod, smiling faintly as you wipe the lingering tears from your eyes. Your emotions begin to settle, even if only the slightest bit, and you find a weight lifted from your chest that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding on to. The way you can see all of them still staring at you so tenderly, eyes full of nothing but love and worry for you makes your heart warm. You feel comforted, protected, and safe, especially as you continue to rest in their arms.

Carefully, you begin to sit up once more, resting your feet on the ground as the four males surrounding you give you the space to move. Blinking, you turn your head to the other male who still sits on the floor, arms crossed against the cushion of the couch as he stares up at you with nothing but worry shining in his eyes.

Slowly, you stand, stepping over Mingi as you reach your hand out to Wooyoung. Immediately, he takes it, and you’re helping him to stand, only to pull him down to sit on the couch with you on Mingi’s opposite side. You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him in your lap as you feel him bury his face into the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry that she chose the room of your passion to hurt all of us in,” you whisper, feeling the way he tightens his hold around you almost instantly.

A tear lands on your skin, followed by another, and then another. Even though Wooyoung does his best to muffle the sounds of his sobs, you can tell how badly this fact affects him, given the way his entire form begins to tremble in your arms.

You spare a look around at all of them as you begin to thread your fingers through Wooyoung’s hair, offering him any sort of comfort that you can for the moment.

“I don’t think I need to go into explicit detail as to what she did to me in that room,” you begin, swallowing thickly. “You all saw the state of my body.”

“It is a sight we wish we’d never have had to behold,” Seonghwa breathes, as if recalling that very image now. “Nor do we ever want to see you in again.”

“I never knew fear before until I heard you scream that day,” Jongho admits, hands trembling as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t think any of us did,” Hongjoong blinks, staring down at his hands in his lap with wide eyes.

“If it’s any comfort to you,” you briefly spare a glance around at all of them, “that was the only time she made me scream. She only succeeded once.”

“She did?” San sits slightly forward in his seat to your left.

“I swore to myself as soon as she appeared that I would not let her see me cry, or hear me scream.” You tell them. “It worked, for the most part. Until she got inside my head. I don’t physically remember much after that. Not until Yunho found me again.”

The way you shift your gaze to send the male to your right a small smile has a faint one of his own tugging at his lips.

“But, while she was-“ you take a deep breath, “while she was torturing me, I managed to get quite a bit of information out of her. She was more than happy to boast of her achievements to me.”

“Did she, now?” Seonghwa quirks a brow in your direction.

You nod, immediately launching into an explanation of everything you were able to find out from Miyeon over the course of your little conversation with her. You can see the way each male takes in the information, some of the facts physically repulsing them.

“She was going to brainwash you all into loving her after she had killed me in front of you,” you tell them. “She used Dimitri as a test run, proving that such a monumental loss of love could break someone enough to allow her control over their minds. Even now, that fact alone makes me sick. She wasn’t going to let any of you have a choice. She-“

Your breath catches in your throat as you instantly shut your mouth. A thought so terrifying flits through your mind as your fingers dig into the skin on Wooyoung’s back.

Of course, each male instantly notices your shift in demeanour. Worry tugs onto all of their features as you go unnaturally quiet, entire body still as you stare into the open air beside Seonghwa’s head.

You blink, keeping your voice low. “She is what all of you could have become.”

The briefest of flashes of that one conversation at the mall flits through all of their minds, and they all inhale sharply.

“I don’t mean to ever be insinuating that I’m comparing any of you to her,” you are quick to add. “You all are nothing like her, and please know that I realize that. You let me keep my autonomy. You chose to let me keep my own mind. She was the one willing to take that all away due to her own twisted sense of obsession. That, and she wasn’t afraid of hurting you to get what she wanted. A fact which I know none of you would ever do to me.”

You’re beginning to ramble at this point, anxiety clawing at your chest as you’re worried you’ve offended them for the moment.

“I-“ you blink, attempting to find the words to say, “I-“

“Shh, Starlight,” Mingi’s reassuring voice sounds right by your ear, his hand stroking along the back of your head. “We know you meant no offence.”

The sigh of relief you breathe is bigger than you anticipate, feeling Wooyoung chuckle against you in the next second. At least he’s stopped crying for now.

“Don’t worry, Angel,” he whispers lowly, his breath tickling the shell of your opposite ear. “You were just stating an observation you had made. A brilliant one at that.”

“I can’t believe she killed his family to try and get what she wanted,” San breathes, leaning further back into his seat.

“Shouldn’t that mean her hold over him is gone?” You inquire, eyes briefly flitting over all of them before locking with Yunho’s.

“Not necessarily,” Yunho frowns. “It depends on how strong the manipulation runs, and from the sounds of it, she altered his entire conscience. Mina did incur that whatever Miyeon had planned would still guarantee her victory, even in death.”

“Then, is there any way to free his mind? Or Mina’s?” You briefly recall what they told you about that locked knot of memories inside Mina’s head when they got back from their council the other day.

“If we managed to free Dimitri, he could free Mina instantly,” Yunho explains. “However, freeing Dimitri could require a lot of time and effort. Not to mention wards to keep him from lashing out, that we just don’t have right now.”

“Malik, though, is a completely different story.” Seonghwa sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“He’s dangerous, even without being a man in love,” Hongjoong adds, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, perfectly mirroring the exact position of the youngest who sits across from him.

“I bet neither will take too kindly to us after finding out Miyeon is dead,” Mingi crosses his arms over his chest as he sits back on the couch.

“Considering she managed to convince him to stage a coup twenty years ago despite being one of the most loyal generals we ever had,” San huffs. “Yeah, I think we’ve got some bigger issues than we think.”

“I’m surprised he ever fell for her.” Jongho adds. “Do you think she even cared for him?”

“I don’t think she was capable of loving anyone other than herself,” Wooyoung spits, quite harshly.

Soothingly, you rub a hand down his spine, feeling the way his whole body relaxes beneath your touch.

“She is the most vile, disgusting, loathsome creature I have ever had the displeasure of meeting,” you hiss, tightening your hold the slightest bit around Wooyoung’s waist.

Eight low growls of agreement echo around your room.

You go to speak once more, only for your voice to catch in your throat. That same glow that you saw in your bathroom earlier that day now rests right behind the couch Seonghwa and Jongho sit on. Vaguely, you can make out a shape, and it really does look like a person.

“Who-“ your panicked voice reaches all of their ears, “who is that?”

Immediately, all eight of them are turning to look in the direction your frantic gaze is in. Wooyoung even goes so far as to hop off of your lap, crouching in front of you protectively as all eight of them snarl threateningly at whatever presence seems to have caught your eye.

Only, a moment later, their shoulders are relaxing, eight heads turning back to look at you.

“You can see them?” Jongho inquires, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

“See what?” Your gaze never leaves that shining figure as it takes a step towards Seonghwa’s right, standing directly behind his one shoulder.

“Spirit souls, My Love,” Hongjoong answers you.

“Who-“

Turning his head once more, Seonghwa smiles softly, recognizing the figure instantly.

“It’s your grandmother, My Divine,” he turns his gentle gaze back towards you.

Sure enough, focusing a little more intently, the figure of your grandmother becomes clearer and clearer.

“How?” You breathe, sitting forward slightly on the couch as you see her smiling so fondly at you.

“We can all see them, but only Hwa can usually make out who it is,” Mingi explains.

“It’s most likely a side effect from ingesting his blood, My Dear,” Yeosang’s voice is gentle, and you glance briefly at him out of the corner of your eyes before your gaze is being drawn back to your grandmother.

“She’s been around this whole time, though she doesn’t appear as often as you’d think.” Seonghwa adds, noticing how you blink in awe. “Gave me a massive scolding after we came back from visiting the dragon’s nest, though.”

“You can talk with her?” The wonder they can all hear lingering throughout your tone has all of their hearts warming in their chests.

Seonghwa nods. “Only sometimes, though. Mainly when her emotions are extremely heightened. Otherwise, it’s mainly feelings that I pick up on.”

“Oh, goodness,” your eyes keep flitting between both him and your grandmother who stands resting with her hand on his shoulder. “I hope she hasn’t told you anything embarrassing about me.”

At the way he smiles, your eyes widen.

“Mars!” You nearly throw a pillow at him as you watch him chuckle across from you.

Then, as if deciding that she’s done checking on you, and making sure that you’re okay for the moment, your grandmother shoots you a cheeky thumbs up before vanishing into thin air.

“I think you just got my grandmother’s approval,” you blink, slightly stunned for the moment.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time,” he grins, loving the way your eyes widen significantly at this fact.

“I don’t want to know,” you shake your head playfully. Then, as if realizing something, “wait, if Hwa is the only one that can make out the figures, what do they all look like to you?”

The question you pose is for all of them, and you watch them smile at you from around the sitting area. That all too familiar curiosity tugs at your mind once more. A feeling that they haven’t experienced for quite some time, but are each more than happy to revel in it now.

“Usually just a faint glowing orb of some sort,” Mingi answers for you, noting the look of wonder still shining within your eyes.

“Huh,” you nod, clearly impressed. “Neat.”

You blink, subconsciously beginning to run a thumb over that stone still held in your one hand.

“Do you know if I’ll get any other side effects specific to the eight of you when I ingest your blood?” You ask, nothing but curiosity reflected in your gaze.

They all share a look between each other, your choice of words sending pleasant tingles down their spines.

“Honestly, Darling, we have no idea,” Jongho says. “We didn’t even know it was possible to have any personalized side effects from any of our blood. If at all.”

You nod once more. “A bit of a weird question, but what does blood taste like to you?”

“It can taste like a variety of things, depending on the type and rarity,” Wooyoung explains. “Though, the majority of it will just taste like iron to many.”

“Type?” You quirk a brow, noticing how he didn’t really answer your question.

“It mainly just tastes sweet to us, but it can still be addicting,” San adds, sharing a knowing look with Mingi who still rests beside you on the couch.

“Do you know what your own blood tastes like?” You ask, eyes glancing around at all of them.

“Just tastes like blood to us,” Wooyoung shrugs, back to sitting on the floor by your feet. “Why? Did Hwa’s blood taste like something to you?”

Eight pairs of eager eyes watch you closely as you shift slightly on the couch.

Curling yourself into the corner of the cushions, you cross your legs, pulling a pillow into your lap in the next second to hug it to your chest.

“Tasted like dark chocolate.” You shrug. “And a faint bit of iron.”

Slowly, you watch a smug smirk pull at Seonghwa’s features as his brother’s heads all whip around to look at him. He can feel the content rumble building within his chest that wants to escape him at learning of this revelation. He only wishes that the context were better.

“So, I’m also assuming yours,” you motion to Wooyoung with your head, drawing all of their attention back onto you for the moment, “tastes like cranberry juice, and a little bit of iron. Based on that tonic you gave me.”

“It’s possible,” Wooyoung nods. “Though, my blood was quite diluted in that.”

You nod, blinking a few times in wonder. “Did my blood taste like anything?”

Immediately, all eyes are on Wooyoung, his brothers waiting for his response with bated breath.

“To be quite honest, Gorgeous, I wish I could tell you.” Wooyoung notices the way his brother’s shoulders all deflate in disappointment at his words. “I didn’t take enough to fully taste anything other than to check for poison. I also had a few, more important things on my mind.”

“Fair enough,” this time when you nod, your eyes seem to zone out, the reminder of the state that they found you in enough to have your mood plummeting once more.

Beside you, Mingi tenses, feeling Yunho digging his fingers into the skin of his knee. Sparing a glance at the elder male shows Yunho subtly shaking his head in Mingi’s direction, the faintest of warnings lingering in his brother’s gaze.

Subtly, Mingi nods back, body relaxing once he feels Yunho remove his hand from his knee.

Of course Yunho would warn Mingi to keep his mouth shut for the moment. The younger only wanted to joke about tasting your blood for you to know whether it had any particular flavour to it. A curiosity which is mirrored in each male, but now is not the time for such inquiries given the way your whole demeanour has just dropped.

Pulling the pillow closer to your chest, you rest your head against the edge. Desperately, you cling onto the material, thumb back to tracing along the side of your pebble. Your eyes stare, unfocused, at the table before you, seemingly lost inside your own head.

“I thought she was going to split my skull right open,” you admit, keeping your voice low. “I don’t know how I managed to fend her off mentally for so long, but I did. She jumped at every opportunity to smash through, and once I started slipping, she-“ you squeeze your eyes shut. “She used my own darkest fears against me. That’s how she was able to break through.”

“Baby,” San sits forward once more in his seat, reaching out for you worriedly. “You don’t have to tell us if you’re not comfortable. We don’t want to push you.”

“You’ve already shared so much with us today,” Seonghwa does whatever he can to get you to meet his gaze for the moment, but you keep your eyes shut, trembling breaths escaping your figure with each passing second. “Please, don’t push yourself.”

“I-“ you stop yourself, taking a long and slow breath inwards to steady your nerves. Finally, you open your eyes, and the faint determination they can all see shining behind your broken gaze says it all. “I think it’s time for you all to know some things about me that I have kept hidden for so long. I want to share them with you. I need you all to understand just how she broke me, and why I always say that I cannot go back there again.”

A collective stillness settles around the room as they all inhale sharply. Each male’s gaze is filled with nothing but worry for you, hearts pounding inside their chests as they observe you carefully.

“Before I begin, I need to know that you’re all okay with hearing this,” at the way you see Jongho shift forward, lips parting as if to answer you, you’re raising your one hand slightly to halt his response. “There already has been a lot of heavy topics discussed today, and what I’m about to tell you is no exception. I don’t want to just dump this on you all given everything that has happened recently. That’s not fair to you in the slightest if you don’t have the mental capacity to be able to process the information I am about to share with you. I do not want to overwhelm you.”

“Your consideration means more to us than you’ll ever know, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles softly. A pain filled smile that reflects the way his heart aches for you inside of his chest for the moment. Even still, after everything that has occurred, you’re looking out for them before considering yourself and your own needs.

“You will find, My Love, that we always have the ability to listen to whatever it is you would like to tell us,” Hongjoong’s soft voice draws your attention to him at the opposite end of the couch. “No matter the topic.”

“Whenever,” Jongho adds lightly.

“Wherever,” Mingi breathes.

“We are right here for you,” Seonghwa finally manages to get you to meet his gaze, smiling tenderly in your direction all the while. “Always.”

The way fresh tears begin to line your eyes has each male shifting closer to you instantly. Both Mingi and Wooyoung place a comforting hand onto each one of your knees, letting you know that they’re all here for you in whatever ways they can be for the moment. Never do you have to suffer alone. Never do they want you to suffer alone anymore.

With all that they are, and with everything they can, they will comfort you, protect you, and love you unquestionably until the end of time.

“You really all don’t know how much that means to me,” you smile weakly. “I mean this from the bottom of my heart: the eight of you are everything I could have ever asked for.”

Gentle smiles greet you from around the room, tears springing to each male’s eyes as your words wash over them.

A moment of silence settles over all of you as they let your confession sink in.

Then, Yunho clears his throat, voice still rough as he speaks, “whenever you’re ready, Petal.”

Softly, you nod in response, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves once more.

“I’m sure you can all remember how I broke down that one day,” you begin, noticing how they all seem to stiffen around you in response. “That voice had been with me for over a year before I almost let it win.”

The way you squeeze the pillow tighter is synonymous with they way that they all inhale sharply once more. You can feel the way Seonghwa looks at you from across the table. A concerned look shared by all of his brothers, but you can tell that his is slightly different. Different, because he understands.

“I never thought that I was capable of being loved.”

Your confession knocks the wind right out of them.

“I hated myself so deeply. I thought that there was always something wrong with me.” You go on to say, keeping your voice low for the moment as you avoid all of their gazes. “While my friends would be going on dates, or texting me about their relationships, I was always alone. Nobody wanted me. How could they? I wasn’t beautiful like everyone else. I could barely hold someone’s attention long enough for them to be interested in me, and when I finally found someone who bothered to spend time with me, it never worked out.”

“Perhaps it was because I’ve always been a hopeless romantic at heart, or maybe it was all the stupid ideals surrounding love that I had. Yet, despite everything, I had such high standards. For myself. For this supposed mystery lover I always dreamed about having. For everything.” You explain, eyes now fixed on the way your thumb rubs over the smooth side of that rock in your hand.

“Yet, whenever someone did genuinely express interest in me, I couldn’t help but always doubt.” You chew nervously on your bottom lip. “I was never the most popular girl, and everyone thought I was just this ugly weirdo who tried to get any sort of attention that I could. So, of course, no one thought anything of it to pretend to like me. I laughed it off at the time, sure, but hearing that someone you thought cared about you only asked you out as a dare, or for a joke, or to prove how nobody actually likes you, or will ever like you, is so mind-numbingly heartbreaking that it completely destroys you inside.”

Eight low growls build in their throats, anger bubbling beneath the surface at whoever so much as dared to play with your heart like this. Once they find out who it was, they’re dead. Though, for now, they’ll stay with you. They’ll listen, even if their hearts are suffocating from your every word.

Knowing you have felt like this, that you have continued to feel like this for quite some time, pains them beyond belief.

If only they had met you sooner. If only they had known.

“I never believed that anyone could love me, let alone be in love with me.” You breathe, silent tears beginning to make their ways down your cheeks. “My depression just made everything worse. I had so much self-loathing for myself, I could hardly look in the mirror without being disgusted by everything that I saw.”

“I have always sought approval from those around me. So, if no one could love me, why should I bother to love myself?” You smile faintly, a broken tug of your lips upwards. “Which is when I realized something about myself that must have been unquestionably true. Something that became my biggest fear the more I realized it to be real.”

You take a shaky breath inwards, eyes squeezing shut as you refuse to meet any of their gazes.

“I was unlovable,” shame washes over your entire figure as you curl in on yourself, voice no more than a whisper on your lips. “I always had been, and I believed I always would be.”

Carefully, you feel yourself being pulled onto somebody’s lap and a choked sob escapes you. Still, you are unable to open your eyes to look at them, clutching that stone desperately in your one hand as you cling to the pillow in your arms for dear life. However, what you fail to see is how all eight of them surround you.

Mingi gently cradles you in his arms once more, keeping your head tucked just below his chin. Tears stream freely down his face, a few falling against the crown of your head as you lean into him.

Wooyoung rests beside you to your left, his hand placed comfortingly onto the skin of your back, along with San’s, who rests as close as he can to you on the floor by Wooyoung’s feet. Yunho sits right beside him, his hand placed gently onto your waist for the moment as he silently chokes on a sob. Seonghwa kneels to his left, hand trembling along with his whole body as he keeps his fingers pressed against your hip for the time being.

Against your thigh, you can feel someone resting their forehead. Their hands desperately cling onto you as they sob against your skin.

Never has Yeosang felt his heart break more for you in this moment. He feels as if he has failed you, especially now that he knows that you went through this. The fact that you had ever felt like this, that you had continued to feel like this for a large portion of your life devastates him. He only wishes he could have done something sooner, to both ease your insecurities and tell you, show you, how those thoughts have never been true, nor will they ever be.

Kneeling on the floor right by your shins rests Jongho. His one arm is wrapped around your lower leg, hugging you to him as much as he can as the lower half of your body is held within Hongjoong’s own grip. Your legs drape themselves over his lap once more as silent tears escape his eyes.

“My mental health was at an all time low. I felt worthless, and completely and utterly useless.” You continue quietly, resting your head against Mingi’s chest. “Continuously finding my sister so close to death at her own hands took it’s toll as well. After all, if she could do it, why couldn’t I?”

Eight choked sobs reach your ears, and you can feel the hand placed over your hip tighten its grip even more so than the others.

“I felt as if I had no reason to live anymore. I didn’t want to,” your entire body begins to shake in their hold. “If no one desired me, then obviously I had no value in being alive.”

“Not to mention, that voice just made everything worse,” you go on to say. “I blamed myself for everything. My sister, my depression, the fact that I was unlovable. I was weak, and I let those voices win.”

Suddenly, the eight of them are thrown into a memory. Not just any memory, though. The memory of the worst night of your life.

Tears stream down your face as you look into the reflection of your mirror across from your bed. Your entire body trembles as you clutch a pillow to your chest, hand fumbling with that little stone desperately as you attempt to ground yourself to no avail. Briefly, your eyes keep darting to a folded piece of paper resting beside you on the bed before glancing back up at the vanity with the mirror across from you.

That’s when they notice where your gaze truly lies. For on the vanity rests a bottle of pills, a glass of water practically glaring at them from beside it.

Your emotions begin to flood their every sense. Shame, disgust, despair, and hatred wash over them unfiltered. A pain so great echoes in their hearts, feeling as if they are being suffocated with every breath they take, and they just know that this is exactly how you felt in this moment as they watch you begin to shift off of the bed.

With every step you take towards the vanity, they can hear those vicious voices spewing the harshest insults at you, taunting you with every breath. The most vile lies they have ever heard about you are thrown at yourself without a second thought, though the one they hear resound through their minds as you reach your vanity has sobs tearing from their chests.

It would be easier this way.

They can do nothing but watch as you slowly begin to take the pills before walking back to your bed. Crawling on top of the covers, you lay yourself down on your back, gently clutching that letting in your hands and resting them on top of your stomach.

You close your eyes.

You don’t know how much time had passed, and neither do they, for the next thing they know, your blurry vision is back and you’re throwing up into a bucket. Your sister sits worriedly beside you, tears streaming down her face as she sobs into her phone, a trembling hand rubbing over your back. Your letter rests open on the floor at your feet, stains lining the page in splatters as the ink smudges from your sister’s tears.

“My parents had gone away for a weekend trip. They would have been back the following morning,” your voice manages to pull them back to the reality in front of them, chest heaving with every breath. “I planned it so they would find me as soon as they got home, but my sister decided to come over that night instead.”

“How wonderful a sight that would have been.” You laugh humourlessly, dull eyes finally open as your broken gaze stares forward, refusing to look at any of them for the moment. “My parents go away for a weekend to celebrate their anniversary, and they come back to the gift of a dead daughter.”

“My sister rode with me in the ambulance, and she stayed with me the whole time I was in the hospital. My parents still think I simply got alcohol poisoning from drinking too much that night, because that’s what we told them. Before they got home, she went back and burned my letter so they wouldn’t find it, and that’s when we vowed to each other that we would get through this together.” You breathe out, sniffling lightly. “And we did.”

“It took a while, and a lot of therapy, but I got better.” There’s a slight shift in your tone. A sort of lightness that wasn’t there before. A lightness that reflects hope. “Slowly, I learned to quiet those voices, and manage them until I could learn to reason with myself. I may not have been fully able to love myself, but at least my depression was under control. The world finally started to have some vibrance to it again.”

“Now you see why I never want to go back there again,” you bring your hands up to rub at your tired eyes. “I couldn’t. I promised my sister I never would. I promised myself that I would never let my depression get that bad again. I would never let those fears, those voices control me again.”

For the first time in over twenty minutes, you finally begin to meet their gazes.

“I never believed someone could be in love with me.” You repeat, shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as you settle your hands lightly back onto the pillow in your lap. “Until all of you.”

The way they all softly gasp your name has your heart warming in your chest.

“You all made me believe in love again. You made me believe I could be loved.” Still, you keep your voice low, nothing more than a gentle whisper on your lips. “You have made me believe I am beautiful. You have made me feel desired. You have all made me feel so incredibly special in every way imaginable, but more than all of that, you have made me feel loved.”

Soft, affectionate rumbles build in their chests, each male shifting closer to you as much as he can.

“There was always a reason that I replied to you with ‘I believe you,’” you continue, feeling your heartbeat thumping from within your chest, “and this was it.”

You can feel the love pouring out of all of their gazes as they continue to stare at you with nothing but fondness in their eyes. Yes, there is still undoubtedly that concern mixed within, but each male cannot prevent the way their hearts absolutely soar at your confession in this very moment here in time. The way you seem to absolutely revel not only in their touch, but their love is simply icing on the cake.

“Which is exactly why when she broke through to my mind, and started implementing those false memories within me, I didn’t believe them at first.” You say, swallowing thickly as your whole body tenses within their hold once more. “So, when she threw me back into feeling exactly as I did during the darkest part of my life, only to-“ your voice catches as you squeeze your eyes shut, “to continue adding more fuel to the fire, I broke.”

“Is that-“ San is the first to speak after all of them being silent for so long. “Is that when she made you scream?”

You shift your head to look at him, nodding slightly once you meet his gaze. “I think so.”

You blink, turning your head back around to stare passed all of them again.

“I think she put her own memories of you into my mind, but instead of her being on the receiving end, it was me.” You breathe, staring blankly ahead. “After all, it’s the people that we care about the most that can shatter us the quickest.”

The way they all collectively inhale sharply at your words has you taking a deep breath. Again, you feel Seonghwa tighten his grip slightly over your hip.

“They were.” Yunho clears his throat. “They were all hers. We would never look at you like that. We couldn’t. I would rather gouge my own eyes out than make you believe I would ever look at you with anything other than love in my gaze.”

“We all would,” Jongho confirms, nothing but sincerity reflected in both his tone and eyes.

You smile faintly. “I believe you.”

Eight gentle caresses of your mind serve as their response, helping to ease a bit more of the tension that consumes your figure for the time being.

“I do not want to allow her to continue to have a hold over me, even after death,” you swallow. “However, it is a lot easier said than done.”

“What can we do?” Mingi’s voice rumbles out above you, chin shifting from resting on the top of your head in order to place his lips upon the crown. “What can we do to make it better, Starlight?”

“You’ve already done more than I could ever ask for,” your honest reply warms their hearts more than you’ll ever know. “I don’t think I would have been able to talk about things so soon were it not for all of you. Were it not for what you all have done, and continue to do for me. What you all mean to me.”

Soft rumbles of affection greet your ears, and your heart flutters in your chest knowing that they’re all here to comfort you for the moment.

“For now, all I ask is that you stay with me.” You feel yourself fully relax against Mingi’s chest, allowing yourself to feel all of them surrounding you with their touch, their comfort, and their protection.

“Always, My Love,” Hongjoong breathes, thumb gently stroking along the skin of your knee as he continues to hold your legs over his lap.

“We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Yunho smiles softly at you.

“Thank you, My Divine, for sharing this with us,” Seonghwa reaches up to grab your hand gently in his own, bringing the back of it to his lips and placing a lingering kiss upon your skin.

“Thank you for trusting us.” Yeosang turns his head towards you, keeping it resting against the skin of your thigh as he meets your gaze.

“We will always be here for you, in whatever ways you need us,” Jongho adds, squeezing your shin lightly for emphasis.

“If you ever need anything from us, anything at all,” San soothingly rubs his hand in circles over your lower back, feeling you physically relax beneath his touch. “Please, Baby, never be afraid to ask.”

“We would do anything for you,” Wooyoung places his hand upon your shoulder, thumb caressing your skin lightly.

“All we want is to make you happy,” Jongho smiles softly.

“We love you, Starlight,” Mingi leans his head forward to rest his forehead against your own. “Please, never forget that.”

This time when tears spring to your eyes, it’s for a completely different reason. Now, you cannot help the way your chest floods with warmth, an undeniable happiness flooding your veins as your heart positively sings inside your chest.

“My Kings,” you melt into their embrace, a tender pull to your lips upwards as nothing but affection drips within your gaze. “I love you, too.”

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