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#while the city sleeps we rule the streets
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mcr is winning the poll right now but i started drawing while the cobras were in the lead so you get them first
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annoyingfobbie · 1 year
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i made some cobra merch!!
yoooo as some of you know, I have started a store on Bonfire where I sell my designs on clothes! Well, I've made my first official bandom related design lol, and I figured I'd advertise it in case anyone is interested or knows anyone who might be!
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The design has the Cobra Starship font and logo on the cover of the When The City Sleeps album, as well as the mission statement and a date of establishment lol
it comes in a handful of colors and a few different styles! I made sure everything had the option to come in the classic Gabe Saporta purple lol
I hope you guys like it, and please RB if you do!!
PURCHASE HERE
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radiomp3 · 6 months
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pmvstump · 1 year
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4whenitallgoes2hell · 2 years
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chi0d0s · 2 years
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THIS CITY IS AT WAR
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ngl smile for the paparazzi is a genius song and I'm tired of pretending that cobra starship wasn't a genius band at times
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infinityshigh · 10 months
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i need to put gabe saporta on a blender and then drink him like a smoothie
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wincore · 3 months
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indelicate | liu yangyang
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pairing: yangyang x fem!reader
synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.
genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff
warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021
words: 11.9k
a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!
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i. city plaza
Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.
Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.
You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.
The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.
Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting. 
“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.
“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” you snap. 
“Not afraid of the dark either?”
You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.
You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.
“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”
“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”
He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”
You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.
He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better. 
“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”
You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang. 
“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.
“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”
“Don’t say a word.”
The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.
You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..
You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.
Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.
“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.
“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”
“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”
A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”
He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.
“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”
Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.
“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”
“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”
You giggle, taking a moment to think.
“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”
“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”
His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.
Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.
Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher. 
“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”
You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple. 
Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.
Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.
“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.
“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.
“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”
He pauses for dramatic effect. 
“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”
You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”
“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”
“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.
Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”
His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.
You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.
You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.
The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform. 
“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.
“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”
You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you. 
“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.
The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you. 
“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”
Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.
“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops. 
He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”
He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)
You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.
ii. orchid club square
Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.
The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.
You clench your jaw in mild annoyance. 
“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”
You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.
A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree. 
“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.
You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise. 
“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”
“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”
She giggles algorithmically.
“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”
You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.
However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.
The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.
The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.
She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.
You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.
Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”
He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.
“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”
He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.
“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.
iii. club 2
The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties. 
There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.
“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”
You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here. 
“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”
“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.
“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”
He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.
“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.
“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.
Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.
“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?” 
“I mean, sort of.”
“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.
“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.
“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”
Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles. 
Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically. 
“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”
“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.
“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”
“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”
“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”
"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate. 
"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"
She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.
“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang. 
“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”
“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”
“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”
You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”
“Oh, we’ll get there.”
Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.
“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”
“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”
Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”
He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.
You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.
You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.
“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”
Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.
The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you. 
“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”
You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.
Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.
“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”
“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”
You shrug.
“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”
“I’m not a child,” you snap.
“My mom says childish people say that.”
“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”
He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.
Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.
However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.
"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”
 “You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."
He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips. 
"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."
"We could do it for real." 
"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."
"Sorry, sorry."
“Who are you even hiding from?”
“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“You have a bodyguard?”
“More like a babysitter.”
You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”
He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.
“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”
“They think you’re doing something illegal?”
“No. I don’t think I am.”
You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”
“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”
He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.
“Your babysitter’s gone?”
“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”
“The what?”
“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”
“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”
“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”
 You laugh, turning your attention to  the food table.
“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.
“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”
“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.
There’s a pause.
“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”
Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating. 
It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.
iv. fireworks viewpoint
“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”
Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes. 
The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.
This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.
"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"
You hum. "Stuff."
"This place is pretty cool, huh?"
That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."
Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."
You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.
"That would be difficult," you mutter.
"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”
The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?
“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”
He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing. 
You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.
“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”
“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”
“I can. And I will.”
“Ugh. Move on.”
“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.
It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”
He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.
“Do you have money then?”
“Uh.”
“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”
“I… uh—”
“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”
‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.
His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”
“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”
“Don’t take her side, (name).” 
You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one. 
“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.
“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you. 
You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”
He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”
“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”
“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”
“Not mentally.”
He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”
You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.
In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.
The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.
You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.
“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.
You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart. 
“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.
“Wh-what is?”
“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”
“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”
“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”
Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”
Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom. 
No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.
"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.
"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.
Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.
v. two-four-seven convenience store
College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.
“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.
You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds. 
It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.
"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements. 
"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."
"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"
You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."
"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"
"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.
“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.
“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.
However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.
The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.
“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”
“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”
“Oh.”
As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.
Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious. 
“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”
“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”
You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.
“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”
You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”
“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”
You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.
“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.
"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"
"Not from me," he says, smiling. 
Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.
"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.
“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”
You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"
"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”
“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”
You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.
“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?” 
He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.
“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”
You can’t exactly respond to that very well.
“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”
You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"
"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."
You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."
You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.
"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"
"Slow down. There's a year to go."
Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.
You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.
Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.
“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”
“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.
“Your babysitter?”
“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”
You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times. 
“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”
“I’ve never seen that.”
“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”
You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.
Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”
“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”
Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly. 
“You’re so silly,” you mutter. 
“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.
You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.
vi. blue moon station
It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces. 
Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.
"Is that a…?"
"A tourist bot, yes."
"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.
"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.
"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."
That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.
The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.
Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.
“You good?”
Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.
You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines. 
“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”
Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.
The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.
Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.
“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.
“What?” 
You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”
You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)
The night has a different opinion.
“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.
The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire. 
“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”
“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”
The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”
He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.
“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly. 
vii. jasmine private lounge
You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.
You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.
“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”
You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.
"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."
He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."
"And you're pretty decent-looking—"
"I know that."
"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"
"Uh, that's your question?"
You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.
"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."
"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'
"You."
You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"
Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.
“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.
You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.
“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.
“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”
“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”
Yangyang makes a face at that.
"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you. 
"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely. 
"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.
"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back. 
His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.
“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.
Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.
“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”
“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.
“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”
Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue  glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care? 
“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.
You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous. 
"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.
“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”
Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”
Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.
“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.” 
“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.
“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”
You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.
"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."
The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.
"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”
"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you. 
"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."
"Oh," you respond. "Really?"
Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."
"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.
You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.
Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"
Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."
Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.
You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.
"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."
Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.
“You must be tired,” he mutters.
“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”
“Hm?”
“Why do you hang around me?”
“Do you not… want me to?”
“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”
You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”
“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”
You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.
“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.
You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.
Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.
Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.
"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."
You frown.
"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"
"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."
When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.
You straighten. “We should get back home.”
“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.
You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.
“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”
“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question. 
“How are you so nice to people?”
“I think people are nice.”
“Why do you like parties?”
“They’re fun.”
“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.
“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”
A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.
“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”
“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”
There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced. 
The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms. 
It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.
This is going to be a long night.
viii. home 
You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.
You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.
“Yangyang?!”
He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.
“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?
“Yangyang!”
“Huh? Oh!”
He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.
"Did- Did we…?"
Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.
"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”
Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.
“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."
You avoid eye contact in embarrassment. 
“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”
You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense. 
“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”
“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.
“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.
“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”
“What?”
“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”
You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.
Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”
“What were we doing last night then?”
“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”
You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.
“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”
“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.
He turns around right then. "By the way…"
You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.
"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"
You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.
"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot." 
“Okay, that was mean.”
Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.
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And that kids is, how I met your mother   Chapter 5 - Cornelia Street
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We were in the backseat Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar "I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead Leading us home
And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends I'd never walk Cornelia Street again That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again I'd never walk Cornelia Street again
Summary: While you are beginning again in Ravka, Kaz Brekker contemplates and reminisces about how you were the one who quietly made a home in his cold heart and is addicted to the terrible ache in his heart that he feels keenly at your absence in his life. 
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Reader, Nikolai Lantsov x Six of Crows Reader, Kaz Brekker x Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky x Reader (Platonic), Nina Zenik x Reader (Platonic), Genya Safin x Reader (Platonic), Six of Crows x Reader (Platonic). 
Warnings: Pure sweet fluff, humor, lots of angst, unrequited love that might be requited, denial, pining, mentions of death and violence, Dregs being legends, Kaz Brekker being an absolute emotionally constipated asshole in denial.
A/N: Hi everyone! I’m very grateful for your kindness, love and support that encourages me to keep going! I apologize for the delay but here is the long awaited Chapter 5 to this work, you have all been waiting for patiently so thank you for your patience and understanding! I’ve written this chapter from Kaz’ POV explaining his feelings and thoughts because I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time and it was a challenge but I finally did it! 
I hope you all like it and I’m excited! Let me know your thoughts and comments on my work because I really struggled through writer’s block on this one.
I love you all! Happy reading!
Chapter 1 - Until I Found Her
Chapter 2 - Labyrinth
Chapter 3 - Call it what you want
Chapter 4 -  Someone to Stay
Ketterdam was dark and dismal full of hidden secrets and monsters in the shadows. The city was built on blood and secrets and no one knew that better than the man who now ruled it, Kaz Brekker. 
As Kaz Brekker strode through the crowded streets of Ketterdam filled with gullible pigeons and hungry monsters, he felt empty and alone. It was a feeling now he knew all too well though he tried to ignore it. The feeling ached and hurt him in places he didn’t know he had for the last few weeks. Kaz felt terrible these days, his mood completely sour and ill - tempered than usual frightening the Dregs, hurting his enemies and concerning his friends. Kaz couldn’t sleep the last few weeks as he tossed and turned restlessly in his empty and cold bed and in the rare moments he sunk into a fitful slumber, he was dreamt of you and woke up with sweat running down his forehead and gasps. 
In the moments of sleep, he dreamt of you. The dreams always started the same way... there you were smiling at him as he reached for you, as he pressed a hungry kiss onto your sweet lips devouring you eagerly as both of you indulged in happiness and love that was only yours. But it would all fall down when the thick darkness began to envelope their surroundings and though they tried to escape it, you both would be caught in it, trapped within a dark and deserted place where nothing grew. Kaz remembered feeling your hand brush against his in the darkness. It wouldn’t make sense but suddenly the darkness would thin out slightly and they were both alone in a ship that had been wrecked as a storm poured down on them. In his dream, Kaz and you were trying to find a way out of the ship wreck but out of the blue, a shadowy figure shoots at Kaz but the bullet never reaches Kaz. Kaz wonders why he is unharmed as he realizes that in the cold of the stormy night, you had wrapped yourself around him and taken the bullet for him. Kaz watches you bleed as the life drained away from your eyes and the storm drowns you and he loses you. 
He hates this feeling of helplessness and fear he feels when he wakes up and realizes it isn’t real, it was just a nightmare but it hurts more when it hits him that you aren’t around to quiet his fears with the gentleness in your eyes and the touch of your hand. 
Since you left Ketterdam, the days dragged on and time seemed to pass by completely slowly infuriating Kaz who was haunted by you and took out his anger on everyone else. Everyone in Ketterdam feared him more than ever, and the Crows were praying for your swift return. 
Kaz remembered the first time he had seen you. It was a moment he would never forget. 
The cold season was oncoming and the Crows had heard of stories of the number of children increased in Ketterdam who were shivering in the cold, starving and had no shelter. As they made their way to the Slat that provided them warmth as they talked and laughed, Jesper’s eyes had landed on a girl dressed in a shabby and raggedy dress standing on the dirty and wet street with baskets in her arms as she stared at him hungrily. 
Jesper was used to people staring at him. Everyone stared at him in admiration, fear, awe and lust and Jesper loved it. But Jesper had never felt anyone stare at him hungrily with a wistful look. It made him feel sad as he met your hungry and starved eyes that stared at him greedily and thought that you were one of those poor beggar children who had nothing to eat and no one to go to. It never occurred to him that you had been staring at him hungrily because you were greedy and starving for the warm and happy life he led with his friends, the laughter and mischievousness that glittered in his kind eyes and that you just wanted to go back to the better days where you had your brother by your side, and everything was just perfect and unspoiled. Jesper only saw your ragged clothes, hungry eyes, skinny figure that shivered in the cold. 
And that’s why Jesper thrust his hand into his pocket and took the money he had been meaning to gamble and took off his coat as well as he walked toward you with kindness “Here you go, dear. Take this money and my coat. It’ll keep you warm.”
You had been startled and alarmed as you realized the boy with a warm and sunny disposition you had been staring at had mistaken you for a beggar girl and you realized you looked like one of the shabby and skinny poor children, the ones you had always been generous to back at home. The realization hit you like a hurricane with humiliation as you grew red and then deathly white in embarrassment as you thought of how far you had fallen down from grace. 
And that’s why you broke into a laugh because you were close to crying as you exclaimed your heart touched at the boy’s kindness because all your time spent in Ketterdam, kindness had been very rare to you “Oh no! Oh no, thank you! I must refuse!”
The Crows who had been watching the scene unfold, waiting for Jesper patiently looked in intrigue and interest at you. Kaz raised his head to truly look at you because it was your voice that had interested all of them especially him as he took a few steps forward to listen to you. You did not speak in a manner of an ordinary street child but your manners belonged to a girl who was well bred and raised in a good household. A manner of a princess, mused Kaz as he looked at you intently. 
But Jesper was not to be moved away as he placed his coat over you and put the money in the palm of your hand with kindness etched on his face “You mustn’t refuse! Don’t worry, I have plenty of coats and trust me, this one will keep you really warm. And you must use this money to buy food. If there’s anything you need from me, just ask for Jesper at the Crow Club.”
You saw something so kind and generous in his face that you knew to refuse would break his heart and you didn’t want to disappoint him. So you tightened the very warm coat around you and gratefully accepted the kruge from Jesper who grinned happily though your pride felt stung and your cheeks burned bitterly. You had known that you looked weary and shabby but until now you didn’t know you looked like a beggar girl. 
His grin reminded you so much of your brother and his kindness was such a beautiful thing that you choked on a sob of humiliation and pain, reminiscence and happiness as you flung your arms around him “Thank you! Thank you so much! You are such a kind, sweet and generous darling boy!”
And with those words, you let go of Jesper who smiled happily and you left feeling warm. Kaz’ eyes widened at your response as Jesper skipped back towards them with a happy grin and Kaz reprimanded Jesper “Jesper! Why did you do that? That girl is not a beggar! She didn’t speak like a beggar or look like a beggar!”
“And she didn’t beg. I thought she would be angry with you. Sometimes, it makes people angry to be taken for beggars when they are not.” said Inej who felt sympathetic for you but she agreed with Kaz because there had been something very different about her. 
“She wasn’t angry.” replied Jesper dismayed at his friends reactions but firm in what he had done and happy because he had made a difference in your life as he smiled widely “She was very happy. She laughed and hugged me and said I was a kind, sweet and generous darling boy! And I was!”
Kaz and Inej exchanged thoughtful glances as Kaz felt mystified by you and said “An ordinary beggar girl would have never said that. They would have just accepted the money and thanked you quickly or even respectfully bobbed a curtesy.”
From that moment on, Kaz Brekker was profoundly interested in you. Not just Kaz Brekker but the Crows and nearly all of the Dregs. You knew nothing of this new interest in you and never appeared at the Crow Club seeking Jesper Fahey but whenever you passed the Slat in your broken shoes and worn out clothes, your hair tucked with a ribbon, faces would appear at the window to take a good look at you, many discussions concerning you were held and you were nicknamed at the girl who is not a beggar. It was hilarious when the Dregs said it in a hurry. 
Inej who had followed you and found information about you, told Kaz and Jesper about you “She is alone in Ketterdam. She doesn’t have anybody - she’s an orphan. She’s kind of a servant at the Van Eck mansion. She runs errands, carries parcels and does anything they tell her to.”
Inej’s anger was evident as she spoke fiercely, her hands clenched “They work her to the bone - sending her on long and tiresome errands without any proper clothing. And they punish her, hit her and deprive her of food and starve her and she doesn’t even have a proper place to sleep.”
Jesper looked like he was one second away from marching to the Van Eck mansion and getting you out of there but Inej wasn’t done as she continued “But she’s really strong. She’s friends with a crow that comes to her window and a rat in her room that she tamed.”
Jesper started laughing in amusement and wonder as his eyes gleamed in fondness “Oh! She’s odd that one but I believe I am beginning to like her!”
Kaz hid the little smile that threatened to burst at the thought of you taming and being friends with animals as he listened to Inej “And as for people who are nice to her... the Van Eck boy and her are friends. He’s the only one who is nice to her in that house.”
“What? You mean, Van Eck’s son is friends with the girl who isn’t a beggar?” asked Jesper in interest and intrigue as he snorted in amusement while Kaz sat up in interest “What? Does his daddy know?”
“No. The visits are secret and very rare. The Van Eck boy comes to her room at night whenever it’s safe, with food and books. And she reads to him and tells him stories and they talk and pretend that the attic she lives in is somewhere nicer. But she’s not a beggar.”
Kaz listened to this in rapt attention as he thought of you braving your unbearable life with a vivid imagination and determination. Perhaps that’s when Kaz had begun to like her unbeknownst to him.
The next time Kaz saw you was when he was on his way to the Slat after a negotiation and he spotted your dark mane of hair tied with a narrow ribbon as you slipped through the crowd and something in him ignited fiercely as he followed you quietly in interest. This day was a wretched one. His leg ached bitterly but he followed you nevertheless as he observed you were dressed in a dark blue dress that had grown shabbier and worn out, your shoes were downtrodden and wet with water that filled it, the coat around your shoulders was Jesper’s, your face pinched and starved and cold with blue and your heavy thick mane of dark hair was tied in a narrow ribbon. 
That day was wretchedly freezing and dreary, the street wet and sloppy and Kaz observed how the wind tried to drag the coat Jesper had given you as you waded through the mud, the water filling your broken shoes. Although Kaz knew of your position in the Van Eck household, he truly did not know the extent to which the ill tempered and depressed staff treated you as a slave driving you on errands on the worst days. Kaz didn’t know that today of all days, you were trying to keep away the thoughts of your ravenous hunger by thinking of more pleasant and lovelier thoughts of being in dry and beautiful clothes, eating the most delicious food in the company of those whom you loved the best. He did not know for you, your imagination and making up stories and pretending was your way of coping and being strong in the hell of this city. 
Kaz observed you stop at a bakery as you stared hungrily at the pastries, buns and cakes on display when your attention seemed to shift to a little beggar boy with untamable wild curly hair, a pale face with big hungry eyes and dirty clothes as he wrapped himself with rags to keep warm from the freezing cold. The boy was younger than Kaz himself and Kaz observed you talk softly and kindly to the boy for a few moments, your lips nearly blue from the cold. Kaz waited in the shadows as he saw you finish the conversation with the little hungry boy and look at him with an odd look in your eyes. 
Kaz watched keenly as you entered the bakery where you were greeted by a friendly and kind boy with unruly brown hair and watched you point for three waffles. The nice and warm ones that had just been made. Kaz quietly watched the baker boy throw in five waffles in the bag for you and you seemed to point his mistake to Kaz’ surprise. Kaz wondered why you wouldn’t just take it and leave when you were so hungry. But the baker boy just smiled kindly and gave the bag to you as you stumbled out of the bakery and look at the little boy who seemed to be crying in suffering and starvation. 
Kaz urged you to leave. You had what you wanted, there was no time for you to think about others. 
But to his great shock, you knelt down before the boy as you gently smiled at him and handed him one waffle. The boy looked at you in amazement as if you had performed a miracle and began to eat it up wildly as if he was afraid that the waffle would vanish any time if he didn’t devour it up soon. Kaz was frozen in shock as he watched you place the rest of the waffles in the little beggar boy’s hands as you said something kind to the boy and ruffled his hair. The savage beggar boy was too hungry to give thanks as you left him to eat knowing that he was starving and the beggar boy looked up to see the vanishing figure of you at the end of the street. 
Kaz didn’t know why but he knew that you could have eaten up all five waffles without hesitation. He had seen it in your eyes. And yet, you had sacrificed it for this poor child you barely knew. As he reflected on his thoughts, curiosity got the better of him as he strode toward the boy. 
“Who gave you those waffles?”
The boy nodded toward your vanishing figure and Kaz queried curiously “What did she say to you?”
The boy looked at Kaz distrustfully but answered “Asked me if I was ‘ungry.”
“What did you say?”
“Said I had nothin to eat.”
“And then she bought the waffles and gave it to you?”
The boy nodded and although Kaz knew the answer, he had to hear it from the boy’s mouth “How many?”
“Five.”
Something in Kaz’ seemed to ignite at the answer. He had seen it was five but he couldn’t quite believe that the girl would be so stupid, self - sacrificing and kind to give the food she could have sustained herself with to a complete stranger who she didn’t know. It was absolutely an act of stupidity to Kaz and yet it moved and touched Kaz in a way it had not before. Ketterdam was a city known for cruelty and exploitation with darkness of the hearts spreading through it like a disease but this girl had proven that her heart was a ray of sunshine, the kindness and goodness in her soul was still not snatched by this city even though she faced the worst trials of adversity. 
Kaz felt himself transported to his childhood where Jordie and him were completely poor and hungry. How different would their lives have been if there had been someone like her, someone who had been willing to share and listen to their woes and someone who had been completely good and kind to them without expectations and conditions. 
Kaz thought of your hungry eyes and cold figure. He knew you had wanted those waffles. He knew that you could have eaten all of those waffles and even more but instead you chose to give it to a little boy who was hungrier and colder than you were. 
Perhaps your act of goodness stirred something in his cold heart because Kaz inquired “Are you still hungry?”
“I’m always ‘ungry. But it ain’t half that bad now.”
Kaz was inspired by your little act of goodness that was enormous in his eyes as the next few words slipped his mouth “Go to the Crow Club and tell them Kaz Brekker sent you to be looked after by Inej Ghafa. She’ll help you get yourself warm and give you something to eat.”
The little urchin got up and obeyed because he didn’t care what was happening or what happened next as long as he was given a place where warmth and food was supplied. As Kaz looked at the little urchin leaving, he realized that he had done this for your sake and he decided to follow you because now he had started to see you, he couldn’t stop. 
Kaz found himself at the Van Eck household where he saw you entering it with baskets and parcels in your hands, completely exhausted. 
Kaz hid among the bushes having a good vantage point to see everything going on as he saw Van Eck accompanied by his son, both of them dressed in warm clothing as they sat at a table full of warm food with books scattered on it as Van Eck who was in a foul temper scolded the quiet son. 
When you entered the garden, you ran into Van Eck who was already in a savage temper as he snapped “Where were you? You have been wasting time, lingering out and about for hours.”
Kaz noticed how tired you looked but you still managed to reply faintly and politely “It was wet and muddy. It was hard to walk because my shoes were so bad and slippery.”
“Do not lie. You shall go without dinner tonight.” stated Van Eck savagely while his son turned quite pale. 
“I have had nothing to eat since this week.” Kaz heard you reply in a faint and low voice and felt himself tremble in savage anger. 
“Then all the better! You shall have no breakfast, lunch or dinner tomorrow either! That will teach you how to behave like a proper servant!” 
Kaz was certain you were trembling in hunger and cold as you grew pale and on the verge of breaking down when the son spoke up softly yet boldly “Father, please! She’s just a girl. You cannot starve -”
Van Eck slapped his son so hard that the boy nearly stumbled back and you gasped in horror and fear while Kaz watched in curiosity “You will speak when you are spoken to! Have you no pride? She is not a girl, she is a servant and she will be treated as so! Truly, Wylan, you disappoint me with that soft heart of yours. Go to your room and think about yourself. Have you never thought of what I think of you and try to become someone that I can be proud of?”
Wylan’s eyes were misty but it was your face that caught Van Eck’s attention. It had caught Kaz’ attention too for your face was serious and solemn, quiet and sad as you fixed your eyes on Van Eck who glared at you fiercely. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Kaz’ eyes were on you as you stood steadfast and fearless in front of Van Eck as you answered quietly “I was thinking.”
By the expression on Van Eck’s face, Kaz realized that he had dealt with situations like this with you before as he demanded “Thinking of what? Beg my pardon for thinking.”
“I shall not beg your pardon for thinking.” you replied honestly as Kaz’ looked at you, your expression serious and sad as you replied quietly “I was thinking of what my father would think and do if he knew where I was today.”
Kaz’ saw Van Eck go red and then a dangerous purple as he flew at you and shook you violently, slapping your cheek and boxing your ears as you gasped in pain from the endless blows you received as Van Eck ignored Wylan’s protests as he snapped “You insolent child! How dare you be so impolite to your employer!”
There was a fire of fury that ignited in Kaz as he watched you take the blows in agony and pain as you hid back your tears. When Van Eck was finished with you, your cheeks were red and smarting and there was a slight wound from the blows you received but Kaz’ felt curious and awed as he saw your eyes were bright as stars as you let out a little amused laugh that shocked Van Eck who saw that you were not frightened by him. 
Kaz felt curiosity stir as he watched you in amazement as you laughed and then bobbed a mocking curtesy “Excuse me for laughing if it is impolite but I cannot help it when there is a clown in front of me.”
Kaz couldn’t help but grin at her daring sassiness as she ran away leaving Van Eck struggling with his rage and Wylan hiding a small smile as his eyes lingered on her vanishing figure. 
That day, as Kaz sat in his office in the Slat, he thought of your tight and pinched face, your starved and hungry eyes that held determination and thoughtfulness in them and your quiet polite manners and daring bravery. Kaz was fascinated by you from the moment he had seen you. You reminded him of a girl in his childhood. You were vastly different from this girl but yet there was something about you that reminded him of the girl back in his village Lij. 
Everyone called her the Little Empress. She was the daughter of a rich and respected man who was a businessman in Ketterdam. Her father kept her in the grand mansion and there were many stories and rumors about her and her dangerous father that Jordie used to tell Kaz to pass the time because Kaz was fascinated by the fairytale life they lived. Kaz remembers the times he did catch rare glimpses of her and believed that the name Little Empress fitted her. 
Kaz had seen her traveling in a carriage with her father as she held onto his arm. Kaz had seen her hand in hand with her father, surrounded by elegant governesses and intimidating men and women as they walked through the village commanding respect. Kaz’ eyes widened in awe and wonder every time he glimpsed her, for she looked very pretty and beautiful in her velvet dresses trimmed with furs, lace and satin dresses with puffed sleeves, lovely hats, ermine coats and muffs and tiny gloves that fitted her little hands, handkerchiefs and silk stockings that Kaz heard the villagers whisper that the little girl had a wardrobe that was much too grand for a child of seven. Kaz had learned the father was a gangster from his father but fond of his little girl and wanted his child to have everything he admired and everything he admired himself. Jordie murmured that though she had everything, the little girl was not spoiled because once Jordie had bumped into her on an errand and when she had seen Jordie cold and shivering, she had offered her silk scarf and her cloak and insisted on buying him a hot meal and food for his family as well. Kaz had never spoken to the Little Empress but all he knew of her is that she lived grandly with a gangster father who spoiled her, governesses who taught her everything she needed to know and people who protected her. 
Though Kaz barely remembers much of his life in his village, one of the memories he does remember is meeting the gangster, the father of the Little Empress who visited their farm to buy a horse for his daughter. Kaz’ father knew the gangster through casual acquaintance for both men had fondness and affection for horses and greeted the gangster excited about finding a horse for his daughter. They both walked around as Kaz’ father talked about the special qualities of each horse but the gangster was waiting for the right horse. 
Kaz and Jordie left their village after their father’s death and a week after that, they heard that the gangster’s house was burned to ashes with everyone in it and there was no possibility of any survivors. Kaz had thought of the Little Empress burning in the fire and had felt a pit of sadness grow at the thought of the gangster and the pretty Little Empress dying in the fire. Their faces were now blurry to him but he still remembered the excitement and amazement he felt every time he caught a glimpse of her. 
You were not like the Little Empress at all. You were dirty, shabby, poor and worn out. But there was something in your manner that reminded him of the Little Empress. Something bold and kind, smart and resilient that impressed Kaz who was lost in thoughts of you. 
Kaz kept an eye out for you but after a while, you stopped passing by the Slat and Crow Club with parcels and baskets in your arms. Kaz waited for you to pass by the Slat and Crow Club but as days went by, your presence did not grace them and the Dregs felt worried about the girl who was not a beggar. Kaz hid all the worry as he sent Inej to look out for you but you had disappeared from Ketterdam. Kaz felt something in him sink in dark pain when Inej bought back the news that she couldn’t find you anywhere as he realized that you had not survived the cruelty and mercilessness of Ketterdam. After your disappearance, the Van Eck boy mysteriously disappeared as well. Though Kaz, Inej and Jesper searched valiantly for you, their efforts were in vain because you were nowhere to be found and no one knew of where you were. 
After many months after your disappearance, Kaz Brekker who was working on a heist regarding taking down one of the prominent gangs that abducted young children heard stories and rumors of an infamous spy and an intelligent detective who could find anyone no matter how far they ran and how hard they tried to hide away from the rest of the world. This spy was a shadow, an enigma and a mystery that had no name but many people in Ketterdam owed their lives to this spy because this spy would take any job given to them and do it successfully with style. This was a unique spy different from the ones who dominated Ketterdam. This spy took on cases of murder, missing children, abusive households, exposing corruption and helped people with their skillset. The stories and rumors boasted of a spy who was dangerous, uncatchable, intelligent and always one step ahead of those who thought they had the spy in a trap. 
Kaz searched for this ruthless and smart spy endlessly because it was rumored they were working on the same case as him and secondly their skillset could be valuable to him. Finally, you got into a fight with one of the Dregs leaving him seriously injured. Kaz who had seen the injuries on his Dreg decided to find you once and for all as he send Inej, Jesper and Nina to inquire and found out that you occasionally hung out at a particular pub where people knew your identity but protected you. He learned that you went by name Pandora Silvertongue in the profession.   
Kaz remembered stepping into the bar that belonged to the boy with unruly hair that had been kind to you that day. The boy had now upgraded his bar to a dining and drinking pub where the patrons were drinking and eating, laughing and singing like strangled cats while the boy smiled as he poured them more drinks. 
When the boy with unruly hair saw Kaz, Inej and Jesper enter, his eyes widened in recognition and fear and Kaz announced in a steely voice that was not to be challenged “Is there anyone named Pandora Silvertongue?” 
Everyone was quiet in fear and fright as no one dared to breath and Jesper took one of his revolvers and shot it to the air startling the patrons who screamed in fear as Kaz announced once again with authority “I said is there anyone named Pandora Silvertongue?”
The private room of the bar opened up as a girl with a spring in her step, color in her cheeks stepped out calmly as her eyes glinted with understanding and fearlessness. Kaz’, Inej’ and Jesper’s  eyes widened in shock and amazement as they recognized you, the girl who was not a beggar who they had thought disappeared from Ketterdam but here you were alive and well. 
Kaz could feel his breath quicken as his eyes never left you who was dressed in a fine dark blue dress as you looked at the Crows and then at the bartender with authority that you commanded naturally “Steve, get them a drink. Everyone else go home.”
Everyone obeyed your command as they immediately stumbled out of the bar. You seated yourself at a table carelessly and elegantly without extending an invitation to the Crows to join you because you showed no signs of fearing them while Steve poured fine whisky for all of them as you had ordered. 
When Steve finished pouring the drinks, you looked at the bartender with a quiet gleam in your eyes “You go home.”
“But -”
“I said go home.” you said in a calm and quiet voice but everyone understood you shouldn’t be challenged as Steve cast a good protective and concerned look at you and scuttled to the back. 
You lit a cigarette airily and carelessly as you looked at Kaz Brekker as if he was nothing special who was still recovering from his shock and Jesper broke the silence with a grin “The girl who is not a beggar! It’s you! We were so worried about you! We thought you had died - or disappeared but you look so awesome!”
You smiled slightly but before you could reply, Kaz spoke sharply in a hard tone “So I suppose you are the infamous Pandora Silvertongue because you are looking up and down at me like you aren’t afraid of me.”
You merely smiled as you replied calmly and quietly taking a puff of your cigarette “I want to know what you want, Mr. Brekker.”
But before Kaz could say anything, Jesper jumped in “We’re so glad you are alright. We were worried about you, you know? I mean, we used to make up stories and theories about who you were. You probably don’t remember me -”
“Jesper Fahey from the Crow Club.” you said with a genuine smile as you nodded at him “I never forget anyone who has been kind to me. Thank you for being warm and kind on one of the many dark days I had.”
“Oh... it was nothing.”
“No, it was something. It was something extraordinary.” you replied with a genuinely warm and grateful smile as Jesper felt appreciated and happy. 
“I want to know what you want, Mr. Brekker.” you replied calmly and quietly as you took a puff of your cigarette. “What are you doing here?”
“Your name is Pandora Silvertongue. In the past few months, you have earned a reputation for being a dangerous spy and an intelligent detective who no one can hide anything from. You also tutor Ketterdam students. You’ve made yourself more enemies than friends. You’re in danger.” informed Kaz calmly with a deadpanned expression as he gazed at you skeptically and perceptively. 
“You’ve done your research but you are still not answering my question.” you replied in amusement as you dabbed your cigarette into the ashtray 
Kaz saw you raise your eyebrows at him and intrigue spark in your eyes as he began “A few weeks ago, someone started to capture Dregs. Not just any Dregs, female Dregs were targeted, lured into isolated areas, tortured and killed. Their eyes were gouged and hearts were ripped out and after three murders, a note was left at the fourth murder.”
You listened to Kaz who handed you the information on the murders as you looked through the papers “This is all the information we have on the killer. We’ve tried to follow and keep tabs on each Dreg but there is little progress. We need to know who the killer is so we can take him down.”
“I need to examine the bodies of the victims and visit the location of each murder to determine the behavioral patterns of the victims and murderers, preferably with one of you so I can role play and get inside their minds.” you replied thoughtfully as you flipped through each page quickly while Kaz nodded “Was the murder weapon left at the scene?”
“No. Who would be stupid enough to do that?” laughed Jesper rolling his eyes at you. 
“Killers who enjoy the thrill of the chase. To them, killing isn’t just a crime, it’s an emotional release and enjoyment.” you replied as you ran your hand through your hair, your face full of concentration and focus making you oddly attractive to Kaz “Was anything taken away from the victims when they were found?”
“Their weapons.” answered Kaz curtly 
“Well, I’ll look into everything about these girls. From their family backgrounds, traumas, how they were recruited, special skills, who they were close to and their daily routines. I also look into their autopsy reports.” you stated firmly as you closed the file and looked at an unreadable Kaz, a hopeful Inej and amazed Jesper who listened attentively to you and you were silent for a few moments as you read the note “But I can tell you this about the killer from the note.”
Kaz leaned slightly forward in interest as he waited in anticipation “Did you ever wonder why there was a note left on the fourth murder? It’s because the first three killings didn’t get the attention he wanted it to. So, to get the glory and revel in it, the killer left the note. What he doesn’t know is... he also left clues as to how to find him.”
Kaz raised his eyebrows because he couldn’t quite believe you had found clues regarding the killer so soon but he nodded at you to continue. 
“From what you told me about the killer, he is not confident enough to initiate social contact so he lures them into isolation. Look at the letters, the style of writing - not confident enough but charming enough to be trustworthy. Emotional indicators are analyzed through slants. The writer’s handwriting shows signs of emotional repression and violence. And the pressure if you look closely is excessively heavy which shows that he is uptight hiding trauma and can easily overreact with excessive violence.” you stated in one breath as you gestured to the handwriting in the letter while Kaz looked at you in hidden wonder and admiration, impressed by your intelligence. 
Jesper was the first one to find his tongue “You got all that from his handwriting?”
“Handwriting is an indicator of personality and behavior. It symbolizes your emotions at the given time just like your facial expressions parallel the way you are feeling and speaking.” you replied smartly while Kaz processed this new information “But the interesting thing about this note is - it’s a line from a Kaelish poem. It says ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, tell no more lies about who you are.’”
Inej looked at Kaz and Jesper and then at you thoughtfully as she offered “So then, we are looking for someone Kaelish, well versed in literature, educated, narcistic and organized?”
You looked at Kaz confidently and smartly, with a grim glint in your eyes “I would cut off Kaelish. This person wants you to narrow it down to Kaelish people. Right now, you are looking for someone who knows the language of Kaelish, who is well - versed in literature, violent when provoked, smart and organized and charming and trustworthy and someone who needs to be in control. This was a person all these three girls knew and trusted... and maybe, it’s someone you know too. Someone who knows the procedures of the Dregs and how things work in there. This was someone who stalked each girl, observed the times she did everything, places she went to, people she talked to and organized the crime accordingly.” 
“So we cannot eliminate the possibility that it might be one of the Dregs.” replied Kaz calmly as he thought of the possible suspects and the people who the three girls had in common. 
“No. In fact, I believe you might have even met the killer, perhaps offering condolences for the deaths of the girls or trying to help in any way they can to find them. Keep a sharp eye and trust no one.” you replied sharply and grimly and then after a long moment of silence, your lips curved into a smile “How do you feel about the violin?”
Kaz, Jesper and Inej exchanged surprised glances because that was the last question they expected “What?”
“Well, I play the violin when I’m thinking. Will that be a problem? I also need a large space to pace about, I’m a coffee addict and I don’t talk for days on end and sometimes I talk to myself because I’m the only one in the room who makes sense. Will that bother you? Potential colleagues should know the worst about each other.” you stated easily and calmly with a charming and sweet smile as you finished the last of your whisky. 
Jesper and Inej exchanged amused glances at how Kaz looked surprised at you taking charge and twisting the conversation to surprise him as he replied “Colleagues? Who said anything about becoming a Dreg?”
“I did. Told Nina Zenik day before yesterday over waffles that I must be a difficult and dangerous woman to work with because Pekka Rollins’ has his eye on me because I just took down one of the slavers. Now here her employer is... Kaz Brekker, the Lieutenant of the Dregs, the owner of the Crow Club, clearly wanting to get to me before Rollins does by testing me to see if I am worthy of his time and investment and lives up to Zenik’s word.” you said casually and nonchalantly as if the answer had been simple enough for anyone to understand and Kaz wondered if you had set this up on purpose as he watched you stand up and put your coat on “It isn’t really a difficult conclusion.”
Jesper grinned “I really like her.”
Inej grinned wider as she nodded “Yeah, I really like her too.”
“I’ll be in contact. I need to establish my investigation so I’ll be moving in as a bar girl and Brekker’s secretary tomorrow. That way, I can discreetly find out about what happened to the girls and who they associated with and perhaps even lure out the killer.” you replied briskly in a composed and matter - of - fact voice that Kaz did not like because he was the boss as you moved across the room swiftly “I don’t need a room, I have my own place so I won’t be around for that. I’ll meet you in the evening around at five to go check the victims and locations. Sorry, got to dash... have important things to do.”
Kaz was surprised at the nonchalance and fearlessness you held toward him and the way you treated him as your equal as he called out “Is that it?”
“Is that what?” you inquired politely as you stopped mid - step to look at Kaz in curiosity. 
“Well, we just met and now you are part of the Dregs without my permission?” replied Kaz smartly in a deadly and dangerous voice as he looked at you coldly while Inej and Jesper exchanged amused looks because Kaz seemed to have met his match.  
You didn’t seem fazed at all, in fact you seemed surprised and amused “Problem?”
“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we are meeting this evening and I suspect Pandora Silvertongue isn’t your real name.” replied Kaz smoothly and smartly as he raised his eyebrows at her with a smirk because he had to admit she had the nerve and daring combined with her intelligence and curiosity which felt oddly attractive to Kaz. 
“I know you are the Lieutenant of the Dregs, Kaz Brekker. I know you sent the Wraith to follow me yesterday. I know that Per Haskell is a puppet and you are the puppet master who one day hopes to be the leader of the Dregs but is waiting for the opportune moment. I know that you are an orphaned farm boy who was raised outside of Ketterdam in a village judging by the hint of the rural accent that is audible under your Kerch. I know you came to Ketterdam with someone you loved dearly -  the last of your family members - perhaps an older sibling. Since you are standing here alone, I know that your older sibling must have died in the firepox plague that overwhelmed Ketterdam but somehow you managed to survive and climb up the ladder in the streets, developing an aversion to touch, trust issues, avoidance of friendships, hyper vigilance, protectiveness toward Jesper who possibly reminds of your sibling by the way you look at him and reprimand him and hunger for revenge. You think the world is out to get you and you are distrustful of every single person you come into contact with because you were let down by someone you cared about. You like to think you are detached from weakness but you do care... and the reason I know that is you permanently marked yourself with that tattoo on your wrist... R... it stands for something personal... perhaps a name of someone you care about with love or hate... a reminder to you. I know that you like to pretend you are different from the rest of the criminals in the Barrel by dressing up in black like a mercher and distinguishing yourself away from them but the gloves - they hide something - perhaps your touch aversion? I know your limp is psychosomatic. And just one mention of Pekka Rollins, your face is filled with hatred but you are not competing with him for power - no, your eyes are filled with revenge. It’s personal and you intend to be the last man standing.” 
Kaz’ eyes widened as you began your explanation and analysis of him and he felt completely exposed and slightly frightened when you deducted and observed his weaknesses and shames that the world did not see because he hid it so well from them. Kaz couldn’t breath as he listened to you cleverly and calmly rattle out facts about him that no one else knew but seemed completely transparent and obvious to you and when you finished, Kaz’ knees were slightly wobbly and his grip on his cane was tight as he looked at you with something akin to fear and reverence in his heart. 
Inej and Jesper exchanged slightly anxious looks as they looked at Kaz who had gone completely pale and you grinned and winked at the three of them “That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think? The name’s Pandora Silvertongue until you’ve earned my real name and meet me in front of the Church of Ghezen!”
Kaz had been shaken to the core and had wondered how you knew about these personal things. The next time he had met you to help you with your investigate, he had been completely cold and threatening as he demanded how you found out his secrets but you simply explained your observations that had led you to conclude your deductions about him. Those observations were sharp and clever, things that the rest of the world were stupid enough to ignore and it had shocked Kaz you were clever and sharp enough to pick up on those little things. 
Though Kaz hadn’t liked how you had first approached him, he understood your value as a person and a member of the Dregs immediately. He knew that he could not let you go because there were a dozen more powerful and cruel men who were willing to get their hands on you and use you unkindly to their advantage. Kaz had enough information on the city to know that Pekka Rollins had a keen eye on your talents and wanted you all to himself. And Kaz was not going to let a dangerous and talented girl like you be Pekka’s property. 
“That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think? The name’s Pandora Silvertongue until you've earned my real name and meet me in front of the Church of Ghezen!”
You worked undercover as a bargirl and Kaz’ secretary for two weeks in the Crow Club and the Slat. Kaz noticed that you wasted no time in charming everyone and making friends with people who warmed up to you and opened their hearts, confiding their deepest and darkest secrets to you. You were an efficient and effective hard worker who never gave anyone reason to doubt that you were a spy as you observed and worked on the case. There were times you would drive Kaz crazy with your endless playing of the violin at midnight when you needed to think, your coffee addiction that was worse than his and you muttering under your breath, spouting completely random but interesting facts that surprised everyone out of nowhere and sometimes completely zoning out lost in thought ignoring his presence. Kaz found it truly annoying and exasperating but Inej, Nina and Jesper who were slightly patient with you found it amusing that Kaz had found someone worse than him. 
Through his time with you,  Kaz couldn’t believe you were real. Whenever you presented developments in the investigation, there were somethings such an elegant intelligence and raw thought that he had never seen in anyone else. He always would be surprised by your findings because you would up with observations that no one else would think of and was surprisingly accurate. Kaz never showed it but he was in awe of your intelligence and wondered where you had trained your mind to be like this and learned all these things. 
You had found the killer soon enough and suspected that Anika would be the next target. What you hadn’t expected the killer to do was twist his plan and take Inej hostage. Kaz and Jesper had set out to find the killer with the Dregs with your help and you were ordered to stay out of the line of fighting. But the killer had been too smart for Kaz and Jesper planning own traps for them forcing them to watch when he tried to torture Inej under the impression that Inej was Pandora Silvertongue. 
Jesper was full on panicking “PLEASE! LET HER GO! SHE’S NOT PANDORA SILVERTONGUE!”
The killer laughed as he looked at Jesper who was trying to break free “I don’t believe you.”
“You should you know. Pandora Silvertongue is nothing like her.” came a cocky and confident voice out of the dark shadows alarming everyone and getting the attention of the killer.
Inej let out a gasp, Jesper looked around in amazement and shock at your voice that had echoed out of the darkness and Kaz swore his heart jumped out of his chest in alarm and relief with overwhelming emotion that he could not describe. 
“How would you describe her, Mr. Brekker? Beautiful? Intelligent? Resourceful?” your voice asked from the distinct darkness as Kaz had tried to look around trying to search where you possibly might be hiding. 
Kaz had muttered “Disobedient.”
The killer who was one of the new Dregs grinned maniacally “Then you know what I want, don’t you, Silvertongue?”
You had answered as you had taken down one man through the darkness “I believe I do.”
The killer was maniacal at this point as he called out for you as he flashed his knife with a grin when you had appeared out of nowhere and hit the killer with a large brick on his head making the killer fall onto the floor in an unconscious heap as you had rolled your eyes at the killer “Moron.”
You had saved Inej, Jesper and Kaz in time much to their relief. Kaz had seen enough proof that you were worthy of being in the Dregs and offered you a position of the spy in part of the Dregs. You had accepted and from then on, the Crow Club and the Slat had become your home. You had become a loyal ally, a talented spy who was excellent at your job and a close friend to Kaz. Soon Kaz trusted you with the most important missions that you completed brilliantly, valued you as an important part of the Crows and began to see you as a close friend who he liked. 
Kaz prided himself on being someone who had a control over his emotions. After all, he was the most feared man in Ketterdam and his stoic and cold nature required a certain level of control. But when Kaz was with you, he felt something warm flood within him whenever you smiled at him reassuringly and teasingly, he found himself becoming a boy who craved to feel the flutter of his heart whenever you laughed at his dark and dry sense of humor, the reassurance he felt when you stayed up late with him planning heists and cleaning messes after parties. He found his eyes searching for you in the crowded Crow Club and lingering on you for a moment too long as he gazed at your charming and charismatic demeanor that enchanted him. He found your company enjoyable as both of you walked the streets of Ketterdam from the harbor to the marketplace to the Slat and you chatted enthusiastically about anything on your mind as he found himself listening in fondness as he memorized the expressions of your face. He looked forward to the nights where both of you would sit on the roof together gazing at the view of Ketterdam and looking up at the stars as you both shared bottles of whisky and laughed and confided your insecurities, wildest dreams, deepest secrets and untold thoughts to each other as he felt a connection of understanding and trust he had never felt with anyone else. 
Kaz remembered when one day Jesper had dragged him to one of his games where they had to disguise themselves and fool as many Dregs as possible. Kaz and you had been friendly competitive rivals as Kaz promised to beat you in the game. But he had been destroyed when he had only managed to fool two Dregs and you had managed to fool around ten Dregs with your disguise and cover story. 
Kaz walked toward you who was drinking as he scowled “I blew it. I only got through two Dregs.”
“Woah! I got to ten.” you had replied with a playful and sympathetic grin as you looked at him. 
“I can’t believe I lost this stupid game! I was so excited for this. What happened?” exclaimed Kaz as he sat next to you wearing a scowl as he looked completely frustrated. 
“Well, maybe you being excited is what happened. Like every time we’re planning heists, you’re always super intelligent, you take your time, you stay calm and examine every possibility. But every time we do dumb games like this, you get excited and act like a crazy idiot. My advice... don’t act like a crazy idiot.” you replied with an insightful and thoughtful smile as you looked at Kaz with a soft glimmer in your eyes.  
Kaz was surprised at your answer that made him think because it made sense at how perceptive and true it was “Thanks. That was surprisingly wise.”
“Yeah well, motherhood really opens a woman’s eyes. I finally feel as if I’m finally part of something bigger than myself.” you had dramatically said as you touched your fake pregnant belly that was part of your disguise in the game while Kaz rolled his eyes at you and slapped the fake belly in exasperation. 
You placed a protective hand on your fake belly as you gasped dramatically “Hey don’t you dare touch Kazper Jr! That’s right! It’s your baby!”
Kaz had to stop himself from laughing outright as he played along “Are you saying I knocked you up?”
“You sure did!”
Kaz liked it when you were with him. With the rest of the world, he knew you were a gold rush. Everybody wanted to have a taste of you and wanted to know what it would be like to love you. Kaz couldn’t keep his eyes off you because you were an inviting temptation as you flirted and talked with the people with such charismatic and charming sweetness that he felt a flicker of twisted jealousy that crushed him. But when you were with Kaz, though you still teased him with that charming twinkle in your eyes, you displayed a soft sense of vulnerability you never showed to the rest of the world. There was a softness and sweet sincerity in you that you gave Kaz that you never showed the rest of the world and before he could stop himself, Kaz had opened himself and showed his deepest and darkest parts baring himself vulnerable and you had accepted and loved him unconditionally. 
Kaz knew he felt something special for you, something that he never felt for anyone else and something that he couldn’t afford to feel for you in this world. In this world, sentiment was the greatest weakness and it would be used against him by the countless number of enemies who he had made on his way to greatness. So he tried to keep a distance from you as much as he could but there were times he was just drawn to you and he couldn’t stop himself from indulging in your company and worrying about you. 
Before the Ice Court, Kaz had promised Nina that he’d keep an eye on Matthias. So as he searched for Dregs who could infiltrate Hellgate, befriend Matthias and protect him, you had volunteered eagerly. But Kaz had turned down your suggestion feeling something akin to terror of losing you to the darkness and cruelty of Hellgate but when he realized that there was no one else he could truly trust and that you were not backing down from this assignment, he had reluctantly sent you into Hellgate to spy on Matthias. Your absence had been absolutely maddening as the Slat felt cold and empty without you and he worried about your wellbeing in Hellgate. When the chance to break into the Ice Court had arrived, he had seized the opportunity to break you out along with Matthias. 
Kaz remembered when he had reunited with you after your year in Hellgate. You looked completely different, grown up as if you had lived through darkness and survived to tell the tale. But the kind twinkle in your pained eyes was still there as Kaz finally caught up with you and found himself smiling genuinely in relief as he had said “Can I get a free woman a drink?”
The grin you had given him reassured his heavy heart that despite the pain you had endured, you were still completely in sync with him as you said the words he had wanted to say “I missed you, Kaz Brekker.”
You had been by his side through the Ice Court Heist and watched him take down Pekka Rollins as he enjoyed his vengeance on the man who had destroyed his life.
Kaz remembered the aftermath of celebrations when they had overthrown Pekka Rollins and taken Ketterdam to themselves. He had stood with bruises that didn’t seem to hurt but felt victorious and triumphant as he heard Nina, Inej, Wylan, Matthias and you celebrate with Jesper who announced loudly to the Dregs.
“Alright everyone! Pekka Rollins is history, we are absolute legends and we can finally walk freely around Ketterdam!” exclaimed Jesper in an absolutely celebratory mood, feeling blissful as he looked at the Crows who were grinning madly “Who wants waffles?”
You had grinned at Jesper’s infectious mood but had approached Kaz who was staring out of the window at the view of Ketterdam as you looked at Kaz “Hey, you alright? You did it. You finally got your vengeance on Pekka Rollins. 
Kaz’ lips twitched into a small smile as relief and victory blossomed in his chest at his accomplishment and looked at you curiously because he knew if you didn’t have such faith and optimism, he couldn’t have done it “How do you do it Y/N? Keep hoping. Hope is dangerous and it clouds your judgement. And yet after everything you’ve gone through, after everything that happened, everything I did... how did you still manage to hope that it could all work out?”
You smiled gently as your eyes gleamed knowingly and sincerely as you looked at him softly “Because of you. You don’t realize it, Kaz... but you’re actually the most hopeful person I’ve ever met.”
Kaz’ eyes widened as his breath hitched at her unexpected words that he was completely taken aback by as he stared at you in disbelief and surprise seeing only the truth and kindness etched on your face as you said honestly “From the day you crawled out of that harbor having lost everything you ever loved, everyone assumed your place in the world was in the bottom as the weak and lonely, a boy who was defined by loss. But you wished for more. You dared to dream and hope as you worked to climb your way up and gain the power. You dared to hope to succeed in the craziest heists and became someone who everyone feared. You dared to hope to bring down the man who was responsible for your brother’s death.” 
Kaz felt breathless at how you saw him and you smiled at him brightly “Now it’s all over. You have your whole life ahead of you.”
Kaz’ lips curled into a soft smile as he looked at you hopefully “I guess in the end, there really is no end. Just new beginnings.” 
You had tended to his injuries patiently with tenderness and kindness he did not deserve. You had saved his life countless times from taking your first gunshot that was meant for him and committing your first murder as you killed a man in cold blood to protect him. 
You had stood by his side through every questionable decision and defended him when you disagreed with him. You had been loyal to him even when he had pushed you away and lashed out at you in a cruel manner. You weren’t afraid to pushing and telling him when he was wrong and cruel with the stubborn and fiery look in your eyes. You had seen his lawless demons and dangerous ghosts that haunted him but had understood him and helped him work through it. You had seen him as the darkest demon who was dangerous and cruel and yet loved the monster within him. You knew about how he struggled with touch from the very beginning but never questioned or mocked it but simply allowed Kaz to take it slow as he started it with simple fleeting brushing of shoulders to soft fingers interlocking with each other and holding hands to the feeling of being close to you without drowning in the waters. 
You were unlike any other woman he had ever met. 
Kaz sighed as he buried his head in his hands as he remembered when it all went wrong. He had an important mission that required him to retrieve information and steal a valuable documents from the vault hidden in a highly guarded mansion of one of the merchers in Ketterdam. The mercher had a reputation for throwing lavish parties to make connections and relationships so Kaz had decided to ask you to be his pretend wife so they could disguise themselves as guests and get into the vault. 
Kaz’s eyes had flickered toward you when you had entered into his office. He had pretended to be busy but the truth was you had a way of making him painfully aware of every breath you took and every smile you flashed as you brought a warm light into his cold life and he informed you of what he needed. You had grown completely silent and your smile had vanished slightly concerning Kaz who raised his eyebrows at you waiting for your answer.
“No.” you had replied curtly and crisply as you had looked away from Kaz. “Ask Inej or Nina. Or -”
“Y/N... I want you.” Kaz had replied softly as he had slipped out of his seat and stood in front of you “You and I work well together. We make a good team together. And you are the only one I trust for this.” 
His gloved fingers had brushed against yours as he looked deeply at you waiting for your answer and you had surprised him as you smiled at him warmly as red dust scattered on your cheeks and you replied “Ask me properly and I might say yes.”
Kaz had smiled genuinely as he watched you walk away. Later, you were working late into the night with him as both of you were looking through information on a mercher that Kaz wanted to rob. Both of you dug into boxes of information that you had found of books, letters, documents, and photographs of the mercher’s life. As Kaz and you sat side by side enjoying the comforting silence of the moment, and Kaz found a photograph of two lovers laughing on the porch of their old house. It felt hard to explain but in that photograph, he saw himself and you living that life.
You had looked over at him with a small smile as your eyes flickered at the photograph “They look very happy. They must have loved each other very much.”
Kaz looked at you and he felt time stand still as he couldn’t find the right words to describe how he felt in that moment with you as he felt breathless staring into your enchanting and warm eyes and finally broke the silence as he asked “Y/N, do you want to dance with me?”
You had blushed but your smile was answer enough as you had accepted his gloved hand. Kaz’ lips twitched into a smile as he felt your hand rest upon his gently and your other arm holding onto his shoulder gently as he ran his hand softly along your waist and placed it on the small of your back. His breath hitched as he looked at your tender and sweet eyes that twinkled brilliantly as both of you began to dance around the room to the slow and romantic music echoing from downstairs as the rain splattered outside. 
At first, Kaz hated that he was nervous and clumsy tripping over himself and stepping on your toes. He was the Bastard of the Barrel who had humiliated and overthrown Pekka Rollins and now ruled Ketterdam inspiring fear with intimidation and violence and yet he couldn’t properly dance with the girl he possibly liked. 
You had grinned brightly much to Kaz’ mortification at his mistakes as he stepped on your toes once again and you offered “Hey, do you want me to teach you how to do this so you don’t hurt me or possibly yourself?”
Kaz had flushed a bright red in mortification as he had nodded “Yes.”
“Hold your back straight. Now you will lead and I will follow. And now one, two, three...” you began softly with a tender and encouraging smile as you let Kaz guide you across the floor and much to his surprise as Kaz followed the gentle hum of your words, Kaz found himself dancing without causing you any grievous injuries. 
Kaz felt his breath hitch and his heart race as he danced with you smoothly and his eyes flickered down to ensure his feet were not going to hurt you when you instructed him gently “Look into my eyes. Dancing is seeing one another for who they really are, understanding and trusting each other. That’s why I love it.”
Kaz had looked into your eyes and had seen you who had always been there for him through thick and thin and had changed him in the most unimaginable ways as he murmured softly “I see you.”
You had sucked in a breath as your eyes had grown wide but you had smiled softly and joyfully “You dance incredibly.”
“All because I have a talented teacher.” replied Kaz smoothly with a soft smile as he spun you around as you chuckled. 
Kaz had never felt so light-hearted and happy as he spun you around and held you in his arms as both of danced perfectly together in harmony. Kaz knew it felt foolish to give in so easily to how he was feeling but in this moment, he didn’t care as light and humor danced in his eyes feeling weightless, all the burdens and worries he carried washed away as he held you in his arms as you glowed in happiness and laughter. 
Kaz felt free and weightless laughing in delight as you spun him around as you laughed in amusement, breaking rules of dancing but he didn’t care because he knew this moment with you was right and wanted this forever. He couldn’t let go of this perfect moment where the stars had aligned and everything felt just good to be true as Kaz spun you around and dipped you down, his hand supporting your back, stopping you from falling. You held onto his shoulder trusting him to hold you and never let you fall and break. Kaz pulled you up once as you held onto his gloved hand and his nose brushed against your forehead swaying to the soft and romantic song echoing through the Slat as both of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. 
“Y/N...” murmured Kaz as his eyes fluttered open, memorizing every inch of your face and committing you to memory afraid you would vanish if he let you go “Will you marry me and make me the happiest man on earth?” 
Your heart rate escalated through the roof and your eyes had widened in surprise as you stared at him in speechless amazement as he took out a ring that had a crow with a R engraved on it as he held your hand tightly in his “Marry me, Y/N and be my partner in crime for life.”
Kaz saw you chuckle and smile at him as you nodded “Yes. I’ll be your partner in crime for life, Kaz Brekker.”
“Kaz Rietvald.” confessed Kaz softly, his voice barely a whisper as he looked at you vulnerably “Kaz Rietvald is my real name. The name of the boy who came to Ketterdam with hopes of making it with his brother. The name of the boy who died in the harbor that day.”
You had looked at him with understanding and sincerity as he swallowed a lump of emotion and confessed “But when I’m with you... I feel like Kaz Rietvald once again. The boy who believed in magic and beauty of the world.”
“Kaz...” you had murmured as you looked at the ring that held great meaning for you now and then at Kaz with so much you wanted to say to him but he shook his head as he placed a soft and fleeting kiss on your hand. 
“Y/N...” he whispered as he slipped the ring onto your hand with his own trembling hands and then placed a sweet and tender kiss on your forehead “You are the reason.”
The reason that he was alive. The reason that he still felt alive. The reason that he looked forward to waking up every day. The reason that he paid attention to all the magical little things you did. The reason he felt worry whenever you were hurt and wounded. The reason that he dared to dream once again. 
From there on, Kaz had felt connected to you in a way that he hadn’t before. He had wanted to practice perfecting the image of pretending to be an engaged couple so he encouraged both of you to do little things that couples do. But it was easy to forget that Kaz was pretending when he hid sincere love notes inside your room, replaced the wilting flowers in your room with your favorite flowers and left little gifts for you. It was easy for Kaz to forget that you were not his to lose when he found little notes filled with jokes and small affirmations inside his files, his favorite books annotated with your thoughts and sentences highlighted that reminded you of him, flowers pressed to the pages.
It was easy to get lost in the act of being your husband when he exchanged knowing and lingering glances with you in secret, whenever he would feel the twisted dark feeling of jealousy when he saw any man look at you in the wrong way, when you bought coffee made exactly how he liked it in the mornings and when he was working late. It was easy to forget that you weren’t his lover when both of you worked late until night, your head resting on his lap as he ran his hand through your hair smiling down at you as you read your books, when he listened to you play the violin, when he shared meals with you and cuddled with you relishing the comfortable silence and teasing each other and confiding his secrets in you.
It was easy to forget that you were not his wife when he had seen you laughing in amusement, your eyes gleaming brightly and his lips had met yours passionately and tenderly as time stood still and his heart beat violently out of his ribcage when you had kissed him back with equal tenderness and desire. It was easy to forget that this was all just an act when he would indulge in the pleasure of nipping your earlobe and placing a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck and collarbone taking his time to taste you and feel your body tremble underneath his touch. 
It was easy to forget it all because you were easy to fall in love with deeply and madly until it was too late for him to back out. 
When the day came for the party, he had dressed up and you appeared in front of him making him speechless as his eyes widened because you were a breathtaking sight to behold. You were wearing an off the shoulder satin long emerald green dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You were wearing simple pearl earrings, your hair braided into loose waves and your cheeks pink and your lips ruby red as you smiled at Kaz. 
Kaz had placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you away and whispered into your ear “You look beautiful.”
You had blushed when you felt his lips brush against the nape of your neck as you squeezed his hand gently “You don’t look so bad yourself”
At the party, everyone was full of admiration for Kaz and you as a couple. Kaz and you socialized with the crowd of aristocrats, merchers and businessmen as you charmed them with your signature charisma that got enough information for Kaz. Though Kaz was not much of a social creature, he observed you morphing into the form that you needed to take in order to charm and lure your target into giving you what you wanted. 
As the time drew near for them to rob the vault, Kaz and you were talking with a few ladies and gentlemen who were very impressed with the both of you, the affectionate and loving couple and one woman had asked Kaz how he knew you were the one for him. 
Kaz had frozen at the question but his panic had disappeared as soon as it had come as he tightened his arm around your waist as he replied to his surprise with the truth of his heart “She makes me laugh. She’s smart, kind and funny and accepting of who I am. She’s truly the kind of woman who comes once in a lifetime. She’s beautiful and impossible. The way we got here was unexpected. But no matter how I think about it... we were meant to be. And the more time I spend with her, I know that I don’t want to lose her.”
Everyone cooed over the answer but you had frozen at Kaz’ answer as you looked at him in amazement and surprise but Kaz didn’t meet your eyes. The lady was insistent on knowing what you liked so much about Kaz that you knew you had to marry him. You wanted to hit that woman with the tray of champagne because she was putting you in a very awkward position at the moment. 
“He is... well, one night we were just gazing at the stars and talking when I looked over at him and it struck me that he is my closest friend. He’s awesome, intelligent, strong, brave and protects those who he cares about. How could I not want to be with him?” you had replied easily and sincerely with a tender and sweet smile shocking Kaz who had not expected such an answer that sounded terrifyingly real. 
Both of you had escaped the crowd and made it to the vault in time. You had distracted the guards while Kaz broke into the vault and took what he needed. Both of you were on the verge of an escape when both of you heard footsteps heading your way. Kaz had looked at you with desperation and desire as he had pushed you against the wall but before you could say anything, his lips were moving against yours passionately and fiercely, roughly and hungrily devouring you as his hands explored your body and sparks flew within him as you kissed him back with fierce passion and overwhelming emotion as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer toward you. 
Kaz couldn’t stop. He knew what he felt for you was a weakness. And if anything, you felt the same way about him too. And Kaz was secretly ecstatic that you felt the same way toward him. But Kaz had realized as he broke into the vault, he was a criminal. He was Kaz Brekker, the King of Ketterdam, the Bastard of the Barrel who had no weakness and who could not afford to love anyone. Kaz had realized the true harsh reality that he could never love you the way you deserve to be loved. He was not a man made for love. He was a monster created for chaos and cruelty. And you were weakening him, bringing his softer and vulnerable side that he had hidden from the world for so long. He couldn’t let it happen. As Kaz kissed you, he kissed you goodbye as he held you in his arms trying to keep you with him for a bit longer but he knew he had to end it before the world ended him. 
The guards who had been patrolling cleared their throats when they had seen you and Kaz and you had narrowly escaped their scrutiny and attention as a very handsy couple. When both of you had left the party, Kaz hardened his heart ignoring your pleasant conversation and then your inquiring questions. It didn’t take you long to notice this sudden change in Kaz who had grown cold and distant from you. 
“Kaz!” you had snapped as you shoved him getting his attention “What is wrong with you? What’s going on?”
“Y/N... I’m not your fucking husband, so stop nagging me!” snarled Kaz harshly, the softness in his eyes completely gone as he looked at you coldly “It’s over. We completed our mission. I got what I needed.”
Kaz started walking away because he didn’t want to see your fallen face when he heard your trembling voice speak up “Is that it?”
“Is that what? Did you think this was real? It was just a game... part of a mission.” replied Kaz coldly, his eyes flashing with harshness as he began to break the one thing he was falling in love with. 
“Don’t. Don’t you dare. I don’t believe you. I know you feel the same way I do, Kaz.” you had replied with a trembling and shaky voice that you tried to keep strong as you looked at him with a pained expression “You - please don’t do this. You can’t just do this to us and then run away from all these feelings because you are scared.”
“Scared? Y/N, I don’t love you. You are an investment to me.” replied Kaz cruelly and harshly shoving down the voice screaming that he was lying as he glared at you. “You are nothing to me!”
You remembered how safe you felt with Kaz and how he had always assured you that you belonged and had a home with him as you felt everything you thought you knew burn once again into ashes as your heart shattered into pieces at the words carelessly and brutally uttered by Kaz and you sucked a breath as you looked at him in disbelief and heartbreak “You don’t love me?”
Kaz answered with cold silence that rang loudly among both of you and he could hear your heart shattering into pieces and had to hold onto looking at how your once bright and happy face now fell into an expression of shocked disbelief and pained suffering as you tried to understand how your world could quickly fall apart. Kaz couldn’t bear to look at your pained expression any longer so he decided to walk away from you, to leave you alone and save himself from the pain. 
“I don’t believe you. Two hours ago, at that party, you wanted me. You were in love with me, Kaz. All these months, you made me believe we could share something special.” you called out, your voice shattered and hurt but there was a sliver of spite and anger in it that stopped him within his tracks as he closed his eyes and stiffened because he was losing you because this had to end “But we can never be that because you put yourself above everyone and within you is -”
 “Is what? A cold monstrous dark dead heart?” snapped Kaz clenching his jaw as he turned around to look at you with a dark and cold look in his eyes as he thought of how everything they had built up on a shaky ground was now falling apart “I thought you knew better by now. I don’t have a heart, Y/N.”
“Who knows? Because you never show anyone who you are!” you had spat out with tears in your eyes as you looked at Kaz with hurt and pain. “You aren’t letting me in, Kaz!”
“Nothing good comes from loving people! Everyone leaves in the end. I intend to live my life knowing that I have no weakness that my enemies will not exploit against me and knowing that I have no one who loves me mourning for me when I’m gone wishing every single moment that I would come back for them!” yelled Kaz fiercely, his eyes flashing with powerless reminiscence of a destroyed childhood and suffering that had made him monstrous as he looked at you knowing that he couldn’t afford to love you, not when he was weakened with you, not when he could never give you peace. 
“Well then, I love you! Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” you had screamed at him hysterically, tears rolling down your eyes as you felt nothing but piercing heartbreak and completely broken at how casually cruel and brutal he was being breaking you into pieces. 
Kaz’ breath hitched as he froze at your confession, his heart skipping a beat traitorously with hope and happiness but he collected himself reminding himself that both of you could never have a shot in the dark because he was too damaged to be loved by you as his lips curled into a cruel sneer “You disgust me! It’s too bad for you that I don’t love you. That you didn’t make the cut into my heart. Why would you do that to yourself?”
“You - you shouldn’t have let me in! You shouldn’t have made me feel safe with you! You shouldn’t have made me feel like I belong with you and the Dregs are my home!” you had snapped in unbearable pain that burned every inch of you as you gasped through a broken sob and looked at Kaz who looked so pretty like the devil through the tears as you slapped him “Because now it’s far too late!”
Kaz felt the sting of the slap but your words lashed across his heart more than the pain of the slap. He clenched his jaw as he felt his heart bleed in unbearable pain as he looked at you in hurt and wistfulness. He wanted to take back all his cruel words that broke you and crumpled you but he knew he couldn’t do that. 
And as Kaz looked at you, he wanted you more than anything in the world. More than all the kruge and the most beautiful paintings and precious jewels that he spent his life chasing to steal. Kaz was painfully aware of the aching desire he had to call you only his and to come home to your bright smile and tender heart every single day. Kaz wanted more than anything to hold your hand through life and death and to love you with all your scars and bruises and protect you from the rest of the world. Kaz had never felt this kind of powerful love and aching desire for anyone in his life, the kind that made him want to live each moment and love fearlessly. He wanted you so much that he was afraid that what he shared with you could bring him back to life as Kaz Rietvald or break him down.
Kaz loved you. Kaz had so much love inside him that he wanted to give you but he was terrified of how much you meant to him and what he would do to the world if you ever were hurt. As Kaz looked at the moonlight shining upon you, Kaz believed in Saints who had created the most perfect punishment fitting for him. For he was a monster, and it was only fitting for a monster never to hold and have what he loved the most in this world. 
Kaz felt you sense his reluctance and desire for you as you took his hand in yours and caressed his cheek gently as he was hypnotized by your tender eyes as he stared at the one that he loved and dreamed of as you softly and earnestly confessed “Kaz...I know you are scared. I’m terrified too. But I want you. I love you with all your flaws and scars, Kaz. Don’t give up on us. So let’s stop pretending and do this for real.”
Kaz’ breath hitched as he leaned toward you, drawn in like a moth to a flame. He could feel your breath fanning against his cheek as he inhaled in your intoxicating perfume and felt your hot skin against his lips that longed to kiss you. His eyes fluttered shut and his heart was racing inhumanely as his mind forgot to remind him that you were a bad idea. You were an addiction he couldn’t yet give up on and wanted more and more until he was completely satisfied. Kaz had an inkling he would always be wanting more of you as his hand held the nape of your neck wondering how something that was so rationally wrong could feel so perfectly right. 
He did not ask for this. He did not ask for you in his life. You were beautiful, intelligent, dynamic, wonderful and brighter than fireworks in the night sky. Kaz did not ask to be plagued by these feelings for you, to be driven to distraction every time you entered a room. 
“Say you want me like I want you maddeningly.” your voice whispered as your breath fanned his cheek, and Kaz couldn’t breath or think as he was lost in his storm of feelings for you as his lips lingered close enough toward yours eager to taste you.
But your words jolted him from this madness as he took a deep breath and stumbled back from you, realizing that he had been giving into his weaknesses and he breathed heavily trying to compose himself. What had he been thinking? What was he doing? This wasn’t fair and - this wasn’t right. Kaz ran his hand through his hair as he convinced himself that this wasn’t love, this was a distraction, a fleeting infatuation that would pass with time. You were not going to be his destruction. Kaz felt a bitter taste in his mouth as he convinced himself that he was not the one for you. You deserved someone better, someone who was not broken and damaged who would only bring you down. 
“I don’t love you. You were a pleasant distraction from my work.” replied Kaz firmly and coldly as his heart cried out at the lie but he knew it had to be done as he looked you in the eye “This isn’t a fairytale, Y/N. I am your employer and you are my Dreg. So stop being delusional and be what I need you to be and do what I need you to do.”
Then it had taken everything in Kaz to walk away leaving you alone in the dark, the masterpiece of what they had torn apart as you felt alone, tears of heartbreak and pain running down your cheeks. 
It hadn’t taken long for everyone else to notice what had gone wrong between you and Kaz. Both of you had been inseparable, never one without another and now both of you were distant and apart. Kaz kept his distance coldly and cruelly from you refusing to listen and talk to you as you tried to fight for them again and again and the brightness in your eyes began to fade away slowly as you wondered where you had gone wrong as you sat in the dark choking on your sobs dying inside of pain and heartbreak. 
Kaz didn’t know that you were trying to hold onto him as you stayed in your room. After a while, you stopped coming to see Kaz but your presence lingered with him as he heard you play the violin, vulnerable, soft and sad, melancholy heart tugging and heart breaking melodies that would float through the Slat down to the streets. The melodies you played were piercingly agonizing, beautifully emotional and reminded Kaz every single moment of the memories he had shared with you, the unconditional joy he had felt in your presence and now the sorrow that ached within him at your absence as tears sprung into his eyes. He wasn’t the only one affected by your emotional performances. One of the most toughest Dregs who was violent had burst into tears when he had heard you performing a heartbreaking farewell song. 
One day, Kaz couldn’t bear it any longer as he quietly walked toward your room as his eyes fell on you facing the window playing an achingly sad and sweet melody that touched Kaz’ cold heart feeling that your melody was a breathtaking story that never got a happy ending. 
“Is it a sad song?” asked Kaz softly as he lingered at the door, his eyes full of sadness and curiosity when you had finished playing and he noted that you didn’t look surprised at his presence. 
“Nothing is sad until its over. Then everything is.” you replied quietly and contemplatively, your eyes full of grief and heartbreak as you looked at him with a sliver of hope in your heart. 
Kaz had felt a lump of emotion swell up in his throat as he tried to speak but he was too lost in your eyes that mirrored how he felt and you took a step toward him “Kaz... I just wanted to say -”
“Y/N - I just came to say it’s enough.” said Kaz clearing his throat and taking hold of himself as he took on the coldness and harshness against you who looked slightly confused “Enough of your melancholy whining and playing the violin! It’s a headache and distracting all of us from doing important things.”
Kaz had watched you freeze in shock at his order, your eyes burning bright in disbelief and hurt and Kaz knew it that you loved playing on your violin. Your violin was the most precious possession in the world to you and you would never give up your violin to save yourself. You loved playing music on your violin more than anything in the world and to hear Kaz order you to stop playing the violin was an equivalent to ordering you drown yourself and kill yourself. 
The despair and grief in your eyes flashed into cold anger as you gripped your violin protectively “You once looked me in the eyes and told me that you would be by my side until the end. But it’s wonderful to see that you are okay being a liar who wants everything to revolve around you. I guess my pain - the pain you caused is such an imposition to you.”
“Y/N... I’m sick of you! So please stop playing the violin! If you so much as play a note on that stupid thing, I will burn it!” exclaimed Kaz who had felt anger that derived out of guilt and self - loathing as he glared at you with lightning in his eyes. 
Kaz saw you were paralyzed with shock at his cruel words that he suddenly regretted as he looked at your grief-stricken expression but he didn’t want to stay and dwell on it as he turned away but as he took a few steps away from you, he heard you say in disappointment and sadness “I thought you might be different than the rest of the monsters in this world. But I guess you are all the same.”
Kaz had frozen but before his anger could get the best of him, he had marched to his office. You had looked down at the streets of Ketterdam that were haunted by your father who had come before you, your brother who you had lost to the cruelty of this city and the one person you had always felt like you belonged in this godforsaken city had abandoned you making you feel unspeakably lonely and terrified, unbearably heartbroken and hurt. You had been the phoenix in this city rising from the ashes every single time they burned you but you were getting tired of rising and fighting like it was nothing. Kaz had dealt the final blow. 
When Nina had offered to take you with her, you had not hesitated. Kaz had been surprised that you had accepted and something in him wanted to stop you from leaving to Ravka. But he stayed silent as you packed your bags and left for Ravka with Nina without saying goodbye to him as he had the deadly sinking feeling that he was losing you. 
Kaz had expected that he wouldn’t miss you at all. After all, it was good that you were far away from him as possible and it would give him time to move from this disaster. But the air was thick with loss and indecision as he realized the truth of the saying that you never knew what you had until it was gone. Kaz had thought your absence would only satisfy him and give him the satisfaction that he was right all along.
But Kaz had been completely, utterly, tragically wrong. 
Because after you had left, everything seemed empty and wrong to Kaz. Your absence could be felt in every single vein in Kaz’ body and your absence taunted him as he felt the little things about your presence in his life. His office that had once been full of light and warmth, a place of shelter from the cruelty of the world where he shared sacred moments of sincere smiles and easy conversations with you had now become cold and dark, empty of your vivid intelligence and easy laughter that lit it up as Kaz stared frozen at the blueprints, maps, documents, contracts that didn’t make any sense to him any longer. Your scent of sharp jasmine and comforting pages of books lingered on his pillow that he buried his head into every night trying to hold onto you as he missed you terribly. Kaz missed your incredible intelligence and imagination that saw the world through different eyes and observed things that everyone else missed. Kaz felt your absence ache terribly at the lack of beautiful, magical and lovely music that you would play on your violin during the most random and inconvenient times of the day when you needed to think. Kaz missed the little things from the little soft and knowing smile you had reserved only for him, the midnight conversations that made them smile and cry, the afternoons you would come back from your favorite café to share coffee and pastries with him, your furrowed brow when you were focused on sketching, and the playfulness and childlike innocence you exuded brightening his life. 
Kaz couldn’t bear your absence that echoed in this godforsaken city of Ketterdam. Ketterdam, the city that used to be a reminder of Jordie was now driving Kaz mad by screaming your name everywhere Kaz went. Kaz couldn’t walk past and live in this city of blood that was now haunted by you as he was reminded of you in each place from your room that used to be scattered with papers, books and boards that were marked with ongoing investigations but now was empty of activity, the marketplace you frequented bargaining with the vendors driving them to despair, the bookshops in the University District you lingered in for long hours, the Crow Club where you laughed and drank with the Crows sharing intimate and secret glances with Kaz, the library where you loved to read losing track of time, the waffle house where you and Nina loved to eat waffles, the hot chocolate stand where you and Kaz would always buy and drink hot chocolate after a heist or a job or whenever they passed it by, the crowded canals where you liked to sit and sketch landscapes of Ketterdam, the harbor shore where you liked to run into the sea and jump around in the waves childishly and freely and the bar your friend Steve owned where Kaz had first met you. 
Your seat at the table was empty and no one in the Dregs dared to sit on it. Everyone in the Dregs missed you too. Jesper didn’t frequent the Slat often and when he did was restless and anxious, Wylan was quiet and thoughtful as he worked on his bombs but when something went wrong, he would be frustrated and once snapped in anger at one of the innocent newly recruited Dregs because no one else except you understood him and his love for inventions. Inej prayed daily to her Saints to keep you and Nina safe, posted letters all the Crows and the Dregs wrote to you, sent you little trinkets, and tidied your room replacing the wilted flowers and arranging it. Matthias would try to raise everyone’s spirits as he reminisced of good times with you making everyone smile and laugh and encouraging the Dregs to keep going but inside he was worried for your wellbeing since you were the first friend he had from Hellgate until now. 
Kaz also was subjected to high sass levels of incredibly frustrated and angry intelligent, skilled and protective teenagers and your friends in the Dregs who were first seen by you and touched by your kindness to them in the streets and were forever in your debt for giving them a home and a purpose. This was the worst punishment yet for hurting you and he wished that he had never done anything to you because the revenge from the kids and friends in the Dregs who loved you was worse than any humiliation he had been subjected to. 
He had once come down in the morning to get coffee but the last of the coffee was taken by the dark haired, sassy kid called Hari who had marched into the kitchen completely covered in blood as he held an axe and glared at Kaz as he marched away with the jug of coffee, never letting Kaz get coffee at any given moment. The red head named Betty who was completely mad at Kaz had arranged to deliver the most distasteful cakes that tasted horrible to him every single day with the most hurtful and imaginative sayings on the top ranging from ‘IT’S GARBAGE DAY. CAN’T BELIEVE THEY HAVE A WHOLE DAY DEDICATED TO YOU’, ‘SORRY YOU ARE SUCH A HATEFUL BITCH’, ‘YOUR WHOLE LIFE IS A JOKE’, and a cake with a middle finger on it that said ‘YOUR LOSS’. There were three kids named Tony, Sabrina and James who helped you with your investigations and whenever Kaz ordered them to do anything, they would defy him sassily by shrugging him off and not taking him seriously. There were two twins named Rob and Hal who pranked Kaz every single day after he had broken your heart, nearly driving Kaz crazy but Kaz could never trace the prank back to them but Kaz knew it was them when they smirked in amusement whenever they saw Kaz covered with glitter and pink confetti or Kaz’ hair completely blonde and purple. The curly haired boy named Joe who you had given all your waffles to on that terribly hungry day would replace Kaz’ gloves with brightly colored, crazily patterned leather gloves, hide Kaz’ documents in places where Kaz couldn’t find them, replace Kaz’ coats with bright and colorful coats, redecorate Kaz’ cane into silly shapes and replaced Kaz’ perfume with a spray that made Kaz smell like rotten eggs for days. A medik you trusted and had taken into the Dregs named Hungyun would sharpen his blades and recite facts about surgeries and how to dispose of a body whenever Kaz passed him by so Kaz avoided him all together.
Matthias who had noticed Jesper’s restlessness, Wylan’s frustration, Inej’s worry and the Dregs’ sass had gathered them for a project to cheer you up by making an album about how much you meant to them and soon all of them enthusiastically joined in the creative venture. The only thing that calmed all the Dregs and Crows from starting a revolution was your letters to them that kept them happy that you were doing fine. 
Kaz received your letters and he read them the moment he received them. You wrote so beautifully about Ravka and how it was so different to Ketterdam. Every letter was a piece of you that he clung onto as he read it over and over again, tracing your elegant yet messy handwriting full of enthusiasm and sadness as you described everything in vivid detail, put down your own thoughts and confessed how much you missed him and couldn’t forget him no matter how hard you tried. Kaz tried to write back but every time he tried to write, words failed him as emotions overwhelmed him because he didn’t know where to start and he knew if he wrote back and really confronted how he felt, he would be giving into weakness. He couldn’t afford to be weak. So he wrote the letters he wanted to write to you secretly and locked it away and read your letters over and over again never sending you a response hoping that in time you would forget him. 
But the thought of losing you terrified him. Because that was kind of heartbreak time could never mend. Kaz could never feel this kind of love for anyone again and though he was adamant in holding onto strength of not giving into his weakness, he never wanted you to leave him for another because it petrified and terrified him. He could never walk the streets of Ketterdam again if you were not by his side. 
Kaz knew he had to do something when he dreamed of you and started seeing visions of you in broad daylight. The first time Kaz had seen you in broad daylight was when he was supervising the Crow Club and he had seen you laughing in the Crow Club and you winked at him with that charming and knowing manner that always made him blush and his eyes widened in wonder and disbelief because he couldn’t believe you had come back so soon but then you vanished. Kaz had blinked in confusion realizing that he had hallucinated you but that was just the beginning. When Kaz had been walking down the street, he had heard you call out his name cheerfully and his heart had soared in traitorous hope as he swerved to look in the direction where he heard your voice and saw that it was you with your sweet disposition and bright eyes running toward him with wind in your hair and his knees had almost given out but then the vision of you disappeared as a girl ran past him to hug her lover behind him. Kaz tried to shut you out but you were impossible. You were in his head and you didn’t leave. He saw you sitting in his office looking at him in disappointment and anger, tears of sadness rolling down your cheeks as you begged him to love you. 
Kaz couldn’t bear it any longer. Kaz didn’t care how long Nina had said she would be gone with you. Kaz needed you with him. Kaz wanted you with him because he couldn’t live without you since this was hell. Kaz pulled out a new paper and wrote a letter to you ordering you to come back home to him because he couldn’t live like this any longer. He hoped that once you got the letter, you would not hesitate to come back. 
After all Ketterdam was your home. Ketterdam was where you belonged. Ketterdam was where he was. There was nothing special tying you to Ravka. 
As Kaz sent the letter, he looked at the sun setting down on the horizon and muttered with all the sincerity and piercing agony in his heart as he remembered the rare masterpiece he shared with you, remembered you all too well “I miss you, Y/N. Come back to me.”
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x-poblo-x · 15 days
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Bpril Bdness Part 1L
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itsonlydana · 1 month
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"passenger princess" | final chapter
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the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana
❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader
❱ wordcount: 7,5k
❱ summary: the rules of a man keeping love from himself and the girl who broke them
❱ warnings: mature language
❱ an: so, here it is. The last chapter. This was originally 24k on ao3 and now we hit 42k and around 148 pages on google docs. This has been unbelievable and i'm so glad to have added this and that and posted on here <3 thank you all for every comment & kudos & repost and just all of it🩷
general m.list + series m.list
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3
CHAPTER NINE: WHISPERS
The drive was a lot quieter than usual.
The radio still played classical music, the soft piano music filtering through the stereo and cradling you in welcome melodies. Instead of the usual chatter, you opted for silence, preferring to listen to Thranduil as he talked to you about his day in the softest of voices.
Once or twice you huffed out a wet laugh through your nose at something he sayed, a quip against one of his coworker or a joke he thought off, nearly soundless but Thranduils lips quirked up nevertheless.
He proved to be correct about the weather forecast too; shortly after the car departed from the city streets and ventured onto the highway, the skies opened up.
Initially, the rain descended in a gentle pitter-patter, small droplets defiantly challenging the windshield wipers. The lights of passing cars transformed into watercolor circles, providing a soothing spectacle that eased your eyes and calmed your nerves.
And not once left Thranduils hand your leg for longer than necessary.
You were watching him, looking at his side profile as he drove you through the night and quietly chatting. Giving you time. Not pushing you into telling him why he had to pick you up crying and had to hold you while you were crashing down a cliff.
He'd done it without a second thought, picking you up this godless hour like he hadn't been in bed already and abandoned sleep for you.
Thranduil, who waited for you to be ready to tell him what happened, throwing his evening plans for you overboard, once again coming to get you and comforting you with his touch; the spark inside your heart soared.
If this wasn't love, what else could it be?
By the time you arrived at the Oropherion home, the soft drizzle of the rain had turned into merciless streams of water crashing down to earth, obscuring the view out the front window as soon as the ignition died and the wipers came to a stop.
The seatbelts clicked loudly.
"I forgot an umbrella."
You turned your head from the shape of the house you could make out through the water streaming down the window to Thranduil. He had leaned forward to be able to look out the window as well, head tilted sideways and his mouth curled downwards at the sides.
"I guess we will have to run," you said softly.
"No. I will run, grab one of the umbrellas in the entry hall and pick you back up."
You let out a snort and your hand all but flew to your mouth.
"What?" Thranduil asked but you shook your head. "Why did you laugh?"
Your hand fell back into your lap, down to Thranduils one. "You don't have to run and then come back only for me to be dry. That's really unnecessary," you told him, biting your lower lip as you felt a smile blooming inside you "Though it is appreciated that you would do that for me."
He mirrored your smile and it's so heartful and warming, the way his lips changed from the frown and lifted up and you could see the smile reaching his eyes, his eyebrows relaxing as well as his jaw.
"Then let us run quickly and hope we are fast enough," Thranduil agreed, leaning towards you and opening your door, then his. He looked at you. "On go?"
You nodded.
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
"Go!"
Both of you jumped out of your seats, slamming the doors shut and then you were off. The rain poured down relentlessly as you and Thranduil dashed through the downpour towards the entrance of the house.
Within seconds you were completely soaked, wet from head to toe and your clothes clung to your body when you stumbled up the steps to the door, Thranduil close behind you.
So close, that he nearly crashed into you, as he took two steps at a time and stopped just a few centimeters from where you leaned heavily against the entrance, trying to wring out some of the water out of the sweater.
His hands landed next to your head with a thump as he stopped himself, the momentum of his halting resulting in his hair following his body, smacking against your face like a lasso. Not with much force but it still had you spluttering to get a few of the strands out of your mouth.
Thranduils face contorted in embarrassment as he realized what had you smacking your lips and huffing out a cough and he threw his long hair back over his shoulder. "Don't grin at me," he groaned while pulling his keys out of his pocket "I will die of humiliation if you ever speak of this in front of Legolas."
"What of?" you teased, "That you nearly ran me over with your tall body or that I got a taste of hair because you can't control that tall body?"
"Neither!" he growled, then yanked his keys out and jammed them into the keyhole. Before turning it, he stopped, locking down at you, flattened between him and the door.
His perfect thick eyebrows raised almost in a hesitant question in themselves. "You won't, right?"
Knowing he had been an – involuntarily – witness to many of the evenings Legolas and you had spent in their living room wearing your cutest pajamas and face masks that had scared him more than once, while you painted each others nails and gossiped like you would get paid for it by the minute, you understood the underlying fear in Thranduils voice.
Chuckling, you raised a hand, and curled your fingers around one of the few strands that clung to his drenched sweater and glistening jaw.
"I won't," you said but the eyebrows rose higher at the light amusement in your voice so you reassured him while brushing the strand behind his ear, following the curve of it to the pointed tip and felt him shuddering under the light touch.
"I promise! Pinky swear that I won't tell Legolas anything that involves your hair or your body," As soon as those words were out of your mouth, you grimaced.
Thranduil did too.
That didn't came out like you had wanted it to.
Even the simple thought of telling Legolas anything that involves anything private with Thranduil... no– you're sure that this would never happen.
You had tried talking to Legolas once more about the matter, checked in with him to ask what he thought of the progress you and Thranduil had been making after the cabrio conversation, and he had simply given you his permission if he wouldn't have to call you "mother"; a compromise you had rushed to agree to.
"Ew," you murmured, teeth being close to chattering as the wind slapped a fresh wave of rain your way "Never mind."
Thranduil nodded quickly. The one hand pressed against the door slid down and to your waist, leading you into the entrance hall after the key had turned and the both of you were stumbling into the safety of the house.
Inside, water dripping on the dark hardwood floors, Thranduils other hand found your waist as well, as he led you through the dark house from behind you.
You didn't bother with turning on the lights, you trusted Thranduil with finding his way through a house he had lived in for his whole life.
It almost ended in stumbling, especially given the trail you left behind, practically begging for a "caution: wet floors" sign. Thranduil was so near that you could feel not only his hands but occasionally his chest too, particularly when rounding corners or ascending stairs.
Somehow though you found yourselves in front of a closed door on the third floor with no injuries except for that ache in your heart that while being number than earlier, seemed to be a constant companion for the time being.
You knew in an instant what was behind said closed door.
It's quite an accomplishment to know what was behind it, looming, if you would have to be specific.
There were a lot of doors in the Oropherion house: the kitchen had three, there was a pantry door, Legolas bedroom door, the guest room doors, the library doors, the door to the cellar, and if you were in the right state – beer pissed if there was no other option but preferably wine tipsy – there was no telling where you would end up.
Well, the chances of you crashing into a storage room when you were aiming for the guest room you always stayed in were pretty high, high enough Legolas – or Thranduil nowadays – would accompany you up and save to the door, making sure you slept in the bed rather than a makeshift situation out of aprons and rags.
How easy it would be to lie and say that only happened once…
But no matter the level of alcohol in your blood and head, you never dared opening this door.
This was the only door you never touched, never even stopped in front of.
Sure, in your mind you were a regular visitor but that was between you and the fantasies coming alive ever since Thranduil had picked you up from that bar the one fateful night!
In reality, notably, a reality where you were much closer to those fantasies now than ever, there had never been an opportunity to come up to the third floor.
There were only three rooms up here.
The study behind the last door at the end of the hallway was where Thranduil would sometimes disappear into. You knew he hoarded some very special editions of books that you two had discussed.
The first door was to the old nursery, now no longer used but for an empty threat Thranduil held in his hands if Legolas dared to ignore the very few rules they had. If the threat was that Legolas would move back into the nursery or if Thranduil would bring out whatever was in there was not the matter, it was enough to bring Legolas back on track if needed.
And of course…
The master bedroom.
Thranduil's bedroom.
The one Thranduil was currently opening before you, his hands on your waist and his breath hot on your neck as he steered you into the room.
Unlike you, he didn't seem to give the situation a second thought, much less a third, fourth and from the way he kissed you on the back of the head and then walked to a door on the right side of the room, he wasn't on the verge of a nervous breakdown either.
You, on the other hand, could only stare at the room unfolding, exchanging the images of it you had drawn in your mind.
The bedroom you had imagined had been clinically tidy, in no more colors than grey, white and maybe he would be crazy and had thrown some black in there, and he would've had few pictures and books but just the barest minimum to have it look like this wasn't a furniture exhibition and not too much that the room could mess with the image of the cold, serious, stern and intimidating lawyer he put out for strangers.
For once, the walls were painted a beautiful dark green with gorgeous panels that graced them from the dark wood floors to the high ceilings, similar to the bay windows that reached the ceilings as well but had a slim bench.
The windows were framed by long rusty colored curtains. These windows would surely flood the room in the sunlight whenever the weather wasn't dark and gloomy like today.
Right now you couldn't even look out, but you knew from the guest room one floor under you, that this room had the perfect view of the garden that stretched behind the house and Thranduil would be able to look out right into the cherry tree.
There was a giant king-sized bed pushed against one of the walls without windows, the sheets midnight blue and most certainly silk, the pillows propped against the wooden headboard, and there were enough of them to make it look like the perfect place to disappear into sweet dreams.
Two nightstands were on either side of the giant bed, both had a simple lamp and some burned-down candles on them, as well as a book and a picture frame that was facing the bed.
On the left side of the bedroom door was another door left ajar, allowing you a small peak into the en suite bathroom, because of course Thranduil had his own private bathroom and you nearly snickered thinking of the many hair and skin products that he would hide in there.
On the window-side of the bed were two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, filled to overflow with books, many of which you recognized even from afar. There was also a comfortable-looking old wing chair in front of the shelves, a wine-red blanket thrown over its arms.
Your eyes wandered to the right side of the room, to the door leading to the walk-in closet where Thranduil was currently pulling out some clothes.
Next to the door was a small desk with another bookshelf. Papers lay scattered on the surface in front of a dark computer, around them opened books and even more picture frames.
The room shocked you in the best way possible.
Everything looked so… well lived in.
From the pictures on the wall, shelves and every surface that they fit onto in an aesthetical, home-y way, to the phone cable next to the bed (you would tease Thranduil about that later; after all was he the one always bickering with Legolas that he shouldn't sleep with his phone in his bed), and the used cup with a coffee stain on the side next to one of the many books next to the wing chair.
He had some potted plants as well, tall ones in between the windows and smaller ones on shelves and the benches, and they didn't even look close to dying.
Not like the little cactus in your room that you would forget to water and if you remembered you would throw in whatever you were drinking that moment into the pot.
You could even spot a pair of socks next to the bed. Next to the unmade bed.
Thranduil had said on the phone that you'd called him when he was about to retire to sleep but seeing the rustled sheets and a thrown of pajamas right before you made it all so real.
This was Thranduil's bedroom, littered with pieces of his personality and you were standing right in the middle of it…
… dripping on what was probably a very expensive carpet.
With that realization you took a step back, whipping back and forth on your heels, eyes landing on Thranduil.
"Okay, I took the liberty to pull out some clothes for you," Thranduil said and stepped out of the closet, a gray sweater and what looked like black shorts in his hands. "You can change in the bathroom over there, through the door next to the bed." The clothes landed in your hands, you carefully held them away so as to not get them too wet and Thranduils smiled at you. "If you need anything, yell, alright? There should be some towels in there as well and I have a spare toothbrush under the sink."
You just nodded.
Entering the bathroom was another shock, considering it was as big, no definitely bigger, than the whole of your room and you could have sworn even the curved bathtub was bigger than your bed.
Right then, it looked more comfortable as well.
You switched on the lights and instead of one big light, many smaller ones lit up and bathed the room in a somehow quiet light. How light could be described as 'quiet' was beyond explanation for your tired mind, it fitted nonetheless.
Peeling the cold and wet sweater off pulled more on your heartstrings than on the synapses in your brain that would normally scream because of the fabric clinging to your skin most unpleasantly.
You hoped you could wear it again another time. You carefully draped it over the edge of the tub and the dress you had put on followed regardless of how dry it had been thanks to the sweater.
You couldn't get it off fast enough.
Certainly, you were aware that you had it on; you could feel the fabric stretching over your curves.
However, the encounter with it in the large round mirror above the sink was a startling surprise. Before you knew it, your mind was replaying the events of the evening right before your eyes.
Quickly and trying to avoid the breakdown winding its way up your body you scrambled for a towel, drying off the rest of the rainwater on your damp arms and legs, as well as wringing out your hair in an attempt to at least stop the dripping.
Then you all but jumped into the warm clothes Thranduil had given to you. The sweater that now pooled over your hands was long enough to reach your thighs and as inviting as the thought of ditching the pair of shorts was, you felt the slightly cool air nipping your legs.
But not even the soft fabric and nice smell, pines, and laundry detergent, could hold off the impending tears that came up when you brushed your teeth with the promised toothbrush and stared at yourself in the mirror.
You were able to wash off the makeup with some wipes and now there was a red, puffy face that pulled the same grimaces as you, the evidence of your crying as clear as the hurt in your eyes.
After spitting out your toothpaste and washing your face once again, you turned off the lights and stepped back into the bedroom.
It was dark there as well, the room illuminated by the lamps on the bedside tables, their glow casting golden hues on the face of the man standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
Your lips were automatically drawn upwards at the sight of Thranduil, especially now that he wore the dark blue pajamas. His hair was thrown together in a bun at the top of his head, some strands framing his face perfectly and lining up with his jaw.
His tongue swiped over his lips, cerulean eyes watching you intensely and you didn't miss when they raked over your body and how they lightened up.
"Did you find everything?"
"Yes, thank you."
More silence.
Thranduil took a step towards you, stretching his hand out in a wavy indication to the bed. "Uhm–" he cleared his throat "I don't want to impose but do you want to stay here tonight?"
Your jaw fell open at the invitation which prompted Thranduil's eyes to widen in shock. "You don't have to if you don't want it! I can bring you back downstairs to your room if you prefer some solitude after today–"
"No–"
"I wouldn't be mad, love."
"Thranduil," the second his name fell from your lips he shut his mouth.
"I will never get enough of that," he said quietly and you tilted your head in question. "Before you, my name was such a strange sound on the lips of others. Now.. now I fear that nothing I'll ever hear will sound as beautiful as my name when you say it."
Your face flushed hot at this admission, spoken so honestly that you knew it to be true.
"Well, uhm, Thran– Thranduil, I wouldn't mind… sleeping here, I mean," you rambled on, the thoughts in your brain scrambled like eggs or flown away like the leafs on the cherry tree outside; his words were a strong wind shaking your composure to the point you adverted your eyes in the fear of proclaiming all your love all of the sudden.
What came out your mouth instead, was a long yawn.
The exhaustion of the last two hours (how it had been only two and not more since the party) was rushing to your head now that you were finally in warm and dry clothes and additionally in Thranduils company, your body aching for rest.
Thranduil ultimately smiled, nodding once before he placed his hand on your lower back and turned you around. "Then it would be my absolute pleasure to have you here with me this night and every night you wish. Now, hush hush to bed or else you'll fall asleep right there"
Your cheeks turned another shade of pink and you wished the guest room a swift goodbye, not once feeling bad about abandoning the room next to your best friend if it meant you could sleep next to Thranduil.
That one morning you had awoken on the sofa was the sweetest of memories, especially the feeling that his tall body hugging you close to his chest had awoken.
He was someone that could protect you.
The moment you climbed onto the bed – and yes, climbed; the bed was high enough to have you move with one knee first and then try to gracefully jump the last part – the fabric of the sheets drew you in with their soft and light feel to it.
Thranduil joined you, slipping under the sheet on the right side of the bed and arranging the pillows in his back to his liking.
You observed the action, the routine in the movement of his hands as they pulled out the hair tie that had held his hair back and now removed, let the silver strands fall down his back and sides.
He grabbed his phone after he discarded the tie on the nightstand, the glow of the screen in the dark reflecting in his eyes as he switched to his alarm app and turned off the one single alarm that he had.
You snorted at that, pulling his attention to you.
"Sorry," you quickly said at his raised eyebrow "I didn't want to snoop. It's just funny that you have a single alarm while my phone in the morning rings nearly at a one-minute tact."
Thranduil chuckled and looked at his phone before turning to you. "Oh, I wondered why the hell you were getting calls in the morning when you sleep here. Not even my line in the office is that busy. And you still oversleep with that awful noise blasting your eardrums," he teased and you rolled your eyes at him.
"I do not oversleep!"
"You don't? My love, I can hear those appalling ring tones for what? An hour, two?"
"That's not oversleeping," you retaliated and lifted your nose into the air "I simply set my alarms an hour before I have to wake up so I can get that sweet sensation of being able to fall back asleep again and again," you sighed, reminiscent of the moments your head was being pulled back into the world of dreams
"and again..."
"You can't possibly fall asleep in those five– no two minutes that your phone is quiet before the next alarm screams out," Thranduil looked at you with disbelief.
"Of course I can, I'm a student. I will even accept the five minutes I have when Professor Baggins is making himself a cup of tea"
The sole look on your face told Thranduil you were serious and he shook his head, laughing to himself.
"It's been a long day," Thranduil said and you stifled a yawn. He chuckled, leaning over the small gap between you and breathed a short kiss on your forehead. "Let's sleep, my love," he murmured against your skin there and kissed you again. "You need the rest and I do too. We shall not wake with any alarm, you will sleep as long as you want."
"Uhm, then I would never leave this bed. Ever," you said and grinned, leaning against his lips in an attempt to get another kiss out of it.
He complied, laughing while doing it and the hot air of his breath caressed your face nearly as intimate as his hands on the side of your face.
You smiled but feigned a serious voice, one that could sound threatening if your smile wouldn't have shone through it: "I mean it! I will never ever get out of this bed, you will have to deal with me being here until I've worn out these gorgeous sheets."
Huffing, Thranduil sat back, a grin wide on his face. "Oh, how terrible that sounds! Most unfortunate... for your friends and university. I shall call them right in the morning and tell them Sleeping Beauty has fallen into her slumber and there was nothing I could do against it."
The sheets rustled as you giggled and wiggled down until your head rested comfortably on one of the pillows.
He looked down at you, the grin fell to a dramatic frown as when he reached over and stroked your cheek. "This fate must be so hard on you; staying here with me for all eternity."
You copied the dramatic sigh of his and tilted your head to face the ceiling. "The journey will be hard, but these pillows are soft enough to even it out. Besides, I'm sure there are worse possible outcomes for my future than sleeping here and waiting for a pretty prince to kiss me awake"
Grinning a Cheshire cat-like grin you snuggled deeper into the covers, pulling the sheet up your chest and inhaled the very masculine smell of them.. Thranduils smell.
"Maybe you can send Legolas up here to try"
A low blow, yes, you knew.
But Thranduil simply raised his eyebrow, he was so good at that, you envied him and wondered if he was born with simple talent or if he had worked for the perfection of the timing and the arch, and pushed the hair that had fallen on his chest back behind him.
"I would lock the door before allowing that," his lips curled in amusement.
Looking him up and down you pinched your lips. "Now that you say that, you do have an astonishing resemblance to Mother Gothel," For a moment you pondered "We would only need to dye your hair black, a shame, but– oh look! You even have the same scowl!"
Thranduil did indeed stare you down, cerulean eyes glaring until you saw the tiniest twinkle of mischief not just in his gaze but in the corner of his mouth as well. "I fail to see a resemblance between you and Rapunzel but if you exchange the Adam Sandler look you are wearing right now with a white nightgown I could see you as a slightly more obstinate Berta Manson," He reached over again and poked a long and slender finger into the pout of your cheeks. "And look at that, even the third floor fits!"
You gasped out loud at that, feigning hurt across your features whilst crossing your arms in front of your chest.
But before you could think of anything to retort, a yawn took over for you, breaking the teasing.
Thranduil promptly dropped his act as well, not fighting the besotted smile as he gave you another kiss, this time to the cheek. His hair tickled you when he leaned down and you scrunched your nose.
"As much as I would love to hear what comparisons you could up with," he started and his voice was low, deep, rolling through your entire body in pleasant waves "I believe sleep is in order. Good night my darling, sleep well." He leaned to the side and grabbed the cable hanging there, connected it with his phone, and set it down on the table, turning off the lights while he was at it.
Without making much noise Thranduil settled into the pillows again and his legs brushed yours under the covers.
"Excuse me", he said softly and drew back.
The rain was still heavy against the windows, supported by a low rumbling in the distance and the howling of the wind that shook the trees outside the house.
Nature was loud with everything, from the brewing thunder to the raindrops collecting in a puddle on the window sill in a constant drip drip drip...
The silence inside the room was unbearable loud for you. The rustling of the sheets when you moved even the tiniest bit was as loud in your ears as the roaring ocean waves crashing against the shore, hell, you even thought your swallowing and blinking would make enough noise for Thranduil to hear.
Just as all the lights had gone out, something had settled over the room.
You couldn't put your finger on it, didn't know what it was exactly that was now present but you could feel it in your stomach.
It wasn't awkwardness.
Not like you had sometimes felt it after one night stands when the guy would stay in your room and it would suffocate you to have this person next to you that you really didn't want to have there.
Not like you had felt it the first time you had to crash at Aragorns and he you had fought about where you would sleep and he'd made the argument that you both were adults and could sleep in one bed after twenty minutes of back and forth.
You had kept your distance to him that night and it was like every bit of friendly affection was put on hold for the six hours you had tried not to move and accidentally brush against him.
It wasn't like that now.
It wasn't discomfort either.
It was more pressing, eating away at you and crawling it's way up your body, from your stomach where it fluttered similar to nervousness, biting down in your chest and had you taking a deep breath until you felt it in your throat.
You tried to swallow only to found your mouth full of words that pressed against your teeth and lips, urging to be said out loud into the silence of the room.
You slightly opened your mouth, wettened your lips as the words formed each other to a sentence.
A statement.
A question.
"You never asked what happened tonight."
A whisper.
And then, the rustling of sheets.
Thranduils voice was hesitant at first: "It isn't my place to question it. I figured you would either tell me when you are ready or not at all and I would be fine with it either way." While he talked you could hear and feel him moving, sitting up against the pillows again. "I was worried, god yes and so much, but as soon as I knew that you were safe– safe with me, then I gave you the choice," he talked quietly, concern etched into the words when he seemed to remember the phone call.
The answer wasn't enough to satisfy the restlessness that harbored your body, it seemed to fuel it further and you had to sit up as well to try to calm a few of the nerves. "Yes, but wouldn't you want to know?" you asked in the direction you could make his face out. "I had you driving to the city without telling you anything and you did it. Without question."
"Are you mad at me for doing so?" he asked, the frown audible in his voice.
Your frustration grew and you felt the childish need to kick your legs or cry again. "No!" you said, far too loud and immediately lowered your voice, "No, I'm not mad. I just can't wrap my head around it. If I had written any of my friends they wouldn't have let go until I told them anything and then try to strangle whoever is responsible."
In a second the lights were switched on again and you saw a horrified look on Thranduils face. "Whoever is responsible?" he repeated, the words strangely choked "I– sweetheart I believe you if you tell me you are alright but if there is anyone out there that hurt you I promise you I can help."
You lowered your head as he talked but soft and cold fingers on your chin forced you to look at him again.
His eyes wandered over your face with the same precision of taking everything in and he fixed you with a worried expression. "I care for you, very much so and I know this day was exhausting for you so if you want us to go back to sleep I'll rest but you worry me. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Could you hold me? Please?"
It took a lot for the words to come out, the question not an easy one but you found yourself being tugged over to Thranduil, the man pulling you without as much as a question or hesitation, and struggle.
You landed on his lap in seconds, your knees digging into the pillows at either side of him and you fell into his chest with a deep sigh.
Almost instantly his arms wrapped around you, pulling the sheet up to cover your back and him with it and you rested your head on his shoulder, your arms holding onto him with the same eagerness to hold him close as his.
"There was an argument at the party," you began, whispering the words into his shoulder loud enough for him to hear them.
"My roommate wanted me to meet a guy, the brother of the guy she had been hanging out with; and at first I made a joke about her with these two guys, brothers because she had been joking too but then she told me one would be there for me."
Pausing, you took a deep breath. Your hands had wandered, twirling starlight blonde strands between your fingers. It calmed you, grounded you.
"And I was shocked, really shocked and annoyed because why would she invite a guy for me to make out with as if I didn't have a say in it? Who does that? I have told here before that that's not something I do, especially not now…" your voice trailed off, "Not since you."
"She got angry so fast. In one second she was laughing about making out with two guys and in the next she said these really hurtful things and I stood there, listening to her yelling at me at a party I originally didn't even want to be at and she didn't stop, didn't pause, just throwing every negative thought she had about me on me like our friendship had meant nothing. Well, it wasn't really a friendship."
You were two identical puzzle pieces that had somehow pressed into each other when you had met in your shared apartment in the dorm three weeks before the start of university.
A friendship, much more based on forced harmony and the desire to desperately know someone in this new place than matching preferences.
The rest grew around the shared space, shared experience and somehow you found things you both enjoyed, partying mostly, before you concentrated on the friendship with the boys.
"She was so mean, Thranduil," you mumbled, hands continuing their work on braiding his hair absently minded. "I had to get out of there, it became to much too fast and I couldn't look at anyone anymore. The people there must have heard everything... there were some guys I knew from Saurons class– I don't even want to think about what they think of me now."
Thranduils hand stopped the reassuring movements on your back and they moved up to your neck, guiding your head to look at him.
"I am so very sorry that happened to you," he started and his eyebrows drew together over the cerulean eyes filled with concern.
"Firstly I think however she thought she was helping you with inviting that boy, she should've checked with you and accepted whatever answer you gave her. I don't want to defend her in any way but maybe in her mind that was how she wanted to spend the evening with you." He worded his opinion carefully, ever the lawyer and you could imagine that he had quite a bit of practice with Legolas as well.
"Yes, she did. After I moved into the dorm we went out.. a lot," you abandoned the finished braid and moved to the next few strands of hair, right behind his ear. "And sometimes she would bring a guy home and I did too, once or twice. It didn't made me happy, not really. I think she was jealous because I have Legolas and Gimli and Aragorn and with them I don't need some guy and alcohol to tolerate a party."
"But jealousy isn't a good enough explanation for hurting you, nothing is," Thranduil moved his head, giving you room to pull out some of the long hair from behind him before settling again. "Do you want to tell me what she said?"
You froze, hands still in his hair, thin strands slipping between your fingers like water.
'Do you know how disgusting it is to see you being driven home at night by a man as old as my father? Not to mention it's your best friend's father'
'At first I really believed you were sleeping with Legolas since you were always with him and god I would have understood that'
'Is he paying you for sex? Or what does he want from you of all people?'
It was like you were confronted with them for the first time, your body reacting to remembering the tone, the venom and you tensed up.
Thranduil felt it inevitably as your thighs squeezed around his legs and started to pull in to your chest.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours "Breathe for me, darling. Everything is alright, you are here."
"No it's not," you let out a breath as instructed, sitting up on Thranduils lap. "It's not and it's not fair that she can say these things and here I am, stupid enough to believe them.. or not doubt them. Stupid–"
"You are not stupid!" Thranduil said, his voice taking on a stern tone "You are far from it."
"Then how do you explain that it takes a simple 'no one really wants you if you're not fucking them' to have me crying on a curb in the middle of the night?"
You nearly didn't dare to open your eyes again, not when the tears were starting collect in them like the rain drops on the window sill but then Thranduils hands cupped your face fully, hands on your cheek and his thumbs followed the curve of your trembling lips.
"Look at me. Please, look at me," he whispered and you couldn't not follow.
The sight of Thranduil was blurred until you blinked a few times, sniffing to fight the tears from falling.
Thranduil's face was so close to you, close enough to nearly feel the words he was speaking. "You are a wonderful woman, my love, and these thoughts are poisoning your mind. If she said these things she doesn't know you as I do," He paused, holding your gaze and his heartbeat thrummed in your chest.
It beat in the same tact as the rain against the window.
Building up as your hand slid down from his hair to his chest, halting right above his heart.
"You never kiss me," you said in nothing more than an exhaled breath and the beat under your hand stuttered.
His eyes flickered down to where his thumbs where swiping over your mouth, hesitation in them when he looked back at you. "I know, I know. I wanted to, god I wanted to kiss you every time I dropped you off at your dorm and hated myself for letting you go with that look in your eyes that waited for me to do so," his voice trailed off into a sigh, his nose nudging against yours "To be honest with you my love, I was scared of how deep I would fall if I got closer to you, that I would lose myself. Ever since the night you stood in front of that painting, I could feel myself losing control over the rules I had set."
"Rules?" you interrupted, too confused to let that conversation drift away from that specific point.
He sighed again. "Yes, rules. Stupid ones really. When Legolas started talking about you I was intrigued, glad he found friends, yes, but the more time he spend just awing about your wit and how smart you were, helping him through exams, forcing him to study the more curious I got."
Thranduil's hands followed the curve of your cheekbone, continuing to talk as he caressed the skin in gentle movements that kept your head steadied on him.
"And then imagine my surprise when I picked you up that night at the bar–" He kissed the tip of your nose, "and here you were, not only smart, polite and so nervous but beautiful as well. And then you came over more and more, spending the night, reading more books in my library than I could count and you started these discussions at the breakfast table"
Thranduil huffed at the memory, shaking his head minimally.
"Politics, literature, oh even that one morning when you convinced Legolas to not skip class and he went out of the house with his night wear just because he wanted you to stop talking! I knew that if I didn't hold myself back I would move through hell and back if you asked me to. So I thought of these rules."
"Not touching you, not staring at you in awe, not lingering in the living room when you were over–", he counted on his finger of one hand.
"You did a good job at that," you whispered. Thranduil huffed out a laugh, his whole body heaving under you.
He nodded, "Yes, I may have failed sometimes–" You stared at him "Okay often! All that fell away after the moment at the painting. I knew I would never rest peacefully if I didn't try to find out what your true feelings were after you stared up at me."
"That's when things moved a lot faster. Why you were all hot-and-cold. " you concluded, your head feeling all fuzzy after listening to him.
All of it fell into place then, the hesitant touches, the disappearing into his study.
Have you two been suffering for much longer if you could have just talked to each other? But then, the teasing and the tension had been utterly electrifying.
"And, please tell me if I'm wrong, the night you asked me out, to the concert I mean, were you sure then? That this could work?"
Thranduil nodded, nose once again brushing against you. His hands fell down to your waist, which you gratefully leaned into. Your face had grown considerably warmer with his fingers stroking your lips.
"It was either the concert or Netflix and chill," he responded in such a wishful tone that had you laughing out loud.
"That wasn't my proudest moment. I swear you asking me out on a date was unbelievable. I missed the whole lecture from Sauron the next day because all I could think about was if you had been serious"
"Of course I was serious, the evening is all planned out in my mind. Frankly, I had planned it when I got the tickets and still had to ask you if you wanted to go. But I think we are getting of track here," You stared at him, thighs shuffling nervously around. You saw him swallowing, adams apple bobbing in his throat as his eyes darted down to your lips.
"I think," he started with his voice an octave deeper than before "I would very much like to kiss you now– if you'll still have me"
All you could do was nod and then Thranduils lips hovered over yours, his eyes searching your face for a final permission and when you gave it to him in a barely audible "please," his lips finally touched yours.
The first kiss was soft, almost just a brush. It was the catalyst, the lighter for the fire sizzling inside you.
You closed your eyes and let yourself fall. Hands fisted in his shirt you leaned closer, closing the gap between you for another kiss, this one more daring, lips starting to move against each other in a hurry.
Thranduils hands grabbed your waist more forwardly, bunshing the fabric up, fingertips ghosting over your heated skin and you gasped into his mouth at the feeling of the cool and smooth digits.
He used it as an opportunity and licked over your lips with his tongue, crashing every thought you would ever had into a mess.
This was not like other first-kisses, this was not some fumbling around and trying to get into a rhythm.
Thranduil's lips moved with a purpose and directed urgency reflecting the hundreds of thoughts you both shared individually about this moment.
A deep and rumbling hum of appreciation vibrated in his chest and his hands spread all over your hips, holding you close to him as if you would ever think of leaving again.
When you broke apart, gasping for air and chest heaving, you could only stare at him. Thranduil's gaze was wandering over your face, dilated pupils hushing right and back, taking you all in in a way, gaze so pure and open with all of his feelings pouring out of it, that your heart screamed and her bones ached.
It was then and it was right.
There was no more space, no more shadows, just you and him.
"Again"
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taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds, @mssuguru, @solartoge, @12134z03, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @lady-of-imladris , @finallyforgotten , @123forgottherest @tomhockstetter7-111 @marshymallo @emily-roberts @howlerwolfmax @tigereyesf @seththetinydemon
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lou-struck · 23 days
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Dodge This!
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Mirio Togata x reader (ft. Tamaki Amajiki)
~ Mirio has a new hobby and he just had to bring you along to cheer him on.
W.C. 2.6k
a/n: this was a sleep-deprived idea but I really am happy at how this turned out. I really had to incorporate some non-canon pop culture references for narrative sake. 
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The dimly lit pathways do little to conceal the drying puddles of rainwater on the street around you as you and your boyfriend, Mirio Togata, pass rows of darkened buildings in the city's warehouse district. 
"Are you sure we're heading to the right place, Mirio?" You whisper, looking around for any sign of another person. "It seems awfully quiet around here."
He gives you a smile and drapes one of his strong arms around you, pulling you close. "There's nothing to worry about, y/n; we'll get to the gym soon. I just can't wait for you to see me play."
The game in question, dodgeball…
It's no secret pro heroes have some of the hardest jobs out there. Over time, pros have found ways to unwind after work just like everyone else, joining book clubs, poker groups, and adult sports teams.
The latter of which has been gaining more traction in recent years.
After hearing about a quirk-friendly recreational dodgeball league, Mirio jumped at the chance to sign up for a chance to use his quirk for something other than work. The first few times he had gone out, he returned sweaty, slightly bruised from ducking and diving against the gym floor, but more happy than you have seen him in a while. 
This is saying something because he is literally a big ball of Sunshine, hope, and optimism. All wrapped in a thick coating of good humor and affection.
At first, you did not want to go. Not because you weren't interested in watching a bunch of Pro Heroes throw rubber balls at one another but because it seemed like this was his thing. This little league has been so therapeutic for him you didn't want to inject yourself into the experience. But after weeks of pleading from him, you finally relented, knowing that in your heart, he wants to share this new and exciting part of his life with you, the person he loves most in the world. 
"Oh, watch your step there," he says suddenly. His large forearm shoots out in front of your stomach to stop you from stepping into a massive pothole full of rainwater. 
"Thank you." Looking down into the deep hole in the ground, you shudder, imagining the uncomfortable sensation of walking around all night with a sock drenched in rainwater. "You really saved me there, Lemillion." your smile is soft as you meet his twinkling gaze. 
His smiling cheeks flush a light pink color at the soft way you said his Hero name. "Anything for you," he beams, taking your hand and guiding you over the obnoxiously large puddle. His hand stays comfortably on your own as you continue walking down the paved street. He happily hums the Mission Impossible theme song, his current hyper-fixation, until he comes to a stop in front of a large warehouse. The white fluorescent light on the outside flickers as it is circled by big white moths.
"And here we are," he declares, turning his attention to you. His features turn serious as he places both of his hands on your shoulder. "Now, do you remember the first rule of underground dodgeball?"
"Ummm, don't talk about underground dodgeball?" you reply as his poker face shatters into his usual joyful features.
"That's it,” he laughs, his body practically buzzing with excitement. 
"I should've never made you watch Fight Club, "you mutter under your breath as he takes some sort of access card out of his jacket pocket and slides it into the electronic lock. It beeps in response and the little red light on the side of the sensor turns from red to green as the metal doors open for the both of you. 
You are flabbergasted at the complexity of the private facility. "All this for dodgeball?" this is kinda high tech, and you wonder which one of the country's extremely wealthy, retired Pro Heroes decided to fund this operation. 
"Yeah, isn't it the best?" he asks, practically bounding down the short hallway toward the ever-growing sound of chatter. His mannerisms remind you of a golden retriever on its way to the dog park. The mental image brings a smile to your lips as you step into a massive gymnasium, its warm overhead lights illuminating the whole room. 
A massive indoor sports court lies in the center of the room, surrounded by a few rows of bleachers. 
There are already a multitude of heroes and sidekicks standing around the room, some tossing red rubber balls into the padded walls with a scary strength behind them. The impact sends shivers down your spine as you worriedly look to Mirio. But he doesn't seem nervous in the slightest at the possibility of decapitation by rubber ball. Instead, his blue eyes are alight with the fires of competitive determination. 
"This is…" The word frightening lingers on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch. 
"Incredible isn't it? In here we get to let loose a bit and have fun without worrying about our rankings or the media."
You nod, noticing the carefree smiles of the other Heroes in the room. This league is a good thing for them to have fun and just act like they are normal people whilst throwing rubber balls at each other.
He looks at the clock counting down on the switchboard above the gym and shoots you an embarrassed grin. "It looks like we are cutting it a bit close today. My game starts in five minutes, so I'll have to warm up a bit so I can really impress you."
"I'm already impressed with you Mirio," you smile fondly. "I'll go up to the bleachers and get all settled in."
You turn to leave him to his own devices, and you feel a gentle pull on your wrist before you can step away. "Wait," he says firmly, the look on his face dead serious. "You're forgetting something."
"You cock your head to the side and try to remember what he could be talking about. When he sees that furrow in your brow, his serious face melts away, revealing that mischievous boyish grin that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. "You forgot my good luck kiss."
"Oh my," you mock gasp, "how could I forget such an important thing?"
He shakes his head, "It's a crime for sure; you'll have to pay double for this infraction."
"I think that can be arranged," you chuckle, closing the short distance between your two bodies and pressing two gentle pecks to his lips. The kiss is brief, but you can still taste the berry-flavored chapstick he put on earlier lingering on his lips. 
You pull away and playfully tug down on the hem of his shirt. "Good luck, Mirio," you murmur, nudging him off toward the court where his other teammates are waiting for him.
It's a short walk up a lightweight metal staircase to the raised bleachers. Since these leagues are pretty low profile, there aren't many spectators. You see a few groups of people waiting to play in the next round, but near the back of the bleachers, you spot a familiar-looking head of indigo hair sitting all by themselves. 
"Hello, Tamaki," you say, coming over to sit next to your friend. "I didn't know you were on one of the dodgeball teams."
"I'm not," he replies, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. The heavenly aroma of butter fills your nostrils as you pull your gaze away from the bag he must've gotten from one of the little concession areas in the warehouse. "But someone at my agency wanted to make plans tonight, and I told them I was busy, so I decided to come here so I wasn't lying to them."
"Oh, I get it," you say sympathetically. "But I'm glad you're here. I don't really know anyone else, so it will be nice to have someone to talk to."
He gives you a small smile and tilts his popcorn bag towards you. "Thanks y/n. Here, take some. I saw you were looking at it earlier."
"Thank you," you smile embarrassedly at the realization you are just as sneaky as Mirio. "Was it that obvious?"
"Just a little bit," he says. 
Suddenly, you are interrupted by the sound of a rubber ball hitting the wall with a terrifying force. It barrels back at the player who threw it like a boomerang. "Wow, do these balls just not pop?"
"Not usually," Tamaki says. "Since these games are for Pro Heros, the equipment was designed by support specialists to be extra durable. Occasionally, things will break, but it's way less common than with normal equipment."
"I see," you say quietly. Instinctually, your eyes dart over to Mirio in concern, but he looks so genuinely happy stretching and talking with his teammates it gives you a sense of security. If he isn't worried, you shouldn't be either.
A short man in a referee uniform steps up to the side of the court and blows the silver whistle from around his neck. The clear, high-pitched sound echoes off the walls, signaling to the teams of six to take the court.
A line of red rubber balls sit motionless in the center of the court. The players are touching the back walls with just the tips of their fingers as they stare the balls down hungrily as they try to decide which one to go for first.
There is a competitive intensity in the air that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but when you finally zero in on your boyfriend on the court, he doesn't seem to be at all intimidated. 
Instead of the balls or his opponents or anything else game-related, you see that he is looking up in the bleachers right at you. A big, goofy grin rests on his face as he waves up at you enthusiastically. 
You laugh and give him a small wave back just as the starting whistle blows, and both teams are off. Mario doesn't run toward the line of ammunition at all; he hangs back and paces across the floor with an open, unassuming posture that basically invites his opponents to chuck a ball at his chest. 
It doesn't take long until the first player takes the bait. A woman with plum-colored skin and a long silver ponytail steps up and throws the ball his way with a wicked speed. It has a slight backspin as it barrels toward his face. 
It gets closer and closer until he activates his quirk, and it passes harmlessly through his body and hits the wall behind him. If it weren't for the special workout clothes he was wearing, you would worry about him sinking through the ground and popping up completely naked.
"Nice throw," he smiles, crouching slightly to pick up the now harmless ball. "If that had hit me, I would definitely feel that tomorrow." He winds up his throw and slings it across the court with a curve. 
The woman dodged just barely, but the man behind her wasn't so lucky. The ball hits one of his spring-loaded knees as he tries to leap out of the way and is sent off by the referee. 
"Way to go Mirio." you cheer happily. When the sound of your voice reaches his ear, he can't help but puff out his chest with pride. 
'Watch me,' he mouths, stepping into the middle of the court. 
"Looks like someone is getting overconfident," Tamaki mutters next to you. 
"What do you mean?" you ask as Mirio sneaks a smile your way just as his opponents throw three balls at him at once. Thanks to his quirk, he is basically untouchable. If this whole 'hero thing' doesn't work out, you are sure he will have a promising career in the underground dodgeball circuit.
Because that is totally a real thing. 
"Wow, he's incredible," you murmur to Tamaki. 
"He is," the hero replies, "but Mirio has a weakness."
"Really?" you ask, struggling to think of how he can lose at this game, "how so?"
"Just watch, you'll see what I mean," he replies, taking a long sip from his water bottle.
And watch you do. 
As the game rages on, Mirio's teammates are picked off one by one until Mirio finds himself staring down his opponents. The woman with the silver ponytail and the man with the strength quirk you saw earlier warming up. 2 vs. 1 may not be a fair fight, but you have full faith in your boyfriend. 
 His evasive maneuvers are professional and practiced. He is so good at dodging, ducking, dipping, diving, and dodging some more until all of the balls on the playing field end up on his side, safely out of his opponent's reach.
With a bright red ball in his hand, you see him wind up his throw, rush to the top of the court, and send it flying through the air with all his might.
But the man from before, smiling in his black leather singlet (which cannot be comfortable), catches the ball with one of his giant hands as if it were a balloon. 
Mirio is out. 
The ref blows the final whistle, and the match ends. 
After shaking hands with each one of his opponents, his smile falls, and he sulks over to you with his head hung low. "Ahhh, I was so close," he groans, plopping down next to you and leaning his sweat-dusted brow on your shoulder. 
"But you played so well," you say gently, consoling him. "This is so much fun to watch. Thank you for inviting me."
He perks up and puts his chin on your shoulder. "You had fun?"
You nod and press your lips to his forehead. "So much fun."
Tamaki clears his throat. "You player well, fo you play again?"
"Tamaki, thank you for coming." Mirio smiles, looking over to his best friend. "Yeah, I think we play again after this game. Do you want to play? I think we can add in an extra player."
The indigo-haired man's eyes go wide as he starts to shake his head. "N-no, I can't."
"Why not?" Mirio asks cocking his head to the side."
You watch as Tamaki tries to come up with an excuse. “Because… because…”
"That doesn't sound like a reason to me." you hum thoughtfully. 
Mirio claps his hands together. "Perfect, then you'll be playing on my team in the next round."
"We could get ice cream afterward." you offer as the shy hero accepts his fate.
He narrows his eyes. "Fine, I'll play. But you're paying."
"Done," you agree, as your boyfriend looks like he is about to burst from happiness at the idea of playing dodgeball with his best friend. 
"This is great!" he exclaims, patting Tamaki on the back. "There's extra clothes in the locker room in the back, go get changed."
"You sound too excited about this," Suneater mumbles as he heads off toward where the locker room must be, with the slightest hint of pep in his step.
Your boyfriend looks at you warmly, his sapphire eyes filled with love as he takes your hand. "Thank you for helping me convince him to play. I think this will be good for him to let loose a bit."
"I think you guys will have fun." you say earnestly, "I can't wait to watch."
Mirio gently pokes your cheeks. 
"Hey y/n?"
"Babe?"
"The love of my life?" 
You scoff as his enthusiasm brings a smile to your lips. "Yes?"
"If we win the next game can I get two scoops?" he leans in close to you and peppers your face with bribing kisses, your favorite form of currency."
"Mirio, if you win. I'll get you three scoops."
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Tagging: @enchantedforest-network
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while the city sleeps we rule the streets was hilarious for being like. song that’s intensely narcissistically horny in an almost comical way -> meaningful and borderline tender love song that’s pretending not to be a meaningful and borderline tender love song -> song about kidnapping someone and locking them in a basement
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Tracklist:
Being From Jersey Means Never Having To Say You're Sorry • Send My Love To The Dance Floor, I'll See You In Hell (Hey Mister DJ) • The Church Of Hot Addiction • The Kids Are All F****d Up • It's Warmer In The Basement • Keep It Simple • It's Amateur Night At The Apollo Creed! • Bring It (Snakes On A Plane) • The Ballad Of Big Poppa And Diamond Girl • Pop-Punk Is Sooooo '05 • You Can't Be Missed If You Never Go Away
Spotify ♪ YouTube
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betterbooktitles · 1 month
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The first time I ever saw someone answer a cell phone in a movie theater was in the middle of a midnight screening of Mel Gibson’s The Passion Of The Christ. A blood-drenched Jim Caviezel was being whipped when I heard “Hello? Yeah, what’s good? I’m in the movie.” My stomach started to bounce as I tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh. My friend Jeremy elbowed me to either egg me on or stop me, knowing the laughter would catch on with the rest of our group: ten other Saint Ignatius High School students who chose to go on an “Urban Immersion” retreat our senior year.
I saw Mr. Grady’s tear-stained face turn in the darkness. He was sitting a row in front of us, and he appeared to be livid. He let out a sharp “shhh!” then looked over to let us know he’d do far worse if we did anything further to disrupt his viewing experience. Disciplinary actions would be taken if we giggled again. Our trip would be cut short. A teacher threatening to send us all home to our parents that week, however, would have been welcomed.
Most Ignatius students went on “Kairos” retreats (Greek: “God’s Time”) that featured three days of camping and praying, followed by a “witness” portion where students arrived back on campus to share, at the center of St. Mary’s chapel, what they’d learned during their period of reflection. Typically, they said “I love you, Dad!” while fighting back tears before running back to their pews. They also wrote letters about their newfound or newly confirmed love of Jesus Christ. I received one of these letters from my best friend who was a year ahead of me. His words moved and excited me. I anticipated my trip all year.
The students in the movie theater with me that night, however, had all signed up for a retreat in which we spent the week living as if on the streets of inner-city Cleveland. The Urban Immersion retreat was four days of sleeping in a church basement, living off the equivalent of food stamps (about $5 a day for groups of four), and eating the rest of our meals at shelters where we also volunteered our time. There was also a “scared straight” period where we sat in a circle of folding chairs at the 2100 men’s shelter my friend Luke’s dad ran and listened to grown men scream about how “crack does not discriminate!” 
Also, we got to see The Passion of The Christ opening night.
Perhaps you read about the record-setting earnings this movie made the week it premiered. The first $125 million was thanks to big groups like ours attending. Also thanks to the guy who had to answer his phone while the Romans killed Christ. I’m not sure how we as mock-poor kids on our immersion trip were supposed to be able to afford the movie ourselves in keeping with the rules, but the timing seemed right, so our teachers took us.
Read the rest here.
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