#Black Badge Dawn

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced bonding, subjugation, some type of discrimination, elements of androgyny

♡ fem reader

Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…

He could never bring himself to breed with Alphas. Growing up, he developed a great disdain for them—all high and mighty rabid animals prone to violence, more often than not completely dimwitted to top it off, as if their massive ego had usurped the place of basic brain operation.

He couldn’t hate them more, yet he doesn’t correct anyone when they mistake him for one, either. In many ways, he wished he was born one instead of an Omega. It would make it easier to fulfill his desires that way. A dominant Omega isn’t all that normal, after all—and submissive Alphas are an even rarer breed to come by.

He hadn't found one yet. And other Omegas don’t really do it for him. They approach him, thinking he’s an Alpha, then feel disappointed when figuring out he’s not—which is fine, as he isn’t particularly interested in their scent either. Betas make for an okay compromise—they don’t care if he’s an Omega, it makes no difference to them—yet he could never really shake the feeling that something was missing when lying with them.

At the office, the scent of Alphas plagues him all day—how they strut around, stinking up the place with no concern for anyone else. This is a workplace, for fuck’s sake—can’t they have a little dignity and not treat it like a mating ground? He really hates them. All bigheaded assholes—

“Ow—” there’s bark and a hard thunk of something hitting the floor.

Someone just bumped into him—someone so small he hadn’t even seen them over the top of his clipboard. Looking down, he sees a fellow Omega—a pretty one. You must be as disoriented by the scent around you as he is—probably why you walked right into him—poor thing. He ought to help you up.

You hold your head in your hand, wincing at the sting of your rear—you’d fallen right on your tailbone. Looking up, you give the fellow Alpha who’d knocked you down a mean glare, “What the hell, asshole!”

His outstretched hand stiffens midway. That’s not a very Omega-like thing to say—especially not by one so small as you. No, wait… what’s that scent?

You ignore his hand and get up on your own, dusting down your pin-stripes with angry brushes—face pursed, almost pouty, but not quite, too stink-eyed as you lean in and jab a finger into his chest to punctuate your words, “Watch where you’re going next time, you…”

You soften up halfway through the sentence. It must have dawned on you as well. His scent. Not like other Alphas, but something else entirely—something that suddenly makes you blush all over, wide-eyed.

You don’t say another word, only giving a weak huff before turning tail and stomping away.

There’s something very cute about it—he’s left thinking while watching you, utterly stunned and still, replaying the events that just occurred over and over in his head—wondering how he’d never seen you before. You must work on a different floor.

Luckily, he’d made sure to read your name tag—pinned all properly on your chest like a badge of honor, neatly like the rest of you. Well put together from the top of your salon-styled hair down to the tips of your pointy black stilettos. Even with their added height, you must have been two heads shorter than him—no taller than any regular Omega.

It's no wonder he mistook you for one. You were as cute as one, too—like a doll he could put behind glass, up on a mantle, and keep forever. But oh my… that mouth on you and that awful snarl. Just like any other imposing Alpha, he supposed. Bratty and arrogant, quick to jump the gun and pick a fight instead of taking it for the simple accident it was.

He goes back and sets himself down by his desk—but he’s way too distracted to work now, too busy with the thought of you. That flushed face you showed him before teetering off was something he wouldn’t mind seeing again—also that cute scowl under certain circumstances and what type of expression you’d give him if he wiped it off.

He's lucky an office party came along so quickly. He wouldn’t usually go, but now he had a reason. He bet you’d be there—the way you were dressed when you’d bumped into him tells him you’re one to respect the memo—head to toe in such a neat suit, trying to come off as androgynous as if in desperation needing everyone to know you were an Alpha. It must be hard for you—looking like that but wanting to look… well, suppose more like him.

He's glad he never felt that way—wishing to be smaller and cuter like other Omegas. Sure, he’s been envious of them at times, but more so of their easy pickings and not their appearance. He’s happy being bigger and stronger—it keeps unwanted attention at bay. You probably struggle to do the same. He bets you get a lot of the wrong eyes following you. Yeah… you must attract the bad sort all the time—alphas swarming you only to catch your scent and lose interest. Or maybe not… Alphas are sick, after all. Come to think of it, most of them would probably get off on dominating another Alpha. In that regard, it must have been worse for you than for him. Luckily, both of your issues are now solved.

He wondered what you’d wear tonight. You’d look much better in something feminine and not that suit you’d been wearing. He hopes, but no, you’re wearing much the same thing—another tailored two-piece that all but drowns you.

He understands what you’re going for. You have to dress like that, or else what Omega would ever want you looking the way you do? Aside from him, of course.

No matter. When you move in with him, he’ll dress you in all the pretty things he knows you want to wear. After all, pretty colors, ruffles, and lace will suit you so much better.

“Hello again.” He approaches you by the hors d’oeuvres even after you’d visibly and explicitly chosen to ignore him.

You groan under your breath, responding without even bothering to look at him, “Do I know you?”

Your tough act is cute. He has to withhold a chuckle before answering, “Don’t remember? You called me an asshole a week ago.”

“You walked right into me, so it’s not like it wasn’t deserved.”

You have to love that arrogance—that air of unfounded superiority. He wonders, where do you keep it all? “Well, how could I not? You’re so small I didn’t even see you.”

You’re quick to bare your teeth—obviously, he hit a nerve—showing him that same snarl you’d done back then. Cute little canines—he bet they won’t even hurt going into his neck once you mark him.

“Watch your mouth, Omega.”

Still, with a small smile, he feigns surprise. “Wow—are you an Alpha? Funny, I didn’t know they came in such tiny packages.”

It flusters you, no doubt—your brows lowered into a full glower now. “And I didn’t know Omegas could be so rude.”

You turn to stomp again, as you’d done before—though this time, he grabs your arm before you’re gone.

You whip around with another bark, “Hands off—"

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes unexpectedly, giving you puppy-dog eyes you hadn’t thought him capable of. “I should have been more mindful of my steps. It was entirely my fault.”

You go still at the sudden show of humility and respect. Finding yourself softening by the tilt of his head, bowing at you in acknowledgment of your higher standing. Not that many bother doing that to you—between mistaking you for an Omega or otherwise neglecting your standing as an Alpha, both due to your physique. Seeing it up close and so abruptly flusters you.

“Let me get you a drink to make up for it?” he offers politely, almost in plead.

Struck with feelings of somewhat regret for your own uncouth attitude, you nearly accept on a whim. “That’s kind…” But then think it over. You don’t really want to lead him on, either. You nearly stutter, yet steal yourself. After all… “But you’re not really my type.”

He hangs his head with a dejected sigh, “That’s harsh.” But he’d already figured as much and didn’t really care. Giving you his most sorry grin, he insists, “Humor me anyway? Just one drink so I don’t feel like an asshole for the rest of my life.”

It’s clear you want to refuse—still, as suspected, your heart just can’t handle seeing a desperate Omega in need. Bless your dim Alpha instincts.

“Okay, fine. One drink, that’s all,” you end up agreeing. One drink can’t hurt, right?

You feel like a good Samaritan once the big hunk of an Omega runs off to fetch you a glass. Pitying him or even sympathizing, maybe—it can’t be easy for an Omega in the mating scene to look like that. No Alpha around would want an Omega bigger than them—it’s utterly emasculating, not to mention unnatural.

Of course, you’re aware you’re in much the same shoes as him—you’re not delusional. Only, it’s easy being an independent Alpha—you don’t mind being a lone wolf in the world—but Omegas were built to be domestic. So yeah, you pity him—the poor guy, he’ll probably never find a proper mate.

But you can’t let your pity grant him too many favors—you have no intention of taking on any charity case tonight, especially not a pity fuck. You’ll have one drink with him as a mutual apology. That’s all.

Luckily… one drink is all he needs. Add a little sprinkle of this and that in your glass, and you’re already in the palm of his hand.

He has to carry you bridal style before he’s even managed to lead you to the elevator—it’s empty all the way down to the garage. He puts you in his car, locks your seatbelt in place, then drives off. It’s honestly quite astounding how easy it had been. He’d thought trapping an Alpha would be a much more remarkable feat, an impossible one for an Omega—but this was no different from eating an unguarded piece of cake.

You’re drowsy as he carries you into his apartment. And that’s when the other drug kicks in. The overwhelming scent of being inside his nest sets off your rut like a matchstick being ripped along the red.

Your claws come out, puncturing his sheets as he lays you down on his bed.

You’re too delirious to do much but writhe—making it easy for him to unbutton your dress shirt, followed by your slacks. He has to scoff at your plain black boxers and binder bra. You poor thing, always trying to run with the big dogs when you’re no bigger than a bite-sized puppy. From now on, you’ll only wear lacey things he brings home for you. You won’t have to puff your chest—you can be as sweet and pretty as your delicate physique constitutes—his cutest, littlest, most perfect mate.

You gain newfound strength once he’s peeled your underwear down, baring your needy heat to his touch. Instantly, your arms spring into action, flinging themselves around him, pouncing like a predator at its prey with your fangs bared.

He stops you easily—placing his wrist between your teeth, using it as a muzzle. He chuckles, looking at you gnaw on it like a bone.

“I think the world has it all wrong,” he starts, though he’s not sure you’re even capable of understanding speech in your state. “Omegas are the ones better suited as leaders of society, not Alphas.”

As he talks, he continues with his ministrations, stroking your needy slit with a mean finger, swiping it cruelly before splitting between the folds.

“I mean, look at you—mindless in a rut, willing to pounce on anything that moves—like a wild animal.” Once he sticks his finger inside you, your teeth do his wrist the same justice—drawing blood, making him hiss through his smile, “I ought to keep you in a cage.” And yet he doesn’t pull either hand away. “It would suit you well—on your knees with a pretty leash and collar upon your throat.”

You’re wet in his hand—soaked and so warm he loses track of his own finger as if melting within you. His cock strains against his boxer, wanting to feel it for himself. But you’re still way too tight for that.

He feeds you another digit, and you moan—suckling on his wrist now more than biting, though still with your canines out and seeking.

“Look at these wittle teeth, tch—” he grins upon closer inspection, looking between them and your eyes—pupil-fat orbs, far gone in your instincts. “I bet they’re just itching for my neck instead, huh?”

The provocation seems to make you more desperate. Pumping you slowly, more so to stretch you out than stimulate, he can feel your breaths turn thicker with need, how you press your tongue against his wrist, wet and lousy, wanting for more.

“Well, go on then, Alpha...” He chuckles again, removing his arm from barring your mouth before wrapping your throat with the same hand, holding it like a collar, keeping you under control.

And then he bares his neck for you.

“I give my consent.”

♡ part two

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[night-lakmen]

Ok let's go.

nsfw beyond this.

Tw- Sleepy kisses, so much smut. Oral (f!receiving), fingering. Cuddle sex. Horny young couples.

After the battle of Manhattan, many had assumed you two had ended your relationship with one dead after a sacrifice and the other still in camp with the badge of Aphrodite counselor on her chest.

What they forgot was how stubborn Aphrodite kids could be when it came to their love.

Even though Luke and you had been on different sides of the war, the gods themselves knew no one could truly separate you from him, the root from its tree, a daughter of Aphrodite from her lover. There was nothing he did that you supported other than his motives, but deep down everyone could see the way Luke felt for you even when he was possessed by Kronos.

The Titan Lord himself had admitted to him finding it incredibly strange and overwhelming, just how much the body felt for you. After he stabbed himself in the arm to end the battle, you had sworn to bring him back—even if you needed to give up your very title of the dagger of Aphrodite, the honor Aphrodite herself had bestowed upon you.

It hadn't been easy.

Days and nights through Tartarus and the underworld, quests and tasks for the gods, multiple fights with monsters and facing Nyx herself had taken their toll on you but you kept moving.

For him, for the boy with the sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen.

The day he had been returned to you, you already knew something was wrong with him. He felt paler and weaker, his body almost crumpling in your arms as you held him up to kiss and caress his face with your own bruised palms. The world had completely sucked him off his energy, his body having given away due to the pain of dying as a traitor in his own mind. Yet when he had spoken, his voice was one of hope and pure love.

"...Ribbons?"

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

It had been 2 years after that. Away from Camp Half-Blood, away from the life of demigods and monsters, you two had created a small family where you two lived as normally as an ex-traitor and the ex-golden child of Aphrodite could.

A house in the outskirts of a city with a white fence, a black retriever he had named Oscar, and walls with the babiest shade of blue—it was everything you two had promised each other under the stars as young kids in love. The war, the crimson clovers that had been shed for you to get all of this, didn’t seem to matter whenever you were with him. Luke, now 24, had taken up a job as a marketing executive for a company you couldn't really remember and you had restarted your career as a model, earning enough money for both of you to live a comfortable life together.

**

The sun peaked through the windows, drenching the sheets of the young couple in its warm golden glow. The bodies under it stirred, the larger man wrapping an arm around the girl who was nuzzled against his bare chest.

"Mh.." he groaned, turning his head towards the window to mentally curse Eos for letting dawn in so soon. His brown hair was a mess around his face, spread out over the pink pillowcases his wife had forced him to put on his pillow as well ('to keep the hair healthy'), and as always he had given in to her pouty lips and the big e/c colored eyes.

His head lowered down to the girl sleeping against his chest, her hair ruffled over the side of her face like a curtain of pure beauty. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept, her lips parted open ever so slightly. She still wore those violet pajamas she had bought online a few months ago, even though he assured her he wouldn't mind it if she slept naked. His hand moved up to caress her face, a small wince coming upon his features as he saw the old scar on the side of her neck left from her battling one of the Telekhines who had tried to stop her on her way to him. It was filled in well now, the only scar left on her otherwise smooth skin.

Their platinum marriage bands were mirrors of each other, with their initials carved on it like some promise to never let go of each other.

From Tartarus to back, with each other.

"Good morning, Ribbons," he whispered, kissing the top of her ear in a way he knew she loved. The nickname had stayed with them from their time back at the camp, a reminder of how he used to tease her for her habit of adding a ribbon to everything she wore. "Wake up, baby."

His hand slowly trailed down her back, fingertips dancing along her spine, sending shivers through her body. She stirred slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his warm breath against her neck. He nuzzled closer, pressing gentle kisses along her neck, his lips brushing against her skin in a way that made her toes curl."Mmh... Luke," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, a sleepy smile spreading across her face."Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, his hand sliding up under her pajama top to caress her bare back. She arched into his touch, sighing contentedly as he traced lazy circles on her skin."Is it morning already?" she asked, her voice a mix of sleepiness and contentment.

"Unfortunately, yes," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "But that doesn't mean we have to get up just yet."She giggled softly, turning in his arms to face him. Her hands came up to cup his face, pulling him into a slow, lingering kiss. He responded eagerly, deepening the kiss as his hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her hip."I like the sound of that," she whispered against his lips, her fingers threading through his hair. He smiled, kissing her again, more fervently this time, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, eliciting a soft gasp from her.

You're always so eager in the mornings," she teased, her lips brushing against his as she spoke."Can you blame me?" he murmured, his voice husky. "Waking up next to you like this... it's impossible to resist."

She blushed, her heart swelling with love for him. "I suppose I can forgive you," she said playfully, leaning in to capture his lips in another kiss. He groaned softly, his hand sliding down to cup her bottom, pulling her closer.

Their kisses grew more heated, their bodies pressing together, hands exploring and caressing. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her as he nuzzled against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he trailed kisses down her throat, his hands roaming over her body with a possessive tenderness.

His hands slid down her back, resting on her hips as he gently pulled her on top of him. She let out a soft laugh, her hair falling around them like a h/c curtain as she straddled his waist. He looked up at her, eyes filled with adoration, his hands tracing lazy circles on her thighs.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day I wake up next to you, I feel like the luckiest man alive."

She blushed, her heart fluttering at his words. Leaning down, she kissed him softly, her lips lingering on his as their bodies pressed closer together. His hands roamed up her sides, slipping under her top to caress the soft skin of her back. She sighed into the kiss, her fingers threading through his hair as she deepened it, their breaths mingling in the quiet morning air.

Luke's hands moved to the hem of her pajama top, slowly lifting it over her head and tossing it aside. His eyes roamed appreciatively over her exposed skin, his hands following the path of his gaze, brushing over her breasts and making her shiver.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper.

"Good," she replied with a playful smile, leaning down to press kisses along his jawline, her hands splayed on his chest. "Because you drive me crazy too."

He groaned softly, his hands gripping her waist as she continued to kiss her way down his neck. She could feel his heartbeat quicken under her touch, his skin warm and inviting. Her lips trailed down to his collarbone, her kisses growing more fervent as she moved lower.

Luke's hands moved up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She gasped, arching into his touch, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. He smiled up at her, his eyes dark with desire, before pulling her down for another deep, searing kiss.

"Gods, I love you," he breathed against her lips, his hands sliding down to grip her hips once more. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I’m never letting you go."

Her heart swelled at his words, her own hands roaming over his chest and abdomen, savoring the feel of his muscles under her fingertips.

"You don't have to do anything," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "Just love me."

"Always," he promised, his hands sliding down to cup her bottom, pulling her closer. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, a reminder of the desire simmering between them. She ground against him, eliciting a low groan from his lips as his hands gripped her even tighter.

She smiled, leaning down to kiss him again, her lips trailing down his neck to his chest. Her hands roamed over his body, tracing the scars and lines she had come to know so well. Each touch, each kiss, was a promise, a reaffirmation of the love and desire that bound them together.

Luke's hands continued to explore her body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in another searing kiss, their bodies moving together in a slow, intimate dance. The world outside their little haven faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other."I can't believe we made it here," she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion. "After everything... we're finally home."

His hands moved with a gentle insistence, guiding her hips as he shifted their positions, laying her back on the bed. He kissed her softly, his lips trailing down her neck, savoring the soft sighs and moans that escaped her lips. His hands slid down her sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with hers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Let's get these off," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide her pajamas down her legs, leaving her completely exposed before him.

His hands caressed her thighs, spreading them gently as he kissed his way down her body. Her breath hitched as his lips trailed over her stomach, each kiss sending shivers of anticipation through her. He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a gaze filled with love and desire.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "Every inch of you."

Before she could respond, his lips continued their descent, pressing gentle kisses along her inner thighs. She gasped, her fingers tangling in the sheets as he moved closer to her core, the anticipation making her heart race. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he lowered his mouth to her most intimate place.

The first touch of his tongue made her cry out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure surged through her. He moved with practiced skill, his tongue teasing and exploring, drawing soft moans and gasps from her lips. His hands held her firmly, keeping her in place as he lavished attention on her most sensitive spots.

"Luke," she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure. "Oh gods..."

He hummed in response, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that made her toes curl. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She could feel the tension building within her, the pleasure mounting with every touch, every flick of his tongue.

Her fingers found their way to his hair, gripping tightly as she rocked her hips against his mouth. He responded eagerly, his movements becoming more insistent, more focused. He knew exactly how to drive her to the edge, how to bring her to the brink of ecstasy and hold her there.

"Please," she gasped, her body trembling with need. "Don't stop..."

He had no intention of stopping. His tongue circled her clit, flicking and teasing, his lips closing around the sensitive nub and sucking gently. The sensation was too much, too intense, and she felt herself spiraling towards release.

Her cries filled the room as her climax crashed over her, her body shaking with the force of it. Luke held her through it, his tongue never faltering, drawing out her pleasure until she was a quivering, breathless mess. Only then did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening with her arousal.

He moved back up her body, pressing soft kisses to her flushed skin, his hands caressing her sides. When he reached her lips, he kissed her deeply, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, her hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him closer.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too," she replied, her voice breathless and filled with love. "So much."

Luke's hands continued their exploration, his fingers trailing teasingly over her inner thighs. She shivered at his touch, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of her climax. He looked up at her, a devilish glint in his eyes as he licked his lips, savoring her taste.

"You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "I could do this all day."

"Luke," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of arousal and desperation. "Please..."

"Please what, baby?" he teased, his fingers inching closer to her core. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," she gasped, her hips arching towards his hand. "I need you."

He grinned, his fingers slipping between her folds, finding her still wet and sensitive. He stroked her slowly, his touch deliberate and teasing. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So ready."

"Yes," she breathed, her body quivering under his touch. "I want you inside me."

His fingers dipped into her entrance, sliding in easily, making her moan. He moved them slowly at first, savoring the way she responded, her hips moving to meet his thrusts. "Gods, you're so tight," he groaned, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing in slow, tantalizing circles. "You feel so good around my fingers."

She whimpered, her hands clutching at the sheets as he increased his pace, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that sweet spot that made her see stars. "Luke," she gasped, her voice breaking with need. "I need more. Please..."

He withdrew his fingers, earning a disappointed whine from her, but it was quickly replaced with a gasp of anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs. He lined himself up, his tip brushing against her entrance, teasing her further.

"Do you want this?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

"Yes," she replied, her voice trembling with desire. "Please, Luke. I need you inside me."

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside her, filling her completely. They both moaned at the sensation, their bodies connecting in the most intimate way. He paused for a moment, letting her adjust to his size, his hands gripping her hips.

"You feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So perfect."

"Move," she pleaded, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "Please, Luke."

He didn't need to be asked twice. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, savoring the way she felt around him. Her moans filled the room, her body arching to meet his every movement, the pleasure building between them.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "So perfect. I love the way you feel."

"I love you," she gasped, her nails digging into his back as he increased his pace, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. "Oh gods, I love you so much."

"Come for me, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Let me feel you come around me."

His words pushed her over the edge, her climax crashing over her with a force that left her breathless. She cried out his name, her body tightening around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out her orgasm. The sensation of her walls clenching around him was too much, and with a few more thrusts, he followed her, spilling into her with a groan of pure pleasure.

They lay there, tangled in each other, their bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison. He kissed her softly, his hands caressing her sides as they both caught their breath.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Forever and always."

"Forever and always," she echoed, her heart full to bursting with love for the man who had given her everything.

"Now get up, mister Castellan, you're late for work already" She teased with a small smile as she flicked his forehead,but Luke only smiled.

"Hm," He agreed as he lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles thumb moving over the wedding band on her finger before he spoke again.

"I'll be alright as long as I'm late because of you,"

He looked at her, his brown eyes almost shimmering in tears.

"𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯."

[yamujiburo]

POKEMON SERIES RANKED (IMO)

I get this question a lot and haven't made an updated list with Journeys

Original Series (S1-S5)

Sun & Moon (S20-S22)

Chronicles (S0)

Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)

Advanced (S6-S9)

Journeys (S23-S25)

Black & White (S14-S16)

XY (S17-S19)

Original Series (S1-S5)

OS had that first season charm. Very unpolished, still finding its footing but super enjoyable for those reasons

Probably the strongest series comedy-wise

That GORGEOUS 90s anime style

Main character dynamics were REALLY strong

Ash's personality felt much more like a shitty little 10 year old which was entertaining

Dub writing was also the best hands down

Sun & Moon (S20-S22)

Honestly tied for first with OS for me

REALLY fun ensemble cast! They do a fantastic job giving each character enough time for you to get to know and care about

Excellent modern anime style that perfectly fit the vibe of the season and allowed for some of the best character animation of the show's run

Finally figured out how to write Ash like a 10 year old again (but in a kind/sweet 10 year old way as opposed to OS)

Very different from previous series in terms of the formula they'd follow. Doing a school series instead of another "8 badges to championship" plot felt new and fresh!

This series genuinely made me cry the most (MEMORIES IN THE MIST!!!!! LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME)

Chronicles (S0)

Fun concept! It was really nice to see more of the side characters without Ash there. We get to see more of Misty, Tracey, Daisy, Brock, Ritchie, Oak, Delia, Butch, Cassidy, Jessie, James and Meowth!

Stylistically really nice. Just solid drawings all around and it retained the 90s anime style in digital form more successfully than other digitally done series imo

BUTCH AND CASSIDY!!! Team Rocket centric episodes!!! Training Daze!!!!!!!

Idk how possible it would have been (seems like a TON of work) but it made me want one of these in between each season, where we'd follow the characters that Ash had just said goodbye to for the next region.

Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)

Series I grew up with! Honestly I was kinda a hater as a kid but having watched it back, I love the series

Love that Ash and Dawn were bros. They had a really fun dynamic.

Debatably peak Team Rocket. They had some of the best Team Rocket centric episodes this series.

Contests were really fun and a bit more figured out compared to the Advanced series

Fun, memorable rivals for Ash (Paul and Barry) as well as Dawn (Zoey, Kenny and Jessilina sometimes)

This is unfortunately where I stopped caring about Ash as much. He feels kinda watered down for the next couple series.

Advanced (S6-S9)

Pretty tied up with DP for me

Really fun series! Still had some of that early Pokémon charm

I appreciated that they put Ash in more of a mentor role for May (but he still had a lot to learn himself).

Ash and May constantly butting heads was really fun

May was a very compelling character to me, being very clumsy, kinda lazy, directionless, not really into Pokémon, etc. But then over time, she comes around and finds something she's interested in!

Journeys (S23-S25)

I love the episodic take as well as the way they let the characters jump around from region to region at random

Goh was a GREAT travel companion to Ash. They contrast each other nicely, have moments where they get on each others' nerves but still get along and have a mutual admiration for one another.

It was fun that they made Goh's thing catching every Pokémon (the motto of the entire series) so they could focus on Ash just training and prepping for Worlds.

Amaaaazing style. Took the great parts of classic Pokémon, roundness of SM and blended em together for a really fun look.

Black & White (S14-S16)

I don't think it's that controversial to have BW this low haha

I did enjoy Iris and Cilan but it felt like the writers didn't reaaally know what to do with them? Also this was their first time in a while not having Brock and it shows. I feel like Brock was successful because he was grounded and lower energy compared to the rest of the kids. Having 3 pretty eccentric characters is kind of a lot. No hate to the characters in the slightest, there was just not as much balance.

I think maybe they leaned on Cilan and Iris for more comedic relief because they killed the comedic relief that was Team Rocket this series. I appreciate them trying something new with Jessie, James and Meowth but I don't think it worked very well lol

XY (S17-S19)

I've ranted about this series a lot LOL. I get the appeal of it, but it just wasn't for me. I felt like it was the weakest comedy-wise and took itself a bit too seriously for my taste

My main gripe is that Serena, Clemont and Bonnie all like,,, worship Ash. By doing so, Ash begins to feel like a side character because we're constantly looking at Ash through their eyes. There's so little conflict within the group so their dynamics feel really flat. I think this dynamic could have worked if they leaned waaay more into Ash being a mentor and maybe feeling the pressure of having to be a role model for the people around him.

Team Rocket very much feels like an afterthought in this series. They did in Journeys as well, but at least in Journeys they were doing something silly and also had a handful of episodes dedicated to em.

Outside of that, the episodes weren't super memorable for me

I think it's just frustrating because there was sooooo much potential character-wise

[lisharchivez]

Hi! its me Fay

Personal archive for Chats or post replies or dialogue responses from our beloved Zayne/Li shen / Rei / Lee Seoeon from love and deep Space

and occasionally from Others as well

Its hard to keep on track since i do all these by myself

Feel free to help me out! I would be grateful!

guide

❄️Zayne ⭐Xavier 🐦‍⬛Sylus 🐚Rafayel

same cube coded ones are part of same occasions.

Archived chats so far

❄️Doctor's order

❄️Dry humor

❄️Key case

❄️Special dessert pt 1 pt 2

❄️Sophora

❄️Emoji trick

❄️Kitty Cards Bet

❄️waiting room

❄️new habit

❄️Magic and Miracle

❄️no sequel

❄️bouquet of ballpoint & pen(unfin)

❄️Masquerade ball

❄️Notes

❄️Tail tales

❄️Minty (mint meow badge)

❄️Examination report

❄️Aromatherapy

❄️Feed the Squirrel

❄️snowman's trip(plushie)

❄️A Vote

⚠️bonus

❄️Who keeps the mug[Event]

❄️Left on read

🐦‍⬛ Countdown reminder

🐦‍⬛ special reminders

❄️Wind Field Impact[GLINT PHOTOBOOTH]

🐦‍⬛Extreme Sports[GLINT PHOTOBOOTH]

🐦‍⬛Just a little Joke 2.0

🐦‍⬛Electronic pet

❄️Romance Advisor

❄️saying goodnight 💞66

❄️Flavor dare

🐦‍⬛Accordion

❄️Kaomoji

Emoji edition

Snowman laying down shaking head "NO" caption pt 1 pt 2

not listening

time for meds

Tea

....

Archived posts so far

Moments -

❄️the snow stopped

❄️Traffic jam

❄️Dusk or Dawn

❄️Cat's blessing

❄️Rabbit escaped

❄️it's fun and easy (first plushie)

❄️let's go home (3 plushie)

❄️angry mc obtained (No plushie)

❄️goodluck (1st SSR meow badge)

❄️has anyone seen my socks

❄️haggle through Language barrier

❄️Queueing [aff 62]

❄️Trial and error

❄️Diseased Mind

❄️Drink Plenty of water

❄️Stroll on the road

❄️surprise

❄️someone said we were only taking picture-

❄️Earbuds are broken[snapshot same pose]

❄️Reminders

❄️Philosophers[snapshot specific duo pose]

❄️I'm now accustomed to [snapshot follow up]

❄️Squirrel brought a friend[related to feed the squirrel chat]

❄️Power suddenly went out

❄️Medium rare

❄️Three notification for light meal

❄️Captchas aren't scientific

1️⃣Jenna,Tara,Greyson,Thomas pt1 pt2

❄️between the results of medical exam and theoretical exam-

🟪 🐦‍⬛tweak smile

🟪❄️learned a lot of weird trivia

🟪⭐the book from beginner to expert

🟪🐚time to graduate

🐦‍⬛just woke up

🐦‍⬛ sunset

🐦‍⬛ Ammo Box Grill

🐦‍⬛ Not a Tiger[aff 23]

❄️ Fun thing [aff 77]

🐦‍⬛Goblet [aff 31]

❄️ paper penguin [aff 58]

⭐holding hands can shock U

🐦‍⬛Auction[aff 27]

🐦‍⬛mechanical crow likes shiny things

❄️waiting at the concert

🐦‍⬛ MC's birthday - Sylus

🐦‍⬛ heatwave

❄️Mild myopia

🐦‍⬛lil S pet store

🐦‍⬛most fun part of kitty card

🐦‍⬛Crows aren't actually black

❄️ blankets power

❄️100% sugar latte to go

❄️ recent chat fills up Doctor patient joke collection

EVENT edition -

[ Twinkle.Co HeartworkRoutine]

Ready to row [Event chat]

After you get your first plushie at soul catcher [post]

🟠After you finish chapter 2 [posts]

After the rain

Parterre day trip[Rafayel]

Great for a relaxing run[Xavier]

Partner Go Go

Adventure Above Clouds

Moonlit Orchid Day

[zyhkoo]

little spark ☆ ー REGULUS BLACK X READER. chapter 2

fluff, angst, regulus reunites with you, friends to lovers, co-parents

synopsis: with james and lily dead and sirius’s false conviction. regulus had escaped the death eaters with harry in his arms. his last resort was go to you, his former best friend and james’s sister. mlist

a/n: regulus doesn’t know how babies work

a/n 2; i have revised this chapter! most lines were said by you when it should be clervie’s.. apologies for the mistake

It was the next day, Regulus had woken up quite late. It was ten in the morning, seems normal but in his routine he would usually get up at six in the morning. It had been a while since Regulus had slept in. He never allowed himself time, he was always too dedicated to his duty as a Death Eater.

There was always something to do, an order to follow and follow through with.

Well, it wouldn’t matter anymore. Here, he had some semblance of freedom. He didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn if he didn’t want to. He should enjoy his time while he has it. Regulus wasn’t a death eater anymore, he serves no one now so he could pretty much do almost anything he wanted.

Regulus fixed his hair and walked to the bathroom. He looked at the mirror, he looked like a mess. Regulus did not have new sets of clothes, he only brought things Harry needed.

Maybe he could shop clothes with you perhaps? Then again who’ll take care of Harry when the two of you are gone.. After he cleaned his face, he looked around to find you.

Regulus descended down the stairs “Y/N?” He called out your name, you weren't in the living room, nor in any other parts of the house. Then he saw the kitchen, a brunette girl was standing with a cooking pan on her left hand. She wore nice clothes and had a badge on her chest.

Regulus opened the door to the kitchen, hoping to see if you were there.

The brunette was alerted, she faced a frying pan towards him. I mean, how could Regulus blame her? He had baggy dirty clothes, and his hair was a bird's nest. He looked like an intruder.

“Who are you? You’re not a staff member, what are you doing in the kitchen?!” she exclaimed, Regulus was flabbergasted.

He did not like being accused without having a chance to speak.

“Wait wait, hold on, I’m Y/N’s friend-“ Regulus raised his hands in defense, his eyes widening as the girl immediately turned on him. He was immediately put off guard by such hostility, his lips parted as he tried to think of how to handle this situation.

“How do you know Y/N?!?”

You opened the door immediately “Wait! Clervie, hold on, this is my friend!”

He was saved from any of the girl’s further attacks by your arrival, who immediately came to his defense. Ah, so this was the ‘Clervie’ you had mentioned yesterday.

‘Clervie’ raised her brow “Y/N, did you take a stray dog in?” she insulted, giving him a stink eye. A stray dog? Is she for real?

Regulus bristled slightly at the remark, his eyes widening briefly as he folded his arms across his chest. “A stray dog?” he repeated, clearly offended by her remark.

“No, Clervie. He’s my friend, we used to go to school together.” you tried to explain.

She cleared her throat, “Regulus, Clervie Charton. Clervie, Regulus Black.” you introduced the two of them.

Regulus forced himself to calm himself, he didn’t need to start a fight with your friend already.

He inhaled slowly, offering his hand out to Clervie to shake. “It’s a ‘pleasure’ to meet you, Miss Charton..” he greeted between clenched teeth, clearly strained in the way he spoke.

Clervie furrowed her brows, not wanting to shake his hand back. “Did you wash your paw?” she mocked. Regulus’ eye twitched as you raised a brow, his stare hardening as he inhaled slowly. “I beg your pardon?” he asked quietly, his tone dark.

He wasn’t some kind of animal, did he really look like a stray dog in dirty clothes?

“Oh, come on Clervie he doesn’t look that bad.” you said. Clervie crossed his arms and took a good look at him “I guess if he got rid of that horrid outfit he’d look fine.” you huffed.

Regulus resisted the intense urge he had to say something nasty back to Clervie, his jaw hardening as he inhaled slowly. His outfit was fine and he wasn’t interested in fashion, so he didn’t appreciate her remark.

“Right, I get it. You have better clothes.” he murmured quietly, tilting his head slightly so he could better glare at her.

Clervie turned to you “Why is he in your house?” she asked, she looked quite suspicious. You sighed placing your hand on the table and explained everything.

Regulus simply stood to the side quietly as you explained the situation. He didn’t want to jump in on the conversation, in all honesty he didn’t want to be involved in this interaction. He had no interest in meeting new people, he already knew he didn’t like this woman. She was far too judgemental for his liking.

“Oh.. I see..” Clervie said softly “That sounds horrible, apologies for treating you that way Black.” she said, although there was still sass in her tone.

Regulus inhaled quietly, his shoulders dropping slightly. Did she actually feel sorry for him? Or did she truly mean the apology? He studied her carefully before responding. “It’s fine, Miss Charton. I don’t believe I made the best first impression, anyway.”

You smiled “Okay okay, Reg let's talk inside.” you gestured for him to get out of the kitchen.

Regulus nodded silently in response to your gesture, turning on his heel as he slowly walked into the hallway.

“I’ll talk to you later, Clervie.” you waved goodbye to your friend.

He inhaled slowly, turning to look at you once they were out of earshot from Clervie. “Your.. friend is..” He paused, searching for the right words to say without offending you. ‘Interesting’ was the right word, but he could tell that wouldn’t help his case any.

“I know, sorry. you get riled up when you see someone with clothes that aren’t for her taste.” you sighed, closing the door. “I joked that she should become a fashion designer instead of a restaurant owner.” you chuckled.

Regulus inhaled as he listened to you speak. So his clothes were the cause of your distaste towards him? He didn’t care too much for fashion, he much preferred comfort over style. Although he had to admit.. maybe it was time for him to change his wardrobe. He hadn’t done so in years, really. All he wore was green or black.

He forced a slight smile. “Would she be offended if I told you I have no interest in fashion whatsoever?” He murmured, tilting his head slightly.

“Oh very.” you grimaced, shaking your head. “But once you get to know her, she’s very kind and generous. She’s been at my back when I bought this house.” Regulus hummed quietly, looking away from you as he considered you words.

She seemed like an interesting character, but was he truly up to getting to know someone new? He wasn’t too good at introducing himself to new people anymore. But if Clervie was as kind as you claimed, he supposed he could be willing to try

“I suppose I could be more open to interacting with her.. and other people.” He murmured, a quiet sigh escaping under his breath.

“Then I’ll be here to support you.” you reassured him, Regulus slowly relaxed as you reassured him, his features softening slightly. You took out a tea set and placed it on the table.

“Let’s have some tea, I have some macaroons too.” you gestured to him to sit down beside you.

He gave a single nod of acknowledgement, carefully sitting down beside you. “That would be appreciated.” He murmured. “Tea and macaroons, quite British.” He noted with a quiet huff. You playfully rolled your eyes. “My bad, I’ll prepare something more French this time.”

Regulus resisted the urge to roll his eyes in response to your playful gesture. “That would be greatly appreciated.” He joked softly, shifting in his seat so he was more comfortable.

“Although, I don’t mind the macaroons.” He murmured, tilting his head slightly. “So long as I’m getting food, I don’t mind what you prepare.” He added.

“Hold that thought. Aren’t Macaroons Italian though?”

Regulus paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the table as he considered your question. Were they Italian? He genuinely wasn’t sure. “Oh, are they..?” He inhaled quietly, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “That is correct..” He murmured, lifting his gaze to look at you. He could feel his cheeks heating slightly, it’s been a while since he’s had a conversation like this.

“I suppose you got me there..” he continued “You outsmarted me.”

“Me? Outsmart a Slytherin prefect? Wow, I must be smart.” you chuckled, sipping your tea. Regulus rolled his eyes, although there was affection in his gesture. He felt like he was in the past for a moment, he could remember you would always tease him whenever you got the chance. Regulus was always the smart one of the two, yet you was catching him off guard with these comments.. “Yes, yes laugh it up..” He murmured, picking up his own tea to take a sip.

“Reminds me.. I’ve already fed Harry. He woke me up at about.. six In the morning because he was hungry.” you said.

Regulus sighed, he didn’t mean to sleep in that late. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a good night’s sleep. The lack of responsibilities and freedom was throwing him off. He hadn’t expected Harry to wake up so early either.. is that how infants worked?

Regulus inhaled quietly. “Ah, right. I’m sorry I wasn’t awake to provide for him myself..” He murmured, lifting his gaze from his tea to look at you.

You shook your head “No, it’s quite alright. He’s our responsibility after all, right?”

His shoulders dropped slightly as you reassured him, Regulus’s features softening ever so slightly. He was quite used to taking the brunt of responsibility, he didn’t like to be dependent on other people.

“Right..” He murmured. “I will try to be more available to help moving forward.. I just need to adjust. I’m.. not used to this.” He murmured, gesturing vaguely before folding his arms across his chest. “Reg.” you called out his name “We’re both in this, we will both take good care of Harry.” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Regulus’ shoulders stiffened slightly, inhaling as he considered you words. He wasn’t used to being ‘equal’ to anyone, his whole life had always been a competition. He should be the one taking point, not you.

He inhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. This was Y/N, you probably know more about this situation than he did. He had to trust you.

“Right. You’re right. We’re co-parents in this.”

Before you could say anything, a loud cry was heard upstairs. “Looks like he’s awake.” you placed you teacup down and walked upstairs. Regulus frowned slightly as he heard Harry’s loud cry from upstairs. He put his teacup down, carefully standing from his seat to follow after you.

“You said you already fed him.. he shouldn’t be crying like that.” Regulus noted with a frown as he followed after Vennete, trailing after you as he slowly ascended the stairs.

Regulus nodded silently in response to you words, continuing to follow after you as they approached Harry’s room. He hoped he wasn’t the cause of Harry’s distress..

“Could be.. but what could he possibly want?” He asked quietly, tilting his head slightly as he walked into the room behind you.

“I'm sure, or.. maybe not.” you opened the door and carried the boy. “Shh, there there...” you cradled small baby Harry in your arms but he wont stop crying.

Regulus’ brow furrowed as you tried to soothe Harry, shifting uncomfortably where he was standing. He didn’t understand why the boy was crying like this.

“Maybe he wants Uncle Regulus?” you looked at him.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise as you looked at him. You were joking, right? Why would Harry want him??

“..Why would he want me?” He asked quietly, looking more offended than anything.

“Just try it.” You gave Harry to his arms. Regulus’ eyes widened ever so slightly in bewilderment as you placed Harry in his arms. He had only met the boy for a while. How on earth was he going to soothe him?

Regulus hummed and cradled the boy in his arms. But to his surprise, Harry did quiet down quite quickly. Regulus inhaled quietly, carefully rocking Harry as he took a few steps away from you.

“..I can’t believe he stopped crying.” He murmured incredulously. “Aw, he quite likes you Reggie.” you peeked to look at Harry.

Regulus resisted the urge he had to roll his eyes as you referred to him using a nickname. you knew he had a particular aversion to nicknames, you just liked annoying him. He inhaled, his stare softening as he looked down at Harry. You were right though.. Harry did seem to calm down whenever he held him.

“This is.. strange..” He murmured quietly. Regulus never considered himself good with children.

“How does it feel like being the best uncle?” you joked.

Regulus rolled his eyes in response to your words, shaking his head slightly. He had a feeling jokes like this were going to be a prominent thing for you from now on.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” He murmured quietly, carefully shifting Harry in his arms. “Just because he likes this one time doesn’t mean he’ll like me later.”

“I doubt.” you replied “I’m sure he’ll love you.”

Regulus inhaled quietly, tilting his head slightly as he considered you words. He hoped you were right, he didn’t exactly have the best track record with children. Especially young infants..

“I suppose only time will tell.” Regulus said, looking at the boy in his arms. He quite liked this life.

[slickchickchocolatier]

Robin Hood - One Shot

One shot i started while i was on the family trip. Kind of thought of it during breakfast and liked the idea, so I drafted it and finally got around to finishing it. ;)

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Smut...lots of descriptive smut. Hostage intake, thief/robberies, held at knife point, cursing's, philandering, maltreatment, hints of domestic abuse.....i think that's it.

Smirking as he processes the article, Heeseung tosses the newspaper aside and sets his sights on the magazine that he picked up earlier. Eyes gliding over the cover, the working of his mind maps out the details and operation of his next target.

“Forbes 2023 Most Successful Business of the year, NIA Hotel”

…………………….

Dawning his attire, he laces his black combat boots and manages the fit of his all-black ensemble. Glancing off to the side, the handsome young man places on his black cap, the ‘tip of the spear’ that finishes his look, along with a black mask that covered his nose and mouth, leaving on his eyes to remain partially exposed.  Time to go to work.

NIA hotel had the largest revenue in the world, and how convenient that the main hotel building in this city, would contain high valued items on the top floor. It was the largest hotel building in the world with over fifty stories of rooms that carried only the prestigious guests or people with serious money. The owner of the hotel personally had lived in the fiftieth level, along with valuable assets hidden in a safe.

For weeks, Heeseung had calculated his moment to strike as he had spent his months portraying as a staff member of the hotel, sneaking in and stealing their attire and badges, gaining access to the very top floor as he scouted the details of his plan. Getting passed the guards was easy, finding the hidden safe was even easier.

Exiting his rather lavish suite, being the world’s top thief had it’s perks. Even when he disbursed his little ‘gifts’ to the desolate communities, the valued amount of his steal was more than enough for him to retire at such a young age, yet he found life to be more interesting while living in sin.

Living on the top floor himself, Heeseung couldn’t possibly blow his cover by taking the main entrance and exiting through the heavily guarded lobby. So, he opts to exit out of the window, all the way down from twenty stories up. With zip lining wire, wheeled in a small spindle-gun, he takes aim and shoots out at a street light. Once the puncturing arrow had pierced the post, releasing the quick dry cement foam that set the tip in place, he hooked a shoulder strap to the cable, securing his swift travel down and across from his penthouse. Reaching the post, he propels a soft stop by swinging his feet up just before meeting with the post. With the sharp and jagged cleats on the bottom of his footwear, and the handheld spikes at the hilt of his belt, he climbs down the post until he meets the ground safely, and just in time as Jake pulls up in a black van, carrying the additional passengers that all took part of tonights event.

“Pick up service!” Sunghoon chuckles out as he opens the door. Smirking, as evident by his slightly squinted eyes, Heeseung walks up and enters the van, with his deep chuckle heard faintly behind his mask, he takes Sunghoon's hand as the latter pulls Heeseung up and inside the vehicle before sliding the door shut.

“Hey bro, looking good.” Jay remarks as he types away on his laptop. All seven crew members had their part in ensuring that each night, one such as this, went smoothly as they reduced the chances of capture. Through the process of elimination, the group became operationally steady as each member took on their respective roles, making each gig, a success.

Jay was the expert subject matter on computer technology and came from a family of money, so naturally he was able to equip himself with the highest technology products in the industry that included 3D printing, code crypting, hacking, and information intelligence. Sunoo was in charge of the costumes and outfits, creating and organizing the lavish attire for each time they scouted their targets. Jungwon was their communications guru, able to manipulate, splice, and alter wires within any radio system. Niki covered everything in regards to security, and spent the weeks leading to tonight portraying as a member of the hotel’s security staff, gaining access to all the hot spots of the multiple camera angles and motion of direction. Along with Heeseung, he would be the only other member to remain inside the building as he staged himself inside the security post, manipulating the camera systems and quietly detaining the staff members to avoid interruptions.

Jake spent his earlier days racing cars as a hobby, knowing how to move a car effortlessly and memorizing the most discreet pathways of the city, he mapped out their routes and plotted the additional rendezvous points. Sunghoon was the only one among the group that had military experience, having served three years right after high school. The man was notorious in taking apart every piece of equipment and device used in military weaponry and combat stealth, leading him to borrow the ideas from the strategic design and replicating them with the aid of his fellow military connections. Heeseung was the one who would bring home the goods. Being nearly as tall and flexible as Niki, but having the stealth and charm to play his way through contacts, not to mention being gifted with the rare ability of determining pitch of sound, Heeseung could decode any safe just merely by the sound of their clicks. Together, all seven men had spent years effortlessly gaining millions in net worth, all in a single night.

As Jake steered the van through his mapped route, Jay instructs Heeseung as he issues him the pin code to the safe.

“I hacked into the manufactures system, the owner of the hotel uses a company called iSafe.”

Heeseung smirks as he configures his watch. “iSafe? Is that some sort of ripoff from the apple product?”

“Not a rip off, it IS Apple. Its not widely promoted by the company since they are exclusive and remain affordable through word of mouth only. The techs that run the Apple products designed the key pad. I hacked into their systems and found his code, it’s the numbers of his girlfriend’s initials.”

“Girlfriend huh? Wonder if the wife knows about that.”

“Worse, the wife not only knows about it, she has to accept it since there’s no prenup and her family is against divorce. If she decides to leave him, she’ll get nothing. Plus it doesn’t help that it was an arranged marriage set up by her own father.”

“Ouch.” Heeseung remarks. Merely issuing as he clicks in the coordinates on his watch while Niki texts it by phone.  

“Yeah, I dipped into this dude’s background. He’s honestly a scumbag, it looks like their whole marriage has been a complete shit show. Man also has a type and it’s definitely..….well….here.”

Displaying a stilled image, Jay reflects the face of an attractive yet heavily altered woman. It was clearly evident that she had plastic surgery, yet that didn’t necessarily turn Heeseung off….not until....

“I’d still tap it.” Heeseung chuckles out.

“Well watch this video first....then tell me how you really feel.” Hitting play, Jay plays out a recording of the pair during their sexual encounter, the woman’s face was filled with so much botox, she displayed absolutely no inflection in her expression, yet her mouth, remained just barely parted, admitted the most pitiful sounding moans the entire crew has ever heard. Laughing at her expense, each member issued a look of confusion as they all compared the sound to farm animals.

“What the fuck? Is that a cow?” Sunghoon inquires as he listens in on the video.

Smirking, Heeseung asks Jay how in the world he acquired the recording.

“He saves all the footage from his hidden cameras in his laptop, I saw that shit and had to see it myself.” Jay laughs out.

Getting a good laugh at the woman’s pathetic expression…or lack thereof, Jake chimes in as he issues out the estimated time of arrival.

“Heeseung, you got 10 minutes.”

Clicking in the last of the coordinates, Heeseung nodded as he shifts his gaze up, and gets into position near the door. Sunghoon grabs onto the handle as he pats on Heeseungs back.

“Be safe. You know where the alternative meet up point is should anything goes wrong?”

Nodding, Heeseung reassures the information as Sunghoon confirms.

“2 minutes.” Jake issues.

Counting down, Heeseung crouches as he braces for impact. With Sunghoon staging by the door, Jake counts off the remaining five seconds as he glides and maneuvers the vehicle towards the curbed edge of the unidentifiable spot.

“5…..4…..3…..2….1! Now!” Jake states as the wheels begin to slightly screech and he purposely planes the vehicle to its side in a rotated motion. Sunghoon pulls the door wide as Heeseung leaps out and softly lands on solid ground as the van never stops moving. Continuously making its way out of the scene and heading to the vantage point, the crew quickly drives away, leaving to swap out the vehicle and stage it nearby the hotel, within communication range.

Leaving no sound to trace or alert anyone of his landing, Heeseung swiftly rolled into the shadows and remained hidden as he maneuvered his way towards the back of the building. Narrowed in an alleyway, Heeseung used the first set of coordinates and located the massive HVAC unit by finding the large vent on the side of the building. Using one of the many toys Sunghoon had given him, he used a multi-tool to unscrew the vent, while Niki controlled the angle of the security camera by gliding the rollover mouse and deterring its line of sight away from Heeseung.

“Okay you’re out of sight. Do your thing Heeseung.” Niki calmly sounds off with a deep voice, all the while the real security staff remained knocked out from the chloroform gas bomb he set off just moments before entering in with a gas mask. Some more goodies that Sunghoon had acquired through his military connections.

Nodding to himself upon hearing Niki’s voice through the bud earpiece, Heeseung finishes up with detaching the vent. Gliding into the duct. It was large enough for him to crawl and move around as he made his way inside the HVAC room, located in the basement.

“I’m in.” Heeseung communicates as he detaches the second vent and enters the room.

Locating the main vent that led to the main air duct, providing majority of the building's airflow, Heeseung detached it from the wall as he did with the other two, and began crawling through the aluminum crevice as he reads the second set of coordinates. Gliding through, he reaches his second destination as he kicks out the vent from the inside.

“Niki am I good?” Heeseung radio’s in.

Locking the elevators internally by setting the magnetic locking feature, Niki leaves all but one elevator stagnant. Looking into the cameras, he ensures the elevator was not in use. Once confirmed, Niki clears Heeseung, to which the latter listens in as he waits for his que.

“Coming up in 3…..2……1…” Niki calmly counts down as Heeseung hears in for the rising of the elevator, which Niki controlled as he operated the feature from the security room. Heeseung waits for the perfect timing as the elevator box rises up. Taking out a small handle, staging it near the roof of the aluminum duct, he presses the button and the handle extends into a pull up bar, securing itself between the two walls with its suction tipped ends. Sliding underneath the bar, feet first, he hangs himself out from the opening as he grips firmly on the extended piece. Looking down, he waits until the roof of the elevator was within his sight, nearly ten feet away before he releases his grip and softly lands on top, riding the box all the up to the top floor.

Looking at the numbers assigned to each vent, reflecting the floor level, Heeseung iterated the numbers to Niki as he continued to control the elevator through the systems automatic feature.

“Coming up on the fiftieth floor.” Niki remarks. As the elevator box reached the top, Niki pauses the motorized mechanism by halting the elevator through its emergency stop feature, ultimately allowing Heeseung to detach the vent and crawl through the top floor within the main duct line.

“Thanks for the lift.” Heeseung chuckles out through the communication piece, a small speaker pin that he attached to his collar.

Crawling through, going off the third coordinates, Heeseung pauses as he reaches the location of a side vent.

“Just reached third coordinates……am I good?”

Carefully scanning through the hidden cameras of the large presidential suite, the entire fiftieth floor, Niki ensures that all was clear on his end.

“All is clear here. Jay?”

Chiming in, Jay radios in an affirmative as he manipulates a military drone that Sunghoon acquired, having firm access of the hotel owner and his girlfriend enjoying their night out as they grab dinner and prepare to take a flight out, while the wife had remained on vacation.

“You’re good Heeseung.”

Kicking out the vent, Heeseung slides out and scans the immediate area. Inside the dining area, the lights had all remained off as the occupants were out and away.

“Too easy….” Heeseung smirks as he quietly makes his way towards the master bedroom. The entire floor level was larger than most foundational houses, it had a cathedral type ceiling and an expanded open floor plan. Not to mention the furnishings and luxury antique paintings that all hung delicately on the French styled panels that decorated the walls.

“Which painting was it again Niki?” Heeseung radios in.

“It’s going to be the one of Mona Lisa.”

“THE Mona Lisa painting?” Heeseung issues as he was stunned by Niki’s response.

“Not the actual, but it is a genuine replica, and its much larger. It still costed him a pretty penny, I think Jay said he paid over 10 million for it. He hired a bunch of artists to trace and reflect every exact curve and brush stroke as the original.”

“The man has money…..good thing I’m about to take it, his girlfriend could use a break from all those surgeries…any more silicone and she might pop.” Heeseung jokes as he reaches the replica portrait.

“Hey lady, you here alone?” Heeseung quietly speaks as he admires the large portrait.

Tracing the edges of the frame, he feels for the specific feature behind the painting’s main creation. Upon feeling the nub, he presses in and hears in on the clicking sound of the frame detaching from the locking mechanism, gently swinging open as Heeseung reveals the hidden key pad that Jay had fore-mentioned, completely flushed with the wall.

Entering the code, the wall slides open within a framed compartment, revealing the top notch safe that contained an elaborate dial. Just as he was about to get to work, Niki chimes in on the radio.

“Heeseung, get out of sight, someones coming.”

“Shit….” Whispering as he curses himself, Heeseung quickly migrates over into the master closet, which alone, was larger than his own penthouse. Taking refuge within one of the mirrored hanging cabinets, he stands in quietly. Rushing out of the open area, the frame quietly swings open once more as he wasn't able to fully secure it in time.

“Who the fuck came up?” Jay radios in.

“Not sure, it looks like the owner had additional security members a few floor levels down…must be a new security feature because that wasn’t set before. But this guy had to have used the ladder well and gone directly up while I was tracking Heeseung’s movements and operating the stand-alone elevator.” Niki explains, calmly tracking the security guard as he conducts his hourly night rove, as prescribe by the head of security and checks the entire main floor level.

“Heeseung you good?” Jay inquires.

“Yeah I’m good…just hiding out.”

“Stay put, I’ll let you know when it’s clear.” Niki reassures as he uses the security cameras that covered the entire floor level, all but the master suite and bathrooms.

Watching as the security guard did his roves, Niki cursed himself the moment he watches the guard taking notice of the painting swung open.

“He saw the painting. Heeseung stay hidden.” Niki radios in.

“Fuck, we gotta go.” Jay issues. “Heeseung stay put, this place is about to be swarmed with cops, we’ll let you know when all is clear right before they come through. Niki, you need to get out of there man.”

“Already moving. Where are you guys staged?”

“A few blocks away, we’ll swoop by and pick you up at Main street, three buildings down from the hotel. Heeseung where are you right now?”

“I’m inside one of the clothing cabinets inside the main closet.”

Instructing Heeseung, Jay continues to elaborate the alternative plan.

“Alright, stay there. Once we get Niki, you’ll have about 10 minutes before the cops show up and reach the top floor, also the owner has been informed, so we’ll have to swoop by and get you fast before he comes back. Can you get down in five?

“Yeah.”

“Okay, meet us at the same spot. We gonna have to kill all comms in order for the radio waves and frequency to be left untraceable. Don’t discard the pieces, just crush it and bring all the components back with you.”

“Got it.”

Ending the communication, Heeseung takes both, the ear piece and the speaker pin, drops it on the floor and stomps it with his boots, before stuffing the evidence in his cargo pocket. Exiting out of the master closet, ensuring that the security guard that blew their cover had already left, Heeseung began making his way out and back to the vent, where he would start migrating to the ladder well and quickly make his way out before the entire building goes on lock down. With just four minutes left, he rushes out and makes his way through the narrow corridor and takes a sharp turn around the corner, where he bumped into you.

Gasping as you felt the rush of hard muscle bashing into you, all the while a pair of strong hands simultaneously reaches up and pins your arms to your sides, Heeseung was just as shocked as you were the moment he felt himself bumping into your body. With the lights remaining off, he quickly reacts without investigating on who exactly he ran into. Turning you around, he pulls you back into his chest as he raises a sharp blade up to your neck and pulls you away and back into the master suite.

“Not one fucking sound. Nod at me.” With his other hand covering your mouth, his deep tone was fierce and forceful, yet calm…too calm, considering he was trapped on the top floor. But, the man was a professional, so it was only natural for him be composed. Nodding as he bids you to do, he continued to drag you back over toward the master bedroom and locks the door.

Your phone began ringing the moment you both entered the master suite, reflecting your husband’s number, which came in as an unfamiliar contact since you never bothered saving it. Initially, you were fond and very much in love with your husband, finding him to be both handsome and kind. But the moment the ceremony of the wedding had ended, he revealed his act and exposed his displeasing nature as a man with absolutely no value or respect for anyone other than himself. He was narcissistic, materialistic, and a philanderer. You grew to despise everything about him, so much, that you had refused to save any part of him in your life, to include his own cell number.

“Whose that?” Heeseung asks, still unable to see your face as all the lights remained off.

“M…my husband….”

“Husband?”

“Yes…..he’s the owner of this hotel….” You softly spoke out.

“You’re….his wife?.....I thought you were on vacation?”

Somewhat shocked at knowing about your whereabouts, you calmly elaborated as you admitted to secretly arriving back home sooner than expected.

“I…I was…..but I had to come back to….to pick up my divorce papers….” You calmly stated, saddened as the emotions of losing connections with your family was produced from this divorce. It was the only reason why you were hesitant, but you couldn’t take it anymore. As much as you wanted to remain connected with them, you only had one life to live, and you couldn’t possibly see yourself living in a lonely state with a husband that you hated, much less hating you back.

Meanwhile, Heeseung cursed himself as he continued to pin the blade to your skin.

“Answer it. Do anything stupid and I’ll slit your throat, so be a smart girl.” Heeseung instructs. You nod as you answered the call.

“Hello?.....”

“Why did you turn the security members away?”

“I…..just got in....i'm too tired and want to get some sleep……so I told them to come back tomorrow.”

“You dumb bitch, someone just broke in. Are you seriously not going to let the security members investigate the house? just wait till i get there, i'll slap you smart.”

Pausing, you quietly and calmly continued to reassure your husband that all was well…..which turned out favorably for Heeseung.

“There’s….no one here. I already checked and nobody took anything……”

“The team said someone tried to break into the safe.”

“yes but…..they had left before they could open it……i'm going to be here....i'll stay awake for a while and keep an eye on it…….but I’m too tired to deal with your security team……they can come back tomorrow.”

“so you’re sleeping there tonight? That’s a change.”

“Well……I figured since your secretary said you were going to be taking a flight to the Caribbean tonight, the house was going to be empty….for once.”

“Huh..sneaky. Well, since you’re there, I guess I don’t have to head back. We’re turning around and going back to the airport but if you see anyone, call security and text me.”

Gulping out of irritation, you calmly reassured him. “Yeah…..i got it.”

“Good little watch doggie. Be good and watch the house while we’re out oh, and Denise says hi.”

In the background, your husbands girlfriend could be heard as she teases a long “Hiiiiiiiii y/n.” as he places the phone on speaker. Heeseung furrowed his brows in annoyance at the total scummy attitude that the man displayed towards you. Despite whatever problems you both had in the marriage, there wasn’t any real reason he could see that would justify the man’s treatment towards you.

“Please polish all my jewelry while we’re gone, I would appreciate it!” Denise states. Both her and your husband continue to taunt you as it became evident that Denise had been living in your house, with your husband, as you had taken up on living in one of the other rooms in the hotel to create some diversion from the ugly pair. If it wasn’t one of the rooms within the forty-nine remaining floors, it was elsewhere in the city or lodging on whatever part of the world you could get away to. So long as you didn’t have to remain beside them.

“by the way, I heard you picked up divorce papers. You really going through with it?” your husband mocks out curiously.

“Yes…”

“Does daddy disapprove? Did he disown you yet? Does he even know?”

You stayed silent as you tried to alter the conversation to its end.

“Just sign it once you get back and I’ll have my things moved out in the meantime.”

“Good riddance, Denise needs more closet space, she says she’s tired of sharing everything with you. Anyhow, you sure nobody got into my safe?”

“yeah…..”

“Take a photo and send it to me. We’re pulling up at the airport right now, so send it within the next ten minutes before we take off, I don’t intend to keep my phone on while we’re up in the air.”

“Okay…..”

Hanging up and ending the call, your husband seemed to be reassured that all was well at the house, more so now that you were home.

“give me your phone.” Heeseung calmly instructs. Doing so, he takes it and drags you towards the safe. Handing it back to you, he tells you to take the photo and send it immediately. You did as he instructed, before handing it back to him as he extends his hand to look over the text.

“Why the fuck did you marry him? Dude is an asshole.”

“……I didn’t really have a choice…..”

Remaining calm and stoic, reflecting your deepest state of unhappiness, you continued to converse with the young man in the dark, not at all knowing what you both looked like. Suddenly, helicopters from afar could be heard making their way over towards the hotel.

“Shit, come here.” Taking you by the arm, he drags you back into the master bedroom, where all the lights remained off and the curtains closed. Taking you into the corner, he pins you back to his chest with his blade remaining close to your neck, all the while he peaked in through a tiny gap between the curtains and looked over the entire area. Taking your phone, he dials in and contacts Jay.

Answering, Jay figured that it was Heeseung as the number came in unrecognizable, yet he recalled seeing it when he hacked and viewed your, and your husband’s profiles. Piecing everything together, Jay figured Heeseung must have made contact with you upon seeing your number.

“Bro, where are you?”

“I’m still on the top floor…..wife came back early.”

“Yeah I figured…I sort of recognized the number. Are you good?”

“Yeah I am, but cops are everywhere and so are the helo’s….”

“Yeah we see them. You’re going to have to stay put. Did she call security?”

“Nah, and it ooks like they wont be coming up. Husband also is….appeased….knowing that his money is safe.”

“Yeah, I was tracing him through the drone, looks like he ended up going to the airport after all. But you’ll have a solid two hours before you can come out. They’re going to do a thorough rendezvous search around the perimeter of the building, and then slowly expand out throughout the city. We’re heading out but we’ll come back to get you, in the meantime, stay there and don’t come out until we call. You gonna have her phone on you?”

“yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Okay, hang tight, we got some time so chill out for a bit.”

“Yeah sure….” Heeseung mocked out as he slightly rolled his eyes while Jay chuckled.

“You’ll be fine man, trust me. Just don’t leave until I call.”

At that, both ended the phone conversation while Heeseung remained vigilant in scouting the area outside as he held you hostage. With the lights peering into the bedroom windows, he could vaguely make out your hair and the tip of your nose from you side profile as your locks framed your face delicately. He was too focused on what was going on outside, he didn’t take any notice of your dress, which was styled as a wrap, similar to that of a robe with a belted sash that held it in place. It began to come loose and slip off. The tie from the satin material was far too delicate for it to remain in place with how you were being pulled, moved, and pushed around as Heeseung shifted positions, dragging you along as he continued to study the movements and routes of each helicopter, plus the cop cars that all remained staged around the entire hotel.

You wanted to say something but feared of speaking as the grip of his hand tightened over your mouth. Slowly as the seconds went by, and each time Heeseung shifted and moved from one window to another, your dress came undone, slipping off your shoulders and collecting at the bend of your elbows while the sleeves coiled up and the entire body of it draped over your derriere, exposing your body. With only a pair of panties on, you slightly whimpered as you felt yourself become completely exposed.  

Hearing your voice, he takes a glance down, initially confused as to why he felt your back shiver, when he noticed your dress removed. With your hands pinned on your sides, he made out the fabric thorough the harsh lighting that peeked in from the windows, and noticed the slinkiness of the material, causing him to piece together on just how you ended up becoming nearly naked in front of him.

With the intent on letting you fix yourself, he was just a split second away from instructing you to dress yourself, when you shifted your head inward, facing in his direction as you felt it hard to breathe since his large hand was not only covering your mouth, but his fingers were blocking the airway of your nostrils as well. Taking in your movement, he caught sight of your face and was essentially stunned….so much that he hadn’t immediately realized that you were barely getting any oxygen, which had caused you to admit another whimper as you furrowed your brows together, squinting your eyes shut and shifting your face upwards, where Heeseung gained a better view of it in the lighting, all the while you lifted a hand and placed it on top of his. Finally realizing that you were struggling for air, his eyes widened as he noted his hand blocked our nostrils and mouth. Quickly removing it, you harshly gasped as you shifted your face back to center and your chest raised up high as you took in a deep breath once you felt air traveling back through to your lungs.

Watching as you regained your breath, Heeseung had quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, supporting your body as you felt lightheaded and went limp from the rush of air hitting you. Slightly bent at the hip, your body shakes as your hair drapes over while your head hangs low, leaving your entire back exposed and your rear pressed up against his groin. You were far too beautiful to be treated in such a manner as he witnessed earlier, how could anyone treat someone like you like trash? You were so lovely in the face, and built with such gorgeous feminine attributes, you were the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen.

“Why in the fuck is he hitting up that blow up doll when he’s got her….?”

Perplexed at how any man could be married to someone as other worldly as you, and yet choose someone who was highly altered with a synthetic face, Heeseung couldn’t believe how foolish your husband was.

“Is he fucking blind?......Does he not like real women?.....”

Continuing on with his pensive thought, you finally gained composure as you stood upright, brushing your hair back as you steadied yourself.

Grabbing on to you, his black leathered, fingerless gloves was all you could feel against your bare waist, with your hair draped over your shoulder and dangling against your breasts, you remained perfectly still as he held you tightly against his body. Your back felt as if it was melting against his chest, and while his grip was strong, his breathing was calm and soft.

His nose touches your cheek as you felt his lips tap against your helix when he spoke in a low growling tone.

“Look at me…”

Hesitant….you remained still as you felt a wave of fear hit you. But the moment he tugged on your waist harshly, he reiterates his demand. “I said……look at me….”

Doing as he bids, you shut your eyes gently as you slowly turned your face to look over to him. Slowly opening, you make eye contact and for the first time tonight, you saw his face. He had a slightly sharp nose with high cheekbones, along with wide eyes and cupid bowed lips; his facial features were somewhat defined and matured, yet reflected a certain softness and youth to their expression. Gazing into your eyes, he lost himself as he whispered out….

“Fuck……”

Resting his chin on top of your shoulder, his body relaxes and alleviates the pressure of the blade from your neck, allowing you to breathe a little easier. Yet it was too soon for you to take in any comfort from his demeanor since  he began to scrape the smooth edge of the blade against your skin, moving it up and down along the center of your throat.  Calmly, he speaks as the tip of his nose brushes against your cheek, with his chin remained resting on the nook of your shoulder.

“……look at me some more.”

You shifted your eyes and locked your vision with his black iris, despite being hidden under the bill of his black cap, you could tell that his eyes were so black, that it lacked any natural luster as they were voided of any shine and remained matte in its bold and dark color, resembling coal. Yet you were surprised, he was quite handsome, and his deep voice had paired his features nicely.

Collapsing the pocket-knife and shoving it inside his cargo pocket, he remained staring as he fully embraced you by the waist, and pulled you in.

“you can relax. I’m not going to hurt you….wasn’t ever going to.”

Breathing steadily, you gave a slight nod as you tried to create just a tad bit of distance between your pressed bodies, yet the moment you took a tiny half step forward, you felt his grasp pull you closer than ever. Whimpering out a soft moan, you shuttered as he rubbed his nose and took in a large, inhaled scent of your perfume.

Groaning upon feeling your body pressed up to his groin, even he couldn’t make sense out of his actions, he was just acting out of what felt right………and you felt more than right. You felt perfect.

Whimpering once more, you shifted slightly as you tried to cover your chest once you had felt one of his hands trailing up to your breasts. Turning your face away, he didn’t stop moving even upon seeing you shy away and trying to cover yourself, instead, he merely shushed you by pressing his lips against your ear.

“Shhhh…..its okay baby…….”

Hearing his soft voice melted you, and you felt your body sink into his while your chest heaved deeply as you started to lose control of your breathing.

“…..how long has it been…..since hubs touched you?” he asks, as he cupped your breast and admitted a slight squeeze while his nose dragged upward near the tip of your ear, resting right above the helix. With a small peck, his lips tap against your ear, causing you to become more unsteady as you felt the knot forming in your gut….something you hadn’t felt for far too long.

“I……mm……it was only once…..after our wedding ….” You mumbled out softly, your tone sounded angelic to him. It was similar to that of a wind chime, with gentle tones of high pitch.

Squeezing both of your breasts, his tongue traces the lining of your ear. The sensation was so good, you hadn’t entirely meant to moan and tilt your head off to the side, giving him more access, yet you couldn’t help it. Reaching behind, you planted your palms on his thighs and tried once more to push yourself way to create some distance, yet this time it was just out of teasing spite as you yearned for more of his tenacity. To be craved by a man was something you were missing out on in life….to be craved by Robin Hood himself, was a big bonus.

Sensing your mannerism and the playful vibe you admitted while softly feeling his legs as you pushed, he pulled….slowly….playing right back. “Ooooh…..trying to get away from me?” He smirks against your hair. You slightly shook your head as you arched your back and pressed the back of your head gently against his lips as your derriere dug deeper against his pelvis. That nearly did him in, gripping you harshly by cupping your breasts, he pulled you and smacked your back against his chest as he burrowed his face into your ear. Whispering in a deep and sensual tone, he says to you, “tell me what you want…..tell me and I’ll give it to you….I’ll give you…..e-v-e-r-y-thing…..”

Raising his hand, he sides eye you with desire written all over his face as he sticks out his tongue, and licks the tip of his middle finger. Traveling downward, he slips it into your panties, and uses the same finger to rub the small nub of your clitoris. Gasping for air, with the punch of pleasure banging your gut and chest, you whimpered aloud as you begged him with a whining tone, “ugh!....i….i want. It……..i want it…..”

“say it louder….” Sliding his finger up and down along your slit, he uses the moisture admitted from the crevice of your womanhood and slowly inserts it inside you. “I want it! I want it!.....” you nearly screamed out as you felt him lift your frame by the inserting grasp he had. With his finger inside, and his palm cupping the base of your soft spot, he raised you to your tip toes as he would slowly thrust it in and out. “ugh! P-please……”

“Please what?” he antagonizes out, yearning to hear more of your begging tones, getting more aroused each time you spoke out to him….yearning for him just as much he was yearning for you.

“Come on baby…..tell it to me like you really want it……tell it to me….like how you really want it…..”

Adding more ferocity to his thrust, his finger re-enters inside your hole as the squelching sound of the lubricant becomes louder and screams inside the bedroom. Feeling yourself gushing out, you finally caved in as you nearly collapsed, had it not been your grasp on his fitted cargo pants along with his wrap around your waist. “….p….please…….fuck me…..”

Turning you around so suddenly, he plasters his arms around your frame as he pulls you into an intense and feasting kiss. Never once breaking, you both nearly ran out of breath until he finally admitted a small gasp of air before proceeding. Bending at the knees, his hands reach down and around your back thighs as he swiftly lifts and cradles your legs around his waistline, carrying you over to the king size bed. Laying you down gently, he hovers above our frame as you both scooted towards the center, remaining in contact through the touch of your lips.

Once in position, he props himself on his knees as his military styled clothing continued to show off his lithe frame. Opening your legs wider, he softly rubs his fingertips against your thighs as he hooks them under your panties, and slides them off. Pulling your legs up and together, he slides the fabric off and tosses them to the side while keeping your ankles pinned together, resting atop his shoulder. Caressing and cuffing them together with one hand, he reaches down and unzips his pants slowly while biting down on his bottom lip, staring directly into our eyes. With the lights from the city peering into through the windows and curtains, a dimmed hue of a glow set the atmosphere right as he admired how beautiful you looked under him.

Slowly taking out his shaft, it pokes against the back of your legs as your ankles continued to rest over his shoulder, covering his length from your vision. You could tell that he was long and thick, based off how it felt against your skin as he rubbed it up and down, and tapped it against your thighs.  With the bulging tip, he slides it up and down in between the folds of your slit, coating it with that glistening shine that coated his finger. Entering, the tight pressure of your cavity caused his breath to growl as he tilts his head far back, exposing his protruding Adams Apple.

“Fuck you’re tight….”

Whimpering, you shift your face away as you winced in pain. Reaching up, your hands grab hold of his shirt as you dug your fingers into the material and his abdominal muscles. “Ugh!......i…it hurts!”

Remained facing with the ceiling, as he gasped out a breath of his own, he nodded faintly as he spoke “I know…..but I’m going to take care of that for you in a second……I’m going to take care….of you….” slowly bucking his hips in, he inserts, inch by inch until he finally was all inside you.

Enjoying the warmth of softness of your moist tissue, he flickers his cock as it rests inside, tapping against your walls while the pre-cum seeped out and puddled inside you. Looking back down at you, he finally caught his breath after taking a moment to appreciate the feeling of your body. Like the finest silk, you felt far too good for him to not begin thrusting.

With slowly pumps, he started off with a gentle pace as he asked you, “are you ready?”

Nodding, you felt the stinging pain pulsating as he stretched you out, going in and out…in…and out……

Once your response was received, his momentum became unforgiving as he picked up the pace and thrusted deeper, faster, and fiercely. Groaning out deep tones, Heeseung was overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he felt. It was so good, he had to go harder….he had to make you scream.

Looping his arm around your legs, with your ankles remaining on his shoulder bone, he slightly lifts your derriere off the bed as he continued to thrust and pump his dick into you. Supporting your frame by the lock on your legs, you found yourself lost in the sea of euphoria as you were getting fucked relentlessly by the infamous thief. Not knowing his real identity, you merely moaned out in long exasperating whines and whimpers as you felt more pleasure coming in, and the stinging tinge of pain was disappearing fast. Numbed and yet still able to feel every single inch of his cock thrusting in and out, you gasped out as you whined “p-please….please….ugh…don’t stop…….don’t stop fucking me.”

 Turning you over, he places a trail of kisses on the arch of your back as he grabs onto your rear, squeezing your cheeks together as he grabs your waist from behind. Propping yourself on hands and knees, you moaned out upon feeling his wet length trailing patterns on your skin, tapping against your cheeks as he prepares to enter. Steadying your body with a tight grasp, he squeezes your waistline as he re-enters, sliding all the way in. It was becoming easier to enter inside as he was stretching your walls open from thrusting in his large muscle repeatedly.

He never once thought he would ever take a married woman to bed, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d do everything.

Feeling the base of his groin as it presses against your rear cheeks, you gasped out as he starts back up on thrusting, slamming against your rear with sharp and pungent thrusts. The sound of your skin slapping against the skin of his base, along with his trousers as he remained fully dressed, he started off slowly and deep before going in at a rapid rate.

“Ugh! Ugh….my God…I’m……you’re breaking me….”

“Oh fuck yeah I am.”

Finding himself tenacious in ruining you, Heeseung took great delight in toying with your words as he slaps himself against you each time he thrusted in, pulling you by your waist simultaneously as he re-coats his dick with that precious liquid that emerged from you. The consistency started to thicken and turned white from the constant friction and rubbing from the thrusting. Watching it formulate before his very eyes, he watches as a thick, white ring of cream outlines his girth, growing and expanding along the inches the more he kept fucking into you.

“Ugh! ….fuck! I’m going to cum!” you whimpered out. He responded by increasing the pace yet again, spanking his groin against your round bottom as he powers in all the energy and masculinity into your womanhood, claiming you as he tells you to  cum.

“Cum baby……cum with me…”

Thrusting in with high tenacity, you both fell into the hands of your release as you reached your orgasms. Nearly screaming, you felt the tears of pleasure stream down your face as you felt his groin gyrate and vibrate against your rear as he filled you up, pulling you in towards him by his grip on your waist. Turning you over, he lays you down and re-inserts his length once more. Leaning in between your legs and plastering his chest against yours, he locks his lips with your own as he begins to thrust once more, initiating round two.

Grabbing onto your neck, he breaks away just slightly as his nose and lips remained touching yours. His thrusts caused your body to shift upwards as he watched you bolt up and down from his impact, loving the way your placid expression from earlier, was broken as he fucked you.

“let me give you a pearl necklace to wear around that beautiful neck or yours baby….”

Bumping up and down as he continued to thrust, you admitted a nod as you furrowed your brows in pain from the overwhelming pleasure hitting you once more. “ugh! D….d…too deep! You’re too deep!”

“Yeah?......lets go deeper baby……”

Gasping for air, he succeeded, though you couldn’t imagine how he accomplished the task as he was already going in all the way in. By lifting one of your legs and leaning it against your chest, he was able to reach depths that you had no idea existed until he pointed it out…literally.

“Oh my God! Ugh!...p…please….”

“I know baby….i fucking know……come on, keep taking it. You’re doing so well……you’re doing soooooooo good……come on baby, keep fucking it……fuck it….fuck it baby.”

“ugh!” you gasped out repeatedly, to which he responded by issuing teasing words as he breathed into your mouth. “Right there baby? Is that the spot?”

“Uuuuuugh!”

“Yeah? Want me to keep hitting it? Just like that?....come on baby, let me beat it up for you.”

Tapping against a spot deep inside your gut, you reached up and gripped his chest as he breathed deeply into your wide-open mouth. He refrained from kissing you, taking the moment to enjoying swallowing in each of your moans as he fucked you harder, faster, and stronger.

“oh fuck baby, come here.”

Feeling himself reaching ecstasy he quickly pulls out just in time as he kneels himself up and reaches for the back of your head. Pulling you in gently, he strokes his throbbing member as he ejaculates along your neckline, coating you with the pearl necklace that he enjoyed seeing you wearing……because it was his.

Growling out the last of his moans, he leaned back in and kissed you repeatedly as he caressed your face. Noting the lack of energy and your eyes fluttering shut, you became weak after succumbing to his performance. With one last kiss on your forehead, he gently pulled the covers over your body and fetches a few of your husband’s belongings from the master closet.  

Snagging your phone, he quickly calls in once more.

“Yo.” Jay answers.

“Be around the block in ten, right next to that Lebanese food cart, I’ll meet you there. Don’t worry about the cops, I scouted a loop hole route. Trust me. See you soon.” Hanging up, he left no chance for Jay to respond as he erases the call history, not at all concerned as the number he dialed in was that of a disposable phone. Leaving the crew untraceable.

Placing your phone down at your nightstand, he takes one more glance over and admires your sleeping state before leaving you to rest. Decoding the safe, Heeseung worked quickly as he clears his throat, still catching his breath from the heightened pleasure he felt from fucking your brains out.

Swinging the safe door wide open, there, the entire life’s value of your husband’s assets was free for the taking. Gold bars, velvet bags of diamonds, shareholder certificates, and large stacks of cash, a wide variety of investments that Heeseung stuffed into your husband’s gym bag. Shedding off his combat styled attire, he stuffs it all inside the bag while adorning the gym clothes he snagged from the master closet. With his cap remaining, Heeseung left his face partially hidden as he dressed himself in sneakers, basketball shorts, a fitted tee shirt with a sports jacket. Sliding back inside the vent, realizing that the guard never noticed it being detached from the wall, Heeseung slid and crawled through, configuring his way through while dragging the bag along through the spacious air duct.

Reaching another vent, he kicks it open and emerges out, into an empty guest suite located two floors below the top level. Figuring that the guard had already discovered the detained guards and reset all the controls in the security room, Heeseung peeked out through the small peep hole on the door, and there it was, off to the corner of his vision, he could see the security camera that covered the hall of the forty-eighth level. Containing the view of the door, Heeseung exits the room, casually, portraying himself to be a guest at the hotel as he remained inconspicuous. Tucking his hands inside the jacket pockets, he walks out and heads over to the elevators, walking past a few other guests and even a couple of roaming security guards. Watching as Heeseung stood calmly, waiting for the next elevator, one of the security guards noted Heeseung’s attire and tapped his shoulder.  

“Excuse me sir. The hotel’s gym is currently closed for the night.”

“Damn….well that sucks.” Heeseung hisses out.

“I know, we apologize for the inconvenience. However, there is an exclusive gym down the road that is open to all guests of the hotel. Its nearby, just a few buildings down, past Main street. Don’t mind the police, there is an elaborate search of the hotel since there was an intruder alert.”

Feigning a slight gasp with a surprised look, Heeseung calmly converses as he built a false rapport with the guard. “No shit…..huh….is it safe to leave the hotel?”

“Oh yes, nothing to worry about Sir. Everything is under control. We’ll have the man arrested in no time, we had cleared the top three floors and figured he made his way through the ladder well. The police are in a high state of alert, so please don’t be alarmed if they ask to check your bags as you exit the hotel.”

“Of course, man, thanks so much uh…” extending his hand, Heeseung hinted for the man’s name.

“Oh, Robert.” Shaking hands with the guard, Heeseung nods as he continues. “Robert. Nice to meet you man, Ethan.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Thanks for the tip, I’ll see you around man.” Heeseung enter’s the elevator with two other guests, listening into on the guard, he overhears as Robert radios in and commits to standard protocol.

“Three guests making their way to the first floor, two males and one female. Both cleared.”

As the elevator doors shut and started to move, Heeseung side glances at the couple, taking note of their distracted presence as they both displayed their loving affection towards one another. Pressing on the third floor button, Heeseung remained cool as the elevator reached the level. Walking out, he notes the security camera covering the entire hallway, leaving no door and room out of its line of sight……except for the vent that was on the dead-end wall, underneath the camera, out of the vantage point.

 “Too easy.”

Casually walking up, Heeseung takes out a key card, one that he had taken over a week ago when he scouted the entire top floor portraying as one of the lobby staff. Coding it with the hotel’s computer system, he copied the hotel manager’s master copy. Opening the door closest to the opposite corner of the camera, the angle only captured the top corner of the door, gaining enough sight to witness it opening and closing. Entering the master key into the slot, the guards in the security room watched and noted the door opening with Heeseung entering the room. Mistaken as a guest of the third floor, the guards shifted their focus back to one of the middle floor levels once the door to the room had shut.

The moment he entered the room, he swiftly ducked and leaped out, right from under the camera’s lens. With the door only partially covered, there was no sight of what went on underneath the center of the panel, leaving Heeseung free to feign an entry. Taking out the vent, he re-enters inside the duct, and crawls through, recalling the coordinates from earlier and developing his own alternative set, he reached the very start of his journey for the night, and found himself back in the HVAC room at the hotel’s basement. With only minutes, possibly seconds left before someone would notice the vent’s manipulated and displaying evidence of security breach. Heeseung quickly reaches up and undid the vent that led outside, held in place with an instant drywall gum that he applied on the corners of the vent, setting it back in place as a precautionary measure in case the guards conducted their roves along the perimeter of the hotel’s exterior. With no way to screw it back on from the inside, Heeseung got crafty and experimented with multiple home products to develop this concoction.

Pressing it outward, he grips on the grooves of the vent with his fingers so as to not let it fall and hit the ground, causing noise to alert the police stationed out on the front and back, occasionally roaming around. With the helicopters hovering over the neighboring buildings about five miles out, he would have just seven minutes before they would migrate back over the hotel. Quickly exiting out of the duct, he props the vent back over the opening, before climbing in between the neatly trimmed trees that outlined the hotel, providing a luxurious lining of landscaping beauty. Remaining in the shadows close to the trees, he travels on the opposite end of the foliage, making his way the in the direction of Main Street, passing by the back side of the fine establishments that neighbored the hotel. One he reached the fourth building down, he walked through the narrow alley way and emerged from the side, with the sight of police officers and the massive hotel building all at a solid distance. Right on time, a white SUV pulls up.

Rolling down the window, Jake peeks his head out as he looks behind and takes notice of the hotel and the line of police cars that covered the entire entrance.

“Need a lift?” Jake chuckles out.

Smirking, Heeseung walks over to the passenger side and gets in. Driving off, they head out to meet up with the rest of the crew, splitting the earnings as per usual.

Media outlets along with social media platforms blasted the news of the robbery. For days, nothing but talk of the hotel owner’s entire life investments, was all stolen. Desperate to seek information, the police released a massive million-dollar reward for any leads.

………………….

“This is Belift news. It would so appear that there is still no signs of the infamous thief, who is socially identified as Robin Hood. Once again, the thief has emerged victorious in stealing over 400 billion dollars’ worth of assets that included shareholder stock certs to major corporations and companies around the world. What is even more strange, is that Robin Hood, who was always known for his generosity in leaving a fraction of his prize to the most impoverished areas of the city, had skipped out and took everything for himself, as no one has come out with claims of receiving a gift at the doorstep. Of course, it has been three days since the incident, police express that Robin Hood may be more cautious and is remaining under cover and may possibly leave his gift after things calm down.”

Turning the TV off, you sipped on your coffee as you relaxed on the balcony, taking in the beautiful sight of the city in a separate hotel. What with the safe breached and your husband’s life’s savings all taken, you didn’t bother to remain at the NIA hotel any second longer once you notified him. Knowing that he would fly back immediately, you left him with a simple text….

Sending out the half-hearted message, you immediately blocked out his contact, not at all wanting to entertain whatever response he would text back. With the divorce papers unsigned, you didn’t even care as you realized that lacking his signature, would only mean that the divorce is contested on his part, yet you also knew that he wouldn’t show up at court to provide a defense, meaning the judge would automatically rule in your favor, making the divorce as binding and legal. Either way, you won. He lost.

Hearing the bell ringing, you got up and checked the peephole to see the hotel’s concierge staff member on the opposite end with a delivery man next to him. Opening the door, you greeted the two men as the staff member nodded and respectfully spoke.

“Ms. Y/n, there is a delivery for you that requires your signature of acceptance.”

“Oh, a delivery? ….That’s fine, where do I sign?” a bit confused, you signed the electronic pad, reflecting your acceptance as the delivery man handed you a box made of leather. Thanking the two men and gently shutting the door, you walked over to the table where you set the box down. Opening the golden latch at the front, inside was a smaller box made of velvet, with a small envelop wrapped with a red ribbon. The wax melt that sealed the envelope contained the letters “RH”.

“It….it couldn’t be….”

Opening it, you read the small letter that was handwritten with such delicate calligraphy.

“Tis the night where thy heart yearns for thee, I pray thy Maid Marian, remains happily free. Just as the swallows that fly above ye pretty head, I sit and stare, painting the canvas of ye blossoming face from thy bed. For I seek the comfort of her warmth and touch, Come out wearing this above ye bosom, the one whose heart I miss much. Wait for me, as I come to ye, Become thy Maid Marian, forever with me.” Love, Robin Hood

Opening the smaller box, laid delicately in place, was the most beautiful piece you ever did see. A necklace….made entirely out of white pearls.

.....................

"let me give you a pearl necklace to wear around that beautiful neck or yours baby…" - Robin Hood

-Fin

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[honeycomx]

Remember The Rain

Domesticated!Frank Castle x Black!reader

a/n: random ex and you’re gonna be an Apple user today.

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Cursing, Violence, Smut ↴

⇣

You weren’t a stupid girl at all.

Things had changed in your relationship with Frank, you could feel it. You’d noticed the things he would do for you before now seemed foreign due to his recent absence. For the past three months it had been like that. But you chopped it up to him being exhausted due to the extra shifts he’d pull at night at the construction site. The extra hours wasn’t the issue, hell you were even pulling some at the hospital. Y’all were making plans to buy a house instead continuing to rent so it wasn’t out of the ordinary. But his distance was.

Even though you were working just like him, you still found time to spend with him, or attempt to anyway. He would give the, now, common excuses of ‘I’m tired honey’ or ‘I have to work a little later’ or ‘maybe another day’. And honestly now, it was becoming suspicious and hurtful of his avoidance of you these past few weeks. And to make it even worse, he hadn’t touched you in two, which was definitely not like him. He seemed to have infinite stamina when it came to sex, you knew. He could go on for hours and hours, dusk to dawn, from position to position. He was like a starved beast when it came to getting his rocks off. But recently his appetite was more sated, and you hadn’t been feeding him.

‘So who was?’ That was first thought that came to your mind. Doubt was flooding through your mind, every time you saw him laugh at his phone, leave for work, or even watch television. You just wanted to know if every ‘I love you’, passionate kiss, sweet messages sent, or intimate moments shared with him were genuine and real. Or was he just doing these things to keep you with him, in fear of being alone.

You couldn’t take it anymore but you didn’t have the heart to confront him with proof. If he wasn’t, you would terrible but your gut saying your feelings were spot on. You didn’t want to risk him knowing you had your suspicions, in fear he would stop his actions. You wanted him to be real with you. You knew he wouldn’t tell the truth, because he knew he had a lot to lose with you. And unbeknownst to him, even a child. Yes, you were pregnant. But you wouldn’t be for long, if he was cheating. And you were going to find out if an appointment needed to made soon…

“Damn 3:30 to midnight is different for you.” Frank said as he passed you your car keys and lunch from the kitchen counter.

“Yeah but we need the money and duty calls.” You grabbed your coat and badge before opening the front door.

“Alright babe see you later.” Frank said making his way to couch to resume watching his football game.

“No kiss?” You called out before he sat. Usually he would automatically give you one, without question.

“I’m sorry baby.” He said running back to give you a quick peck. This time he watched as you made your way to your car, just in front of your shared home.

“Have a good shift.” He called out, as you loaded in to the car. After blowing him a kiss and sending him a wave, you started the car, before making your 25 mins journey to your ‘shift’ at work.

“You really think he cheating?” Your cousin and co-worker, Bianca asked as you settled into the driver side of her vehicle. You were in the parking lot of the job y’all shared. To Frank’s knowledge, she asked to pick up a shift with her this evening. But in reality, She was letting you used her vehicle to devise your plan. In case, you had to follow Frank, you didn’t want to use a familiar car.

“Yes. He’s been acting real distance and I don’t know, I just have this weird feeling about him lately.” You expressed your doubt to her. She seemed shocked about it, to her knowledge, y’all had a fairytale type of relationship. You rarely had any problems in your relationship with Frank in the 5 years y’all had been together. In fact, prior to this, just a few months back, you told her you suspected he was going to propose soon, since you caught him looking up engagement rings. This was a huge turn in events.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She questioned, leaning against the downed window.

“No but I don’t feel like I should. I feel like he’s hiding something or someone. I know my intuition isn’t off.”

“We’ll do you got anything on you that he could track?” She asked, making sure you don’t have anything that could get you caught.

“No, I turned my location on my phone. But my iPad is in the car so my location shows I’m here. Plus here’s my keys if I don’t find anything in time. I’ll just meet you back at your house.” You handed her your car key, which she pocketed before glancing at the time, and cursing under her breath.

“Okay Y/N. I love you and be safe. I gotta go clock in. Call if you need me. You know I ain’t got no problem leaving this job.” She assured, giving you a pointed look.

“Thank you, Bee.” You muttered as the two of shared a hug through the window. She said one last goodbye before jogging her way into the work building for her shift.

It had been a little over three hours since you arrived back at the house. You parked on the adjacent street a few houses up but close to where you could still see your home. And luckily, when you had gotten back from the job, Frank’s car was still parked and the light was still on in the living room, indicating his presence. You tried to busy yourself by aimlessly scrolling through multiple social medias to ease your nerves. But your mind was running like a faucet.

The thought of Frank stepping out on you had you worried, you truly loved him and eagerly wanted to start family and settle down with him. You hoped you were just overreacting, you hoped he had the same thing in mind. But you couldn’t deny the way you felt, you wouldn’t be able to continue on with him, knowing your feelings. You felt the waterworks coming, you really didn’t want your heart broken again especially by Frank. You wanted him to be the one, didn’t want all that time invested to be for nothing.

Wiping the stray tear from your eye, you glanced back at your front door, this time it opened, your eyes widened, you sat up in your seat to get a better look. Frank stood in the doorway with different attire from earlier and his hair had a curly silkier look to it as well as his beard. He had recently showered. You watched as looked up and down the street as if he we’re waiting for something or someone…

You watched his face visibly light up as if he spotted what he was looking for. And you followed his gaze. Lo and behold, there she was, a slender blonde with nice perky ass and titties to match. She was a bombshell. Her attributes were the complete opposite of yours. She had long streaks of straight golden blonde hair, whereas yours was kinky cloud like mass of brown/black curls. Her body was slender and toned, more athletic build. And your body was thicker and wider, a more chubby build, and it didn’t help that you were carrying either. You watch as she threw her arms around Frank’s neck, as he wrapped his around her waist, they accepted each other gracefully. A shaky gasp left your lips, as their locked in passion. Frank pulled his mistress closer as they continue their heated make-out, pulling her into the home before shutting the door behind them. You slumped back into the seat in defeat, after witnessing the dreadful scene in front of you. Frank was cheating.

Tears started flowing like a river, you stared at your desecrated home in complete despair. Never would you have thought in the few years you were with Frank that he would do cheat. He made it seem like the love you two mentally, physically, and emotionally, shared was irreplaceable. Only for him to turn around share his love with another. The sadness you felt quickly turned to anger the more you thought about it. At first you wanted to just leave but you knew Frank would deflect if you confronted him later. So you decided to do it now while the evidence was undeniable.

Minutes passed before you hurriedly gotten out of the off car and crossed to the street, taking the path up to your once cozy row home. Unlocking the door quietly, so you wouldn’t announce your presence to the pair. As your slowly creaked open the front door, you noticed the lower level was empty of life, besides the television playing sport reruns. As you were about to further scope out the place, you heard it, above the sound of the loud broadcasters, the slow creaking of the bedsprings coming from y’all shared bedroom entering the the lower to which you stood in, unbeknownst to the latter above.

“Frankie…please.” The broad moaned.

The cold sensation that racked through your body, was something not even the thickest of coats or furs could ease. It made the realization set in more that your boyfriend of 5 years was just above your head, making a another woman cry out his name in y’all home when it should’ve been you. The cold feeling had yet to shake, but you mustering up whatever strength you had left and began climbing the stairs, being sure to avoid alerting them of your presence.

Your heart sunk further as you made your way up the stairs, closing in on the bedroom. The creaking of the springs increased, the sound of skin being pounded against skin grew louder, the smacking of lips against each other became evident, as well the soft groans coming from Frank, who you thought was your boyfriend, as he made love to his affair lover. As you reached the top of the stairs, the site of men and women clothing being scattered like roses leading to the slightly opened bedroom made you sick. The fact that some of those articles of clothing were Frank’s made you even more sick.

Taking small cautious steps towards the bedroom, you were finally able to see the situation for what it was, though it brought tears to your eyes. In front of you was Frank, as bare as a newborn baby, his sweaty scratch filled back was facing you as he held her petite body in place by her small hips as he rapidly battered himself in her arched bottom, as her upper half was burrowed in the sheets.

“Fuck Frank! Don’t stop baby. I’m so close..”

You halted in your tracks, you recognized that voice as Jessica, his ex. She had called Frank’s phone multiple times, when you both first made it official. Her high-pitched voice screamed at Frank through voicemails, call him everything but a child of God. You were present as he listened, he warned you to block her because of her craziness, and vouched that he did the same. Apparently, that was a bald-faced lie.

Enough was enough, you had seen everything you needed to see. You slammed the door open, the two instantly jumped apart, screams left Jessica’s lip as she quickly faced the doorway, pulling your bedsheet over her nude body. Frank immediately covered his hardened appendage. You stared down the two, anger masked your face. The look of horror etched on both their face would’ve been priceless if the situation wasn’t happening.

“Baby.” Frank stated as you made threatening steps toward him. All while, Jessica immediately gotten off the bed, tossing on Frank’s discarded shirt.

“Don’t you dare ‘baby’ me Frank. 5 years of my life gone down the drain for this bitch,” You screamed, pointing towards her. “The same bitch who broke your heart in the first place. Then you do what she did to you to me?! Me?! Like I fucking deserve it!”

“Well honey,” Jessica spoke, making you send a menacing glare her way. “I don’t know what you expected, he was beating my walls down for 10 years before he beating yours. You should’ve known I wasn’t going anywhere.” She snared, place her manicured hand on her hip.

“Excuse me?!” You asked, wondering where her audacity came from.

“I don’t think I stuttered. I mean look at you.” She spat, looking at you in complete disgust.

Your fists balled up in anger as your eye slightly twitched. Frank already knew what was about to happen next. You leaped across the bed, Jessica screamed as she saw you coming. Before you could reach her, Frank’s arms wrapped around your midsection, pulling you back to his nude form.

“Let go of me Frank!” You yelled, trying to pull him arms off of you, kicking and screaming as he made distance between you two.

“Jessica get out of here now!” Frank urged, struggling to hold you back. Not needed to be told twice, she ran out, swiftly gathering her discarded clothes.

Seeing her run away, added fuel to you fire.

“Fucking let go!” You screamed, thrusting the heel of your foot onto Frank’s toes.

“Son of a bitch!” He yelled out in pain, immediately letting you go.

Wasting no time, you went bounding after her, catching up quickly, surprising her with your speed. As she ran down the stairs to the front door, you clog covered foot made connect with the center of her back, sending her flying down the rest of the way, and smacking the hardwood floors with a pained scream, her clothes scattering out, no doubt causing her to bruise her skin.

Your rage blinded you as you went after her. Your sense of rational thinking, left the moment you walked in on them. And her words didn’t help, even though it was the truth. Still her willingness to disrespect you, your relationship and your home, was not something she was going to get away with. She had walked in to your home with all the confidence in the world but she damn sure wasn’t going to leave with it and maybe not her teeth either.

“First you fuck my man! In my bed!,” you yelled gripping her blonde streaks, causing her to yelp in pain. “Then you come in my house and have the audacity to disrespect me! You have lost your damn mind!” You screamed, landing blow after blow on her body, almost after every vowel. Her cries of pain as she desperately tried to fight you off, brought you sense of bliss, in this trying time. Not matter how much, she yelled, bit, scratched, or hit, she couldn’t fend you off.

You could hear Frank fumbling around above before descending the stairs as y’all fought.

“Jesus Y/N! That’s enough!” Frank yelled, running to you, now sporting a pair of sweats. He yanked you from the girl, causing you to fall back from her, making land on your back.

He rushed to pull the pummeled Jessica further away from you and to her feet, letting her lean on him for security as she steadied herself.

“Get me away from her!” She whimpered, leaning further in to him.

“You shouldn’t have been here in the first place?! You home wrecking whore!”

“Both of you stop it!” Frank commanded, standing in between the both of you.

“Like hell I will. She’s got 10 seconds to get the fuck outta my house before I drag her ass out.”

“No you won’t Y/N, you already went too far.” Frank retorted.

“I went too far! You were fucking that home wrecking bitch in my bed. Then she has the nerve to be smug and disrespectful to me about it. And now, I’m the bad guy, I’m the fucking victim!” You couldn’t believe his willingness to defend her.

“Y/N, you still went too far. She might need to go to hospital!”

“You know what, Frank? You telling me that like I’m supposed to care?! But since you love and care about her so much more than your fucking girlfriend?? You can take the bitch there and she move in with you cause I’m fucking done!”

Without giving him a chance to give a rebuttal, you sped back up the stairs to the bedroom, you’d soon previously shared with your, now, ex-boyfriend. Tears start to flow as you threw the closet open, you grabbed your duffel bag immediately ransacking your dressers, tossing whatever clothing and necessities you needed. You were done with Frank, there wasn’t anything to talk about. Seeing how he treated her, made the ache in your heart spread even more. He went for her first even though you both were hurting. She shouldn’t even have mattered to him anymore. But apparently she meant the most, you could see that. She was the one that was in the wrong, yet he was coming to her rescue and protecting her each time. Frank had broken your heart into pieces, and you weren’t going to sit there and let him break it even more. You loved him dearly, but you loved yourself more than to deal with his infidelity.

Below you could hear the sound of muffled talking, then the front door shut. The heavy footsteps of Frank, made their way to where you were.

“Y/N.” Frank’s gruff voice called out to you. Which you ignored, and continued to pack your stuff.

“Can you stop being immature for second and just talk to me so I can explain?” Frank pleaded. A scoff left you lips, “What’s immature is me walking in on my boyfriend fucking his ex in my bed. When he could’ve been open with me when he had the chance.” You weren’t sure if he trying to get a rise out of you so you could speak to him or that bitch rubbed off of him too much because of his logic.

“I know I fucked up” He tried to reason.

“No you’re a fucked up person,” You spat finally facing him, “And if you can’t tell I don’t want to hear you’re bullshit excuse for cheating on me, Frank. You should’ve left with your lover to the hospital because I’m leaving, it’s not up for debate.” You zipped up your full duffel bag, but before you secure it over your shoulder, Frank took it from your hands.

“You’re not leaving until we talk.” He said, tossing the bag behind him.

“Frank give me my bag.” You demanded trying to go around his large form, only for him to block your way.

“Y/N I’m sorry. I know I made a mistake but I don’t want you to go.” He plead, once again. This time you could see his eyes gloss over.

“Frank how selfish can you be?!,” you spat, tears pooling in your eyes as well. Usually, you hated Frank seeing you cry but you couldn’t hold this time. Frank’s face held a shameful look as he watched the tear cascade down you rounded flustered cheeks.

“You want me to sit here and have a conversation with you when I can barely even look at you right now. You have no right! If I need space, I deserve it after today. You made your choice the moment you let her in our bed, even if it not what you want now, it what you wanted then. Just give me my bag and let me go.” You went to move around his towering frame and grabbed your bag and this time he let you. Swinging the handle on top your shoulder,

“Wait,” Frank large hands gripped you wrist tightly, halting your movements. You turned to face him, tears started running down his cheeks,“Just promise me we’ll talk.” His voice was soft, giving his last plea. It made your heart ache more. You snatched your wrist from his strong hold.

“Goodbye Frank.” With that you left out the door, without looking back.

You threw you bag in the back seat of your cousin’s car before getting in the drivers seat. Immediately, all the hurt and tears you were holding back came flood forward. Sobs rack your body as you gripped tightly on the stirring wheel. You grabbed your phone and texted you cousin that it was true and you were on your way back to her home. You still struggled to collect yourself as you started the car. Looking back at the house, you saw Frank standing outside the door, watching you. Shaking your head, you pulled off in the street, watching him shrink in the distance.

Driving away from what used to be your home, brung back every happy memory you shared with Frank. From the first night you met to last intimate moment shared between you both. Then to end of it, which you couldn’t believe was happening. You were at a lost, you lost your boyfriend to his ex, and you’re pregnant with his baby. And as fucked up as it is that you didn’t tell him, you wanted to be free of him completely. Meaning a even tougher decision was upon you, but considering everything that went down today, you were sure you were going to be making that appointment…

[woneuntonzz]

𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖎𝖊 || s.mg x reader

An alternate universe of wizards, witches, and celestial beings

ꜱʏᴘɴᴏꜱɪꜱ: In the tales created by the rulers of mystic society, all the magic in the world came from a single stone —the White Diamond— and was bestowed to the world by the very first sorcerers that hailed from the heavens; the Keepers. Those tales turned out to be true. And now, an evil force seeks the the power of the White Diamond. This evil overpowered the Keepers, leaving you who had retired from being of high power. Now it is up to you to fight this evil and await the hero from the prophecy that is said to be the saviour of the world.

contains: angst, fluff, a dash of humor, slightly suggestive (just squint maybe?), combat and blood, fantastical, names and themes derived from greek mythology, angels and demons, use of spells and incantations, (an attempt) made up greek chant, telepathy, wizards and witches, and wands, extensive backgrounds

word count: 8.17k

[an: yes, there is a part two (and quite possible a three) after this week]

⛦ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ!

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭 .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You’ve laid out a new batch of freshly baked cookies, straight out the oven and still bathe your face with steam. The smell of different cooked sugars and the aroma of the dozen flavors you had to offer whistled for customers that roamed the outside world. It was a heavenly time of the day, where wizards, witches and their children came with such delightful faces that wanted nothing more but a bite of your warm and delectable pastries.

“Lemon chiffon please, five slices.” the velvet-haired witch smiles at you with her pearly white canines, holding her son’s hand. The boy was about the height of your shoulders and he wore a junior wizard badge on his blazer. 

“Coming right up!” your voice, jolly and as sweet as your baked goods, made them smile. You’d watch them from the corner of your eyes as you got them five slices of the lemon chiffon cake from the display case. 

The bells chimed right as you went back to them. More customers had arrived as the sunshine warmed up the sorcerous lands. 

Those were simpler times. When magic was as wonderful as they’d be in children’s fantasies. It was all gone. A dark force took over what was once the land of joy and enchantment, now an ominous place where it was all shades of black, gray, and blood. Then, no one would dare challenge the sentinels that watched over the mystic grounds, but they were all gone with what seemed like a snap of a finger. Evil reigned upon the kingdom of sorcerers, the king they praised and loved was slain and his head was hung at the Fountain of Tears, the very center of the land. 

You had failed to aid the sorcerers at battle, concealing the last shard of the White Diamond —what the great Ahriman seeked that would give him all the magic in the world. He’d be unstoppable. You had it with you, ever since being brought down on Earth as a Keeper. The White Diamond was the source of all magic that ran through the very land you walk on. The dawn of mystic society began with the Keepers shattering the White Diamond, releasing its magic and finding its way to the wizards and witches of today. There was no use for the Keepers to hide such power as you were already granted with eternal life and sorcery at birth. Each shard was kept between twelve Keepers —including you, and with the progression of mystic society, you left the guardian life behind, settling at a cozy spot in town as a baker. It was no ideal life for some, but for someone like you who had endured thousands of years and hundreds of wars, it was the best gift life could offer. Living amongst the mortals, you carried a shard of the White Diamond, keeping it hidden with an obscuring spell. 

You knew the time was bound to come, that one vicious soul would one day seek the power of the White Diamond. It was the sole reason why the shards were kept separately. It was in the prophecy.

“Destruction awaits your haven, and a sword with the devil’s essence…” 

Ahriman was once a loyal servant of the south kingdom where there was no magic. He lost his family to an unforeseeable attack that killed a few dozen families. There was no truth to who might be the culprit, but Ahriman believed it was the mystic society. Blue flames and glittered fumes, it was magic, and he was certain it was the work of a sorcerer. Yet, there is no motivation for the mystic society to attack. With the lack of reason, Ahriman was hindered with his mission to seek vengeance and was locked away by the king. He spent two decades inside that dungeon, with pent up wrath and anguish. The spirit of Belial sensed the great power he withheld. Belial was banished under the oceans of eternal agony —Keeper Cordelia’s prison for banished spirits— but his power remained puissant, as his remaining disciples chanted his name he was able to whisper to Ahriman and grant him the strength of six armies. Ahriman escaped, leaving the walls of his prison obstructed. He was to come back to the south to kill the king, but not without the power of the White Diamond. 

At the occurrence of those events, you were already retired from being a Keeper and surrendered your magic to the old Keepers’ well. You blended in with the mortals, using incantations and spells, and a wand granted to you by Keeper Zephyr as a token. They were your family, and they understood your reasons. Never did they question nor oppose your decisions. You’ve served well, and it is you who gave the mystic society its mystique. You found the White Diamond from the caves of the lost tribes, and the spirit of the tribes told you to shatter the diamond, and the fate of the society would be in the hands of the Keepers. It was from those spirits that you’d be given that prophecy. Along with Ahriman’s rule, was the rise of a hero. 

“Young eyes you’ll meet, and he will wear the darkness when he returns. He is the might of the society, his heart is the true yielder of the White Diamond and he will save a Keeper’s soul.”

The hero was yet to come. But you had to wait. You hoped that the hero was a sorcerer who can help you revive your magic from the well. Because after Ahriman’s attack on mystic society, what was once your sanctuary for your passions of tending to the wizards and witches, would become a desolate place for potions and wands bound to no possessors. You were in no power to resist nor attempt to fight the circumstances. You’ve had futile attempts at the well, unable to solve the Keepers’ riddles, and your magic would remain with the well’s dew. Ahriman’s soldiers would come into your shack thrice a week for duneberry serums to get rid of any wounds, relieve any pain. On occasion, they would stop by to retrieve special potions —that you had received a mandate letter for— that you could only guess was for battling and slaying the mystic beasts of the society woodlands. You’ve been given an order to brew silver hare drops at the time of Aries. It was used on weapons, splayed on blades. Once the solution is mixed in with a being’s blood, their heart will stop within the count of five seconds for smaller bodies, and twelve seconds for larger ones. You knew they visited your shop for a cruel purpose, under vengeful orders. You knew you shamed Keeper Fauna’s values. The mystic society was meant to house and protect those beasts because they protected the mystic from monsters that dare threaten the society’s inhabitants. 

For years, you’ve been devising a plan to escape this land of chaos, and retrieve your powers from the well. And soon you’ll meet the hero in the prophecy and save the mystic society. It just won’t be very soon. Escaping was harder than living under Ahriman’s ruling. The sentinels became punishers, minds corrupted to serve the great evil. You did not have enough strength or magic to get past them, and they were near every means of escape. It was a seemingly impossible dream that you’ve fostered for a decade. And Ahriman was still on the hunt for the White Diamond’s missing piece. You knew by then that he had killed the other Keepers with Belial’s influence. You could hear Belial’s whispers again, that’s when you knew that he was coming back once he’s garnered all the power Ahriman had to offer to him through bloodlust. He would rise from the oceans of eternal agony with his army of undead wizards, then he would yield all the gold of Earth and call for the wrathful dragon, undefeated and fated to destroy the world, the gateway to Ragnarök, Flauros.

As long as the last shard is with you, Ahriman’s malevolent schemes will be thwarted. Nights left no room for sleep as you studied the shard. Tapping the end of your wand against its sharp edges, it creates small sparks that produce puffs of smoke and magic dust. It smelt of dew of the caves from which the White Diamond was found. The shard would illuminate when held, but it would be very meek. The first time you held the White Diamond —when it was still intact— its shine lit up the entire cave. The diamond as a whole emitted sparks of endless magic dust that landed all over your hands and all over your silk, translucent robe. The shard alone that you held in your hand at this very moment does not behave the same if not thoroughly meddled with.

“...his heart is the true yielder of the White Diamond…

and he will save a Keeper’s soul…”

It was midnight, and the sudden knock to your shop’s locked door spiked the fear in your nerves. It could be Ahriman’s soldiers —or Ahriman himself, coming to seize that last shard. You are defenseless without your magic, your wand and spells will never be enough to fight him or his men as they were granted power by Belial and were under his control. Belial’s spirit would only grow stronger, and soon, fragments of his consciousness would live within their souls. You feared that when you answered the door, you'd look straight into Belial’s eyes, like you did before when you sought to capture him. It was you who battled him with telepathy —the gift of your magic— and loss, your soul almost being eaten by him. Taking a deep breath, you unlock the door, sliding the latch off, you release some air, right before opening the door, just enough for you to peek. 

But you would be met with nothing but the darkness of night. “To who’s knock have I answered?” you’ve counted the few seconds of silence —twenty long seconds, before a hand slightly pushes the door open. “You mustn't enter without your answer. To who’s knock have I answered?”

It was a man, and he would clear his throat before he sounded his response, “I am looking for the sorceress Y/n.”

He tried to push the door open, but you’d keep it still with your hand from the inside. “To who’s knock have I answered?”

“I am Mingi. I’m the son of the head witch of Celeste’s manor.” 

Celeste —the name given to you by the Gods as a Keeper. You were one with the celestial bodies, their light giving you power to look into the minds of mortals and immortals alike, and control them. But you no longer had that power with you. “Inside.”

You spread the door open, finally seeing his full figure. He was dressed in black, a long coat and a homburg on his head. You meet his eyes that were the color of silver. You knew him, and his mother most of all —the only mortal that knew of your true self, the witch you’ve entrusted your treasures, crystals, and manor with, head witch Verbena. Your manor was a shelter to young witches who attend collegiate courses for sorcery, alchemy, and psychomancy at the mystic academy. You used to visit when you had the time, dropping off pastries for the witches, and for the little boy that ran through the halls to ask if you had brought his favorite. The little boy who asked for lemon chiffon cake, was now the man who stood before you. 

“Why do you seek me?” you ask, rushing to lock the door behind him. 

“You do remember me, right?” his voice was deep, yet anxious. “You knew my mother too.”

“Yes I do, Mingi.”

“Mom was killed by Ahriman’s soldiers.”

You were suddenly breathing thick air, your huffs becoming audible amidst the silence. “Verbena…” with your feeble utterance, Mingi removes his hat, revealing his fawn-colored locks, then he discards his long coat, hanging it over his forearm. He wore a black suit underneath, posh looking with silver motifs all over.

“I was called here by…” he avoids your eyes, looking for his next words within the cracks of the floorboards. “It was a voice in my dreams. I know it sounds crazy but—”

“Mingi, nothing will ever be crazy in our world.” you interrupt him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you speak.

“Right.” he clears his throat again. “The voice told me to go here. I know this used to be the town's favorite bakery, the voice was showing me that and told me to find the missing piece.”

Your eyes dilate, realizing he might be sent by Ahriman to steal the last piece of the diamond. “Mingi, who do you bow to?”

“Me? I-I bow to the Keepers.” he stutters, and you took a minute for yourself to grasp the tone of his voice and his mannerisms. 

“The truth, Mingi.”

“I am telling the truth, sorceress.”

You find it pleasurable for him to refer to you as sorceress, you figured perhaps he must know you were a Keeper yourself. If you had your magic, it would be easy for you to tell whether he was being honest. But now you have to rely on your mortal instincts. 

“Then, what is the missing piece?”

His eyes wandered around again for mere seconds before he sighed, “I don’t know for sure. My dream was quite discreet with the details.” he utters, eyes finding yours. 

You watch as his gaze falls all over your features, examining your very stature. He motions as if he was about to say something, but then he hesitates and decides to not do so anyway. You walk closer to him, taking the coat off his forearm. 

“Follow me.” you say as you walk to the back of your shop, into your room. 

You could hear his heavy footsteps against the wood floor, creaking slightly. When you got inside, you realized you had forgotten to turn off the lights at the main area of the shop, “Sit down and settle yourself. I’ll be right back.” you placed his folded coat on your bed before you went and closed the lights. 

It only took you a minute or two, but when you came back, Mingi was standing next to your workbench, where you had laid the diamond. 

“Don’t touch that!” you kept your voice quiet, avoiding creating any noises that would draw in soldiers or punishers. 

“I’m sorry.” he utters, dropping the wand in his hand that he used to poke the shard. 

You walk over to him, picking up the wand. You were an inch apart as you stood from lowering yourself to the ground. You prod the end of the wand on his chest as a threat. 

“I apologize, sorceress. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” his soft utterance made you gulp, for how matter how mellow he had intended for it to be, his voice was still deep, like Cordelia’s oceans. 

“Sit down. Anywhere’s fine.” your back was already facing him when you spoke. 

You heard your lounge chair squeak a tad, then silence followed after. You walk back to your workbench where you’ve laid out books and old scrolls, a few wands from the wizards that were executed by the Fountain of Tears, and a stack of papers —a map standing out amongst all of them. It’s a roamer’s map. You’ve met a wayfinder in one of your expeditions before. He was of tall stature, alike Mingi —but unlike the shadow dressed man, Yunho wore white and a cloak that could conceal anything beneath its material. He gave you this map just because it “felt necessary”. The roamers map shows everything within its area of perimeters —it takes up about the size of a country— and moving sites will change the map’s scope. 

“Sorceress, can I ask you something?”

Your head averted from the map, snapping up at him. “Surely. Ask away.”

He nods, once again looking away like he’s forgotten his question. Though, it wouldn’t take him a while until he asked you, “You aren’t a mortal, are you?” you nod to his question, and he nods along. “You look exactly the same as when I was a kid.” 

“Mingi, i’m…” you thought for a minute, thinking back to Verbena. Such a kind-hearted and honest witch. She’s raised Mingi all her life. You figured, you should trust him like how you did with his mother. “I’m Celeste.” 

His reaction was calmer than what you had anticipated, he’d reveal just why quite soon. “So, that’s why you look like the portrait of Celeste in mom’s room.” he looks right into your eyes. “Why weren’t you with the other Keepers?” 

“My magic is long gone, Mingi. Leaving the life of a Keeper means leaving the power granted to you too. I’m as equipped as any witch out there.” he nods at your words. You pick up the diamond shard on your workbench, holding it up for him to see. “This is the missing piece —of the White Diamond.”

He stared wide-eyed at the shard, taking in the way it shone softly in your fingers. “I— it’s real?”

“And the folktale about the mystic society being born out of the White Diamond is real, it’s our story.” 

He stood up from his seat, still inspecting the shining diamond. “And it is you, Celeste, who shattered the diamond?” you breathed in, getting yourself seated at the edge of your bed. “When I was a kid, my mom would always tell me that Celeste had such a warm heart, and that she loved the mortals —you were all those things in our town’s folktales.”

You look away for a brief moment, wearing a soft smile as you reminisce about the kind of boy Mingi was. He shouldn’t be that different as a man —you think to yourself before bringing your gaze back to him. “Yes. I was all that —I believed all life on Earth deserved to be blessed with magic. Magic —it allows for one to truly understand the nature of the world.”

The corners of Mingi’s lips would rise. Then, he slid his hand beneath his suit at the area of his chest. He pulled out a red stone that hung from his neck, an amulet —and a familiar one at that. “My mom told me that my dad left this for her when he died but, I still don’t know what its purpose is.” his hands moved the back of his neck, reaching for the lock of the necklace.

He struggled for a while, and so you stood up and walked over behind him. He was startled to a fleet, but once he felt your hands undoing his necklace, he eased himself. You remove it from his neck once the lock is undone. You brought it closer to your vision, its back resting on your palm as your thumb brushed over the stone. It shone brighter as your skin glided on its surface, like the shard, only that this stone is red and slightly orange in the core. From the way it behaved in your hand, you could tell the stone was not in its purest form and was manipulated by sorcery, a spell of some kind.

“And your mother never mentioned anything else about it?” the stone remained in your hand, twinkling and glowing with every swipe. 

“She said it’s for our protection. From Belial.”

“I see. It’s blessed with a spirit ward.”

The necklace would revert around Mingi’s neck, along with the warmth of your hand that sent currents throughout his body. He spent his whole life fantasizing about the tale of the Keeper, picturing himself as a Keeper, protecting and creating life, serving the people for the greater good. He was raised by a witch that honored the Keepers with her whole life, having been a close ally to one. Verbena was a witch rescued from Belial’s minions by Keeper Zephyr, and would serve great help with protecting the wizards and witches by keeping them in refuge. Mingi was born after the war with Belial, and it was also when you gave up being a Keeper. Verbena owed you her life, because it was from you that she learned how to brew potions of any nature, use any spells with ease, create talismans, and most of all, you entrusted her with your manor —and what used to be the Keepers’ headquarters. Ever since the war with Belial, the Keepers had agreed to guard the different bodies of the world. The oceans, the sky, the animals and the plants, and the people. Since then, the manor was unoccupied, and there would be no other wizard or witch worthy of your credence but Verbena. Mingi has heard all the great things about you, feeling almost as if he was undeserving to be in your premises, let alone your presence. His eyes never leave you as you move from behind him, back to where you sat. 

“When I found the White Diamond, it came with… a prophecy.” you avert your eyes from his, setting your gaze on the tiny slit of your window that displayed half of the moon. “It was about Ahriman, though we'd never known it back then. But it also told me that there would be a hero to come.” you look back at him, right into his silver irises. 

Mingi whose young eyes you’ve met, and now he’s returned to seek for you, wearing clothes that made him one with the night —he wore the darkness. And maybe, his heart truly is the yielder of the White Diamond. 

“What’s taking him so long?” he questioned, like how he would when you could still lay a hand on top of his head. 

You laughed. He would turn out to be a bit bewildered, but he’d smile, huffing out once but never laughing wholly. “Maybe he’s already here.” you chuckled when he shrugged, finding his actions adorable. “Then, Mingi, you must assist me. Your dreams brought you here for a reason.”

“Right, sorceress. I will do as I am told.”

You walked back to your workbench, urging him to come along with the tilt of your head. He towered over your figure, looking down at the variety of articles, looking down at you. Then, you were the one who had to kneel to meet his eyes, but now your head leaned backwards, looking up at him as you shared your plans. You would share your failures as well, and the hurdle of being unable to restore your powers, not knowing how it was even possible. 

“Perhaps an incantation or spell would work?” Mingi’s overt suggestion only evoked a sigh from you. 

“Believe me, I’ve tried everything. I won’t be able to regain my magic without any of the other Keepers. But we won’t be able to escape and meet any Keepers without that magic either.”

“Let’s visit the well. Maybe I might be able to help.”

“Really?”

“Really, sorceress. I wish for you to allow me to at least try. I promise none of us will get hurt.”

You spent the night with him, preparing for your little endeavor. You remember spending a whole night’s sleep by the well, crying to the Gods. It mustn’t be that difficult, yet you had no idea of how you’d be able to return to your Keeper-self. It only added to the weight of your sorrows, already a heavy load from the destruction of the mystic society and the loss of thousands of wizards and witches. When the people need you the most is when you’re unable to grant the aegis you had promised them. 

The sun had just woken up when you and Mingi had set out to head to the Keeper’s well. You were both equipped with just enough in case of a mishap —bringing the shard along with you. You took the liberty of exiting from the back of your shop that led to a deserted alleyway. There were still a few eyes roaming around the area, but not very threatful ones. Reaching a more populous area, you stick close to Mingi, your hand holding on to the sleeve of his coat. 

“Take my arm.” he says, and you would do just that, entangling your arm around his. 

At a sudden instance, an Ahriman soldier catches your attention from the corner of your eye. If you weren’t so vigilant, you wouldn’t have caught up on the way he looked at the pair of you.

“Ahriman’s soldiers roam this area. You really should’ve left the coat.” you whisper to your company. 

And he whispers back, “Oh, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” 

“It’s my trademark.”

“Tradema—” your query was cut off by a loud and excruciating bang, and a small fire building up at the little shack you and Mingi stood by. 

“Sorceress, this is where we run.” he takes your hand in his, pulling you along with him, but you would only reach a meter before one of the soldiers came lunging at you. 

Mingi was quick to react, drawing his blade from its sheath. His forearm catches the man by his chest, his blade moving to a speed the mortal eyes could never follow. A heap of blood escapes the soldier’s mouth as Mingi penetrates his abdomen. Another soldier came to strike, but this time you took care of it, ducking and booting his calf making him lay flat on his back on the ground. That’s when you whipped out your wand, casting a spell on him that made his mouth foam. Three other men would come running your way, and Mingi would rush in front of you to shield you from them. He takes one man by the arm, and it fascinated you. The man’s arm was out of reach, but it would seem as though a mass of wind blew the man to Mingi’s reach. And he was moving at a speed of no wizard. He kills off three men with little trouble, and when he turns to you, you have your eyes laid on him whilst also having a man's throat in your hand and you’d strike the man with the same spell you used earlier.

“Let’s take a run, shall we?”

“After you, sorceress.”

Just before the other soldiers came, you two had already disappeared from the site, running off to the mystic woodlands. Reaching the Keeper’s well meant following a maze-like path, or else, you won’t be able to go through the barrier that conceals it. It was an enchantment of protection by Keeper Fauna. 

“That’s awesome.” was all that Mingi could utter once explaining to him how to get to the well. 

You had the map in your hands. Yunho had marked the pathway you were to take, a thought for a thought, he knew you’d need it eventually, but he only took that extra step because you’re his favorite Keeper. 

“You have to stick close, we can’t stray away from this path, not even a single step.”

“And the animals?”

“You won’t have to worry.” your eyes find his own, looking up at him the same way you did back in your room. “They know how to sort rotten souls from good ones.” 

Mingi nods, taking a breath of the heated air. He takes off his coat, feeling the warm morning all over his body as sweat builds up all over him. A Keeper’s eyes are reserved —you repeat to yourself, but you’d be watching him through your peripheral as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the clean side of his coat’s sleeve, then he removed his gloves, wiping his palm and the back of his hand on the sleeve. 

“Won’t you remove your cloak? it’s getting real hot.” 

You profusely shake your head, “I’ll be fine.”

He gives you a small smile for a brief moment before his eyes leave you. He started wiping the sweat on his neck, throwing his head back to wipe thoroughly. You felt a little silly just standing there, so you went and got yourself seated on an outcrop —a large rock. You could feel his eyes pinned on your figure as you moved yourself. Your back was facing him, allowing for you to have room to finally realize how hot it actually was. So with a sigh, you unfasten your cloak, allowing for it to fall down, leveled with your waist. The fabric hung onto the back of your elbow, your collar bone and bare arms now exposed. From the back, Mingi could only stare. Your top was cropped just above your waist, and the rest was covered with black, translucent silk, but maybe too translucent. You feel Mingi’s presence next to you. He sat in the opposite direction, but was right next to you. His bottom was aligned with where your knees rest, so he could see all of you, now from the front. You tilt your head at him, and he’d do the same, raising his brows. You shake your head, suppressing a giggle. Somehow, he captures your eyes. The silver shine in them was pure allure to you. It was like refined dark magic, lulling you, putting your surroundings to a stop, yet it was so beautiful. You feel a soft breeze against your face, softly drawing your hair back. You shy away from his gaze because of the sudden motion of nature. When you look back at him, your smile drops. 

“Mingi…” his irises glowed a different color, and it went back to silver when the breeze had gone away. “You are not a mortal, are you?”

With a slight shrug, he tells you, “I’m not sure honestly. I know I have abilities mortals normally wouldn’t have, but I only know my mother. I have no idea where my powers hail from —quite possibly from my father, but I don't know him either.”

He shoves his folded gloves on to his pocket, and you’d see a few scars all over his hand, some worse than others.

“How about you, Keeper Celeste?” you blink once, you were never used to being called that name. You’ve been Y/n for so many years. You hum back to him to question what he was asking you for, so he’d add, “Where the Keepers from?”

You wore a bitter smile, eyes wandering on the grimy ground. “I know the folktales told people that we fell from the sky, and it’s true —in some way. We were created by the Gods. They were giants that lived in the heavens. The Keepers were molded by… they never told us what, but that was how we were made. We were sent down when we were a decade old, to protect Earth.” you could feel the tears from the back of your eyes, so you’d close them for a brief moment. “We were children. I was a child too before I was a woman. But I never knew what being a child meant. Even if we were small, we were at our most powerful state of being. Our powers were fresh, and so were our minds. Nothing could manipulate us because our faith was with the Gods. That was until we lived a century. We realized that the Gods are sloth personified. They create beings to do everything for them, and they would do it just so they wouldn’t get blamed when the world turns to ash. They live through the faith of people. Once people stopped believing in them, they’d shrink into useless mortals. They’re just as selfish as demons.” 

Mingi kept himself quiet, basking in the way your voice harmonized with the sounds of the woodlands. His eyes urged you to keep talking as they softened. 

“That’s why I chose to live within the mortals and gave up being a Keeper. There was no way for me to die —other than cutting through my throat or stabbing into my heart— but I could give up the power. So I did that. My immortality is my curse, and I coped with baking, you know the rest of the story.” 

“You’re a great baker.”

“I know. You loved my sweets.”

“Believe me, I still do.”

You laughed amongst yourselves, thinking back to the good old times. No war, no extreme offenses, no conflicts. Just a life of bliss and magic. “I didn’t miss being a Keeper, well, not until now.” Mingi had his bottom lip in between his teeth, marveling at your features.

“Sorry, but, I can’t help but ask —how old are you?” you chuckle softly at his query. 

“Almost ten thousand years. I stopped counting when I hit six thousand. It’s too many numbers.” a laugh went past your lips seeing his mouth agape at the revelation. 

“And I look older than you?” his little quip only had you dispensing another guffaw.

Getting yourself composed, you reply to him, “Well, if I counted correctly, you’re about the age of thirty, am I right?”

“Spot on.” 

“You look twenty-one and thirty at the same time.”

“Hearing that from you, I'm thinking maybe I might actually be immortal.” 

He looked up to the sky, once again exposing the skin of his neck. The closeness allowed for you to see how spotless his skin was despite being a kind of vigilante, which proved to be a lot of work. He seemed to already be known to Ahriman and his soldiers, claiming his black coat is his trademark. “We can’t say for sure. You must last a century before claiming yourself immortal.”

“I will last a century. I promised my mom I will protect—” he stops himself, huffing briefly before he speaks again. “—the Keepers.”

“You did?” he nods at your little question. “You were such an ambitious child.”

“Still am.”

“Ambitious, or a child?”

“Can it be both?” his shoulders rose to a shrug, making you titter for the nth time. 

You were soon headed to the well, wasting no time to stop for anything. This path was truly one for wonders as it concealed the both of you from the rest of the world, all except the creatures of the mystic woodlands. Mingi kept himself close by walking right behind you, though he thought it would be better if he was beside you instead —he just couldn’t risk it. Soon, his hand would find itself on your shoulder as you walked through the trees, tracing each of your steps with his own. It was quite the trek but relief would wash away your exhaustion once you spotted a tiny cluster of wisps. They ward off any uninvited guests, and Mingi —despite looking intimidating— was welcomed by the gentle spirits. 

“Wisps?” his low voice chuckled against the little kisses the wisps gave him. 

“They’re very dear.” you mumble as more wisps came to you, playing with your hair and placing soft touches on your cheeks. 

Mingi’s eyes glistened with the glow of the wisps, and he watched as one hovered on your palm. You bring it close to your face, eventually giving it a sweet kiss. 

“I wish I was a wisp.” you hum in question of his utterance.

“Wisps are spirits that were taken for granted. Powerful, but was subjected to the consequences of life, suffering death before their spirits were able to spread love and wisdom in the world. They’re nice, but I'm pretty sure they’d prefer to be like us, you know, living.” he understood pretty easily, a little disappointed, but quite amused that you didn’t get the hint with what he said. “I love them.”

You relaxed the muscles of your hand, raising it up a tad and letting the wisp fly off to its friends. Ahead of you, finally, is the Keeper’s well. Your curiosity was at its peak when you remembered Mingi said he wanted to help, to try at least.

You walk over to the well, your hope dwindling with every step. The wisps had consoled you through all instances of you breaking down over numerous feeble attempts of procuring your magic. This time you hoped, that the presence of Mingi would change the course of this venture you’ve gone on for decades now with no success. 

Once your toes were only an inch away from the well’s body, you stopped, looking into the well, it was a ritual for you. Maybe your powers would peek back at you. 

“Are you alright?” Mingi’s voice sounded of worry, now with both hands resting on your shoulders.

You breath in the cool air of your surroundings, magic dust floating away from within the well with a soft inviting glow. “Lead the way, Mingi.”

You saw the movement in his throat as he gulped, making his way around the well and standing across from where you had anchored yourself. His blade leaves its sheath again. Your eyes were glued onto the alloy that shimmered with the illumination emitted by the wisps and the well itself. He holds it over the opening of the well, and his amulet —it hangs onto the quillon of the blade. “I wanted to test out something I’ve read out of the books, or maybe, this is just some stupid idea I came up with.” he mumbles the last part, but you were able to read his lips. Still, you trusted him. 

He closes his eyes, and he chants. From what you understood, it was an incantation, typically used in the area of fishery. Sounds odd for Mingi to be using such a spell, but you just stood there and allowed for him to work his magic. 

His grip on the blade loosened, and by every finger he detached from the grip, the blade got heavier, and heavier, until it fell. You heard the strong gust of wind as it continued to fall. 

“I wonder what the Gods are saying about this war.” it had been a while since the blade was dropped into the well.

Your anticipation had diminished completely. “Mingi, let’s just go.”

“I do hope they recognized the Keepers’ sacrifices.”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “Mingi, we have to go before we get ambushed—” 

“But then again, the Gods are none of our concern—”

“Mingi!” there was a slight crack in your voice, speaking as you fought the urge to break down again. “We must leave this place, now.”

“But I'm not done yet, Celeste.” 

“Do not call me by that name, Celeste will never come back.” the tears swelled in your eyes, and you’d swallow your misery to deter from crying. “It’s impossible, Mingi.” your firm voice softens to one that is gloomy and reflects your despair. 

With every step Mingi took closer to you, you’d only come close to breaking into a weep completely. A tear would trickle down to your jaw when he takes hold of your hands and makes you turn to the side to face him. You lower your head as the tears pour themselves out of you, you were breathing with a stutter. Mingi’s hand that was further from the well moves from your hand to your shoulder. Soon, you were laying the side of your head on his chest, the hand on your shoulder shifting to the back of your head whilst the other was entwined with yours. You felt Mingi’s heart thumping loudly in his chest, then he takes a deep breath and releases your hands at the side where the well was next to you both. His free hand hovers over the well’s opening. He was chanting again, but it was one you could not recognize even if you were hearing it right in your ear. You move away from Mingi’s body, watching his eyes change color like before. From silver to gold. The golden shine of his eyes reminded you of a pair that was very dear to you. 

“Zephyr…” you utter to yourself, but only you would be able to hear. 

Mingi was fully focused on his work, and you would hear that strong gust of wind again, now growing louder instead of the other way. Mingi stops his incantation, and looks into your eyes. 

“Say it with me, Díno tin písti mou stous anémous tis aioniótitas.”

Zephyr’s language. “Díno tin písti mou stous anémous tis aioniótitas.” and your faith was with Mingi. 

“Catch the blade Y/n.” 

You hear the wind yelling, and it was getting louder. With a foot on the rim of the well and a hand over the well’s mouth, you were able to grab the blade by its grip as it came flying out. Mingi’s amulet blazed an angry red, and so did the well. He led you back to him by grabbing ahold of your free hand. You still held the blade the same way you had caught it from the well. 

“Now hold the stone. Chant it again and close your eyes.” 

Mingi frees your other hand so you could touch the amulet. You enclosed it in a tight grasp as you closed your eyes, and with the wholeness of your soul, you chanted, “Díno tin písti mou stous anémous tis aioniótitas.”

You lose your breath for a moment as the stone sparked in your hand. A strong flash of light struck your vision. It was like the whole world went back to being a small ball of light within the emptiness of space. The Gods have created such a beautiful world, but it was all for show. They act with no care, the care they had was for their vanity only. Then you were back to the moment you were molded from fine clay and the flesh of man, back to the very moment your power was bestowed to you. 

“You serve the good, and only the good, and you will work to neutralize the evils from the very depths of hell, and you are never to betray your fellow Keepers, you shall love, but never turn against each other.” 

You look around, seeing the younger selves of the other Keepers. And then there was Zephyr whose eyes glimmered with the gold the Gods would flaunt to each other and their servants. He was far, yet his voice spoke to you, loud and clear. He tells you, “Guide my son Celeste. He is the true Keeper of the winds and time itself. Believe in him, Celeste.”

Everything disappears, turning into dust. Zephyr’s words echoed in your mind and the image of his eyes never left your head. 

“Celeste…” it was clear to you now. “I’m here… can you hear me?” Zephyr fell in love with Verbena, and their love bore a child. Mingi truly is immortal.

“Y/n!” you woke up, gasping from the shock of being awoken from such a profound dream. 

You’d be even more shocked to find yourself on the ground with Mingi, him holding you closely in his arms. Mingi sets his hand on your jaw to hold it, gently guiding your head towards him so he could see you. You were in your true form. Before him was an image, surreal and captivating, enchanting him with the way your skin warmed up his cold hands. The night was cold, but you were as warm as day. And you felt like you were reborn. You meet his eyes, and he sees the entirety of the universe in your gaze —the planets and constellations he only read about in books. 

“You’re beyond the beauty the tales make you out to be.” you hear the utterance in his mind. He seemed to have forgotten that you could read minds. “I’m so lucky.” you chuckled at his buoyant thoughts that just kept running. You wanted to confirm Zephyr’s message, and so you’d dig deep into his psyche. His whole upbringing flowed throughout every facet of your memory. And it revealed more than what you had intended to know. 

You still held the stone in your hand, and you and Mingi’s surprise, the stone was no longer red. It had turned colorless, much like the shard you had with you. 

“Mingi, this amulet, it’s a piece of the diamond.” Mingi loosens his embrace, allowing for you to sit up. 

“Yeah, I see.” you examine Mingi’s face. His brows were furrowed, indicating that he was utterly clueless. 

“It’s Zephyr’s shard, Mingi.” he looks back at you, with not much change in his expression. You hold back a smile. You speak to him with your mind to tell him, “Keeper Zephyr is your father.” his eyes grew wide and his hand clenched the skin of your bare arm. 

“Really?”

“Really! he told me himself, when I was in a trance earlier.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” you communicated solely with the voice of your minds, then you would hear his velvet voice again, “I read about the Keepers all the time as a child, and even now. It stunned me how similar my powers are to Zephyr, but I thought maybe it was just a coincidence, and that there were others like me.” 

Your hand finds its way on his cheek, your soft fingers gliding against his skin as your hand goes up to fix his hair. “There’s only one Keeper of the winds and time, Mingi.”

He wore the same expression of astonishment as before. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a Keeper.”

“So I am immortal after all.” you hear his thoughts again, making you giggle.

“Yes Mingi, you’re immortal.” 

He just stared at you, right into your eyes. For a short while, his thoughts were empty, just basking in your warmth and ethereal presence. You were a being of high power that everyone else believed were only true in folktales. But Mingi’s faith was with you from the beginning, and now your faith lies with him. 

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you?” you flick your tongue over your top lip, a smile forming on your plush lips as you watch his eyes linger on them. 

This was the moment you admit to having been enamored by him, right from the night you spent with him even if you had done nothing but administer your plan and prepare yourselves. His flawlessly structured face, his tall stature, his voice, his willingness to protect you —you had gone long without a lover, and maybe now’s the time. 

“Kiss me.” 

He was careful, and a lot gentler for the size of him. He was bewitched with the feeling of your lips against his. He kept repeating in his mind, “I hope this isn't a dream.” as he continued to kiss you, making you chuckle against his lips for a short while —a very short while as he chased the sensation of having his lips, and his tongue against yours. 

“Mingi.” you spoke to him with your mind, not being able to escape the feeling he’s ensnared you in. “We have to get going.” he keeps going for a few more lengthy seconds. He pulled away, leaving the two of you hot-faced and panting. You were both still lost and enthralled in each other’s eyes, then you’d talk to him, this time, with your voice audible. “Seriously now, we must go.” your mellow voice made his eyelids drop once, and he’d plant another soft kiss on your lips before pulling the both of you off the ground. 

“Can you stab me? just so I could be sure this isn't a dream or some sort of hallucination.” you titter at his words, the palm of your gentle hand playfully hitting his chest. 

“It’s real!”

Suddenly, his hands were all up in your hair. “Look, your hair, it changed color.”

You watch with awe as he moves strands of your hair around. “It’s my true form, Mingi.”

“It’s a crazy form —driving me crazy, that is.”

After a shared guffaw, you were back on track. Now with your magic restored, it would be easier for you and Mingi to move onto the arduous steps of your journey. You had a long way ahead of you, and a new Keeper by your side. He wasn’t one that was molded by the Gods and put through rigorous training by being thrown into a dragon’s cage, but he was one with a pure heart, and it set him apart from the rest of the Keepers. He understood human nature to its core with the blood of a mortal coursing through him. And he wasn’t one to give up, because you found out that it took him thirteen years to configure his magic and be able to use it without losing control. And unlike Ahriman, he wasn’t a vengeful soul. He only wished that there’s a future for the mystic society, for the world. And he would keep saving it, just so the people of the future won’t suffer the same fate as him and many others, mortal and immortal alike. 

“And he saved a Keeper’s soul…” 

not proofread, not planning on doing so either so :D

[daddymilker6969]

Oh my goodness I hear you say to yourself what an amazing array of page five stars and all so pleased to be at the Daily Milker Dawn has just rushed of to get more page five you’ve been milked badges made to our local stationary shop what must they think Dawn ? Well dear readers I give you more to feast your eyes upon

Tina Charles in a stunning red dress and black stockings no trouble with that hem I can still feel it flapping around my head as I brought Tina to ecstasy.

The very beautiful Pansy Puff waiting so patiently to be served what an extraordinary moment that was dear readers Pansy Puff didn’t let me down .

Well where is this new page five star I hear you say to yourselves let me introduce you too the lovely Air ilotte no Dawn stop calling me a baby snatcher some stars need that very special touch I know the moans were loud ,

Dawn laughed when Paula walked in oh my Paula Boner a bit out of your league she’s quite right but what lovely sensations my work is indeed a labour of love

[masha-nikita]

Better have a good enemy than a crazy friend (cont.)

I re-used Rommel from a previous work, because I like this Rommel but dissatisfied with the other work :/

Two Scorpios. INTERESTING.

The whole thing started with this post. The said friend finally agrees to help a little bit with fanfic. She doesn't speak English and I'm clueless with omegaverse; that is a problem LOL.

Here goes nothing.

They’ve been through this ritual for… how many days now? Making love in abandonment till the slim golden dawn undulates across the desert’s pale dunes. The intercourse continues well into morning hours, when the sun begins to burn their fragrant skins a little, and the inside of Rommel’s lower belly laden with his enemy’s alpha seeds.

“Indeed, this grand scenery does not exist in Europe.” Monty says as he sits up, “here, in Africa, this is the hill I am willing to die on.” Then, he smiles at his own military humor. Rommel lazily eyes him, still basking in post-coital bliss. He could only make out “Europe” and “Africa” from the other man’s monologue.

Montgomery along with his squad captured Rommel when the daring Fox got too close to the British base, during a foolhardy scouting mission with limited supplies of his necessary medicines. Once Montgomery accidentally triggered his enemy’s omega response, the Fox becomes Monty’s willing POW-- even his iron will had to bend before this primitive drive. Rommel knew it was his own blunder, and a terrible one. He has no right to complain.

Rommel grabs the English man’s hand and places it on his abdomen, muttering a few German words. Monty playfully wanders his hand downwards between his thighs. The Fox snaps it back, places Monty’s hand, yet again, on his flat belly. Seeing Montgomery in the mood of messing around, Rommel gives up communication, punches him squarely in the face, gets up, collects his clothes, promptly walks off towards the general direction of the Afrika Korps.

Montgomery does not treat him like a POW. It’s his own blunder. Rommel thinks to himself in utter frustration.

“Wait! I apologize! What is it you want to say? I'm listening!” Montgomery catches up to him, his face freshly swollen from the punch. He has nothing on him but his iconic black beret and underwear, a rather pathetic sight for this good general, but one that gives Rommel the illusion that the otherworldly love between enemies is possible.

Rommel sighs, damn this language barrier, damn that this barrier is powerless against enemy penetration into his soul. He carefully brings out a medal from his uniform front pocket, places it in Montgomery’s palm. It is both small and light and incredibly heavy, its color creamy porcelain blue.

“I am a man of duty, both to my country and my wife. I cannot further blacken my already tainted conscience.” He says, in a tongue he knows the other man does not comprehend, “But I do owe you. I’ll bring this child to you and reclaim my honor, eventually. I’ll be a part of their life until the very end of mine. This embodies my highest promise to you.”

Montgomery could tell it is the renowned Pour le Merite, prized treasure of all the 3rd Reich's officers. His heart sinks a little.

“Here.” Monty takes the golden badge off his beret, his movements clumsy with haste. “This represents me, all those politicians, and the civilians back in London recognize my status by this symbol. May it be with you, as though I am with you.”

“Thank you.” In a low voice, he speaks the only English he knows. Rommel's intention is to come back for his medal, but Monty has a hunch, they'll never see each other again.

///

Tension runs high in the OKH headquarters. Both Halder and von Brauchitsch are absent. Hitler throws the papers flying across the mahogany table. Apart from that, the room is eerily silent.

“I am not going to approve of your discharge, Field Marshal Erwin Rommel.”

“Since I am also implicated in the conspiracy case, Führer, I…”

“Don’t Führer me, you traitor, you whore!” Hitler snaps at him, already showing signs of nervous breakdowns, “Goebbel has been working his head off to promote you as our Reich’s prominent alpha hero! Only a few of us knew what you really are. You have that little extra bit to make you a whore.”

“There never have been any intention in my heart to betray you, Führer . I am speaking with my soldierly honor and utmost honesty. You knew me.”

“You used to be my personal security, but that was in the past. I don’t think I know you anymore.”

True, the trust has been broken completely. Rommel holds loyalty to his country, but not to this angry mess in front of him. Not anymore.

The Führer’s bloodshot eyes darts around his neck: “where is your blue cross Pour le Merite? What is that thing on your chest?”

“It is Field Marshal's gold wire embroidered badge…” Rommel paused, “of the British Army.”

“so you are literally in bed with Bernard Montgomery. I mean, physically and who knows what else, Is that so?”

Rommel understands at this point, in Hitler’s eyes, it is further confirmation of high treason. This whole conversation is a demonstration of his political naivety.

“Who else knows about this... scandal? Does Von Rundstedt know? Your wife Lucy?” Hitler motions the slightly visible bump in Rommel’s belly. Rommel shivers in disgust. He feels exposed.

“My trustworthy chief of staff Alfred Gause does. No one else.”

“Gause runs a good staff. He does not keep a good eye on you for me, however.” Hitler coldly comments, “Does HE know? I mean, the other father.”

“I cannot confirm that.” Rommel whispers.

“I bet that Brit doesn’t speak even a little bit of German. You may as well fuck all day and not exchange a word.” The Führer’s voice is loaded with irony. Rommel falls into a grey silence, a hint of red flies onto his cheeks.

“Old friend,” Hitler changes his tone, a manipulator that he is, “I could still find it in me to forgive you, on one condition: you take a bite of one of these bitter medicines.”

Two black boxes, one contains a cyanide pill, the other an abortion tablet.

“Choose, it’s Führer’s order.”

Rommel chooses; hands steady, his gaze dark. The choices are cruel, but one of them allows him to not break his promise. He’s a man of duty, after all.

“Don’t you beg for mercy?”

“I obey your order, mein Führer.”

He leaves with the pill option. An SS officer escorts him outside.

Friend- Hehe I am satisfied with the historical accuracy.

Me-

[ranchracoon]

Ch. 1 A New Assignment

The large glass building looks menacing in the early hours of dawn with minimal sunlight and dew covering the ground only adding to the aesthetic. The large Umbrella Corp logo sitting in the center of the building like a hypnotic red and white eye. Numerous people enter, wearing business casual or business formal depending on their level of importance. They each scan their ID badges to gain entry, then take the elevator to their respective floors to start on their work. Only a handful have access to the basement where rows of individual laboratories are stationed like those little glass boxes they keep the rats in. Before one can enter, they must go through a lengthy decontamination process, mask up, suit up, and go through a final trial to make sure their suits do not have any punctures. Any kind of defection could be deadly considering the severity of specimens they work on. 

One of these scientists is Dr Faekah Kahlil, one of the nations leading pathologist doing what she always dreamed of doing; making the world safer. She's been there since before the sun, working on her newest batch of frozen diseases sent straight from the arctic. Little does her bosses know that sometimes she loses track of time, and often sleeps in the company break rooms. She may or may not use the flushing system to give herself a quick rinse, and keeps a change of spare clothes in her locker. Add a little spritz, cup of coffee, and some makeup, no one is the wiser. Except Francis the nightguard, who has on more than one occasion found her passed out on the couch. She frequently butters him up with homemade dishes and baked goods so he looks the other way. 

Last night was one of those nights, she makes sure she's in her respective area before anyone arrives and they just think she has specialized access to come in early. As her colleagues trickle in she's already started on her work. Studying these new found diseases and the impact they could have on humanity. Should a single speck of one of these diseases get out, it could cause a world wide black plague 2.0 and she's not going to be responsible for the death of millions. So she moves slowly, cautiously, and takes her decontamination ritual seriously. The other perk to working with deadly diseases that need to be kept in minus Celsius temperatures, is she gets to work entirely alone. A blessing and a curse. She doesn't get to talk to anyone unless on break, but she also gets to listen to music she likes and can be completely absorbed into her world. 

A knock on the glass shatters her from her concentration, luckily she wasn't transporting something fragile and simply examining under a microscope. She looks over to see another scientist, Dr Cooper, waving at her and signaling for her to listen. Faekah reaches over and mutes the music currently playing quietly through the speakers, Cooper pushes a button making the speakers crackle and whine. 

"Hey, Mr. Moore wants to see us."

That's all he says before he releases the communication button and leaves her line of sight. She sighs. It'll take her at least an hour to clean up, then another fifteen minutes to properly decom. This better be important and not like last time where she was promised an expedition to the arctic to study these specimens, and wound up doing glorified secretary work. She did not spend eleven years of schooling, six years of active duty, residency, and competitive interviewing with backed sources just to be a glorified secretary. She takes her time, she gets a little satisfaction from making Mr. Moore wait. He constantly referrers to her as Miss Kahlil or some wildly inaccurate nickname because he can't pronounce her first name. Nothing irritates her more, so she gets off by making him wait longer than he needs to by taking her sweet, sweet time. By the time she does arrive with Dr Cooper, Mr. Moore is impatiently pacing back and forth in his office and his irritation is evident on his face. 

"It's about time Miss Kahlil."

"Dr" she retorts. 

"Not today" he grumbles before walking around his desk with two large stacks of papers, "I have a new assignment for you and Mr. Cooper."

"Dr" he says casually. 

Faekah looks up at him, Dr Cooper gives her a wink and a cheeky grin, making her smile back before returning her gaze to Mr. Moore. Mr. Moore rolls his eyes and shakes his head, he would ask anyone else if he could, but he needs the best of the best to work on this new assignment. He hands the large stacks to each of them, letting them take a moment to read through the assignment details and view all the legal paperwork they have to sign. 

"So you want us to study...mold? This seems like Dr. Coopers area of expertise. I'm a pathologist not a mycologist." She states.

"If you agree to the terms laid out in the packet, I can answer any questions you have." Mr. Moore answers.

"Can we at least know what we're getting into?" Dr. Cooper asks.

"That is all I'm legally allowed to disclose unless you agree. This is a big job that requires my best people and the utmost secrecy. No one else can know what you two are working on, and you'll be given special clearance to our sister site where you'll be working together. It's a secondary location located just outside the city."

"Can we have some time to think about it?" She asks. 

"I need an answer now."

Faekah looks down at the stack of papers, every instinct inside her is telling her this is a bad idea. If she were in an animal form, her hackles would be raised in defense. Yet, a smaller, deeper part of her wants her to take the opportunity. This could be the key to realizing her dream or could be the key to even more paperwork and a worldwide outbreak. 

"I'll do it" she answers. 

"Well, if she's doing it, I'll do it too."

"Excellent! I just need you both to sign those papers, pack up your things, and you'll start tomorrow."

Faekah couldn't sleep that night. She hovers over the folder of information given to her about this new assignment. She keeps reading the headlines of the incident report over and over again about this Baker House incident. She's never heard of mold being capable of turning people homicidal to this degree. Her mind is running a million miles a minute on what could be so secretive of this new assignment. Part of her thinks there may be something illegal behind it, wouldn't be the first time Umbrella got caught in a scandal. She loves her work, what she does, but now she's regretting this choice. What if she gets caught up in something and can't back out? 

The next morning does very little to ease her concerns as she arrives at the sister sight only to be escorted through the unmarked building by an armed guard. The guard guides her to an all glass room where she goes through a lengthy decon process, and dawns brand new protective gear. She carefully positions the mask on and the safety glasses fit over her own, as she steps into the glass chamber like she's prepared for surgery. She waits for Dr. Cooper before beginning anything, while waiting she takes inventory of everything made available to them and makes a handwritten list. Dr Cooper arrives shortly before she's done, and by the time she's finished he too is geared up and ready to examine the specimen. 

"I've never seen anything like this" Dr. Cooper states. 

The following days bleed into weeks and eventual months with no clearer answers than before. This mold is different, it acts as though it's alive in the sense a mammal is alive; it looks as though it's made from tar rather than mold. Feakah spends a lot of time researching how pollution might impact the mold and its spores, with nothing so far. As she looks through another slide of samples she narrows her eyes, seeing the mold indicating properties similar to common parasites. There's something they're not telling her. She looks up toward Dr. Cooper then glances over to one of the glass walls, seeing two armed guards standing at attention with their backs toward her. She watches for a moment, then sees two more guards patrol pass. 

"Hey Cooper" she whisper yells. 

"What's up?" He answers, poking his head up. 

She motions with her head, "have you noticed there's more armed guards lately? I thought there were only the two at the gate."

"Oh yeah, I saw them on the way in this morning. You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

Cooper looks around the room then pushes his rolling chair closer to her, leaning over the desk. 

"There was a huge breach last night. Some files got leaked from inside Umbrella Corp. Of course they're blaming H.C.F but, I think it's bigger than that. All these soldiers are from B.S.A.A. Smells a little suspicious to me."

She rolls her eyes, "you and your conspiracies."

"I heard it from the big boss himself. He was having a very heated conversation the other night before I left. I don't think he knows I heard."

Faekah looks at him for a moment then shakes her head, she's not getting into this debate again. For a scientist and a doctor, he believes in some crazy things. She's fairly certain half the things he says are made up just to get under her skin or see what she reacts to. However, she continues to look over at the guards, growing weary and suspicious about the amount of them and by the specimen. Something is up for sure. 

That night when she arrives home she flicks on the light to her apartment and stops dead in her tracks upon seeing a folder lying on her counter. She looks around quickly and locks the door behind her, her gun is in the safe by her bed. Luckily for her she has a backup plan. She squats down and shifts through one of her shoes, grabbing a knife she keeps stashed away before she creeps around her entire apartment. Once she's certain that the apartment is clear, she hesitantly approaches the folder, seeing her name on the tab marker. She swallows thickly and flips the folder open, looking it over. 

It has all of her information in it; her full name, her birthday, her hometown even the full names and information on her immigrant parents. She flips the page and her blood runs cold, seeing pictures of her as a preteen in Racoon City. Next are the articles of the city being destroyed by the president. She had blocked those memories, the horror she faced of people being infected and the sounds of their screaming. Sometimes those screams still haunt her. It's the whole reason she wanted to do what she does, so that no one has to face such a trauma again. 

She flips through the pages, the second to last page has a screening of her parents genomes and the discrepancies between their genetic makeup and that of a normal human. The next page is her with the same notes and pictures of her midshift. So they know. They know she's not human. Down in the farthest corner she sees in bright red stamped letters: INFECTED. 

Continue Reading

[calling4glaives]

Personnel File 9: Nyx Ulric

Though the original Personnel Files were for the other glaives, we thought we'd do one with Nyx to try to gather his information in one place. We hope it helps!

From the facebook blurb:

Name: Nyx - Greek - (can also be transliterated Nux) - Night, and the greek goddess thereof, a daughter of Chaos, mother of Sleep (Hypnos), Death (Thanatos), Day (Hemera) or even Dawn (Eos), etc. Her Roman equivalent is Nox, the genetive form of which is Noctis (of Night/of a Night/of the Night). [[Setting up the Nyx & Noctis, Selena & Luna parallels.]]

Ulric - English - probably Wolf Ruler, from Wulfric. Interesting Ulrics include Lenore Ulric, a silver screen hearthrob and Ulric Dahlgren, an interesting officer in the American Civil War. Or German - Ruler of all, or homestead/heritage + Rich, usually spelled Ulrich in modern times, though historically such variations as Uodalric or Odalrici make an h a slightly trivial difference. Interesting Ulrics include St. Ulrich of Augsburg, a warrior bishop who defended the city and Ulrich von Liechtenstein, an alias used in the movie A Knight’s Tale. The Germanic language origin is a little unusual among the Glaives. Perhaps a sign of a family origin connected to Niflheim?

Age: 32

[[From the wiki.]]

Equipment: - Battle Uniform - Nyx has a very unique battle uniform that draws on some of the others' styles but has no real match. Even the base elements of the uniform are modified, such as the zipper on the inside of his boots that make them much more practical to get on and off than most of the glaives', and a silver cuff around his right leg that is part of his thigh holster, but is reminiscent of Drautos’s.

His other sheath for his kukri at the small of his back is not in an unusual placement for a weapon among the glaive, though the horizontal draw is a little unique, but he lacks the external belts most of the other glaives have [[how is it attached?!]]. Even his silver mask is modified to have a curved horn on the right side that evokes the coeurl in his concept art. (Different from Ramuh’s horned staff)

[[Also from the wiki, Nyx's and Ramuh]]

Some of the completely unique elements include two oversleeves made of animal materials. On his left, he has a furred sleeve that is starts under the yoke part of the regular uniform, peeks out of the shoulder cutout in the short sleeve that is part of the jacket and then dangles out the bottom of it, fading from dark to light as it becomes a rectangle of more standard cloth-like texture that forms an open sleeve.  On the right, he has a wider piece of some sort of black reptilian hide that drapes completely over his sleeve (not unlike Tredd’s on that same side, but wilder in shape and fabric) and stops at his elbow in v-shaped tatters. Somewhere underneath this half-cape, half-sleeve is also where the long, trailing purple-ish ribbons attach to his back, at the same location as Luche’s hanging fangs do.

Over the top of the whole thing, he wears a double chain that arcs from his shoulder to attach to one of the buttons on his front, which has no other matches in his fellow glaives or anything even similar.

[[Also from the wiki, which has so many beautiful images]]

The rest of his battle uniform seems to be a leather-embellished combination of the other common uniform types: he has a folded-collar dickie that straps under the arm, with his Kingsglaive badge over his right breast, but it is made of a crocodile-like leather rather than the garland-pattern fabric seen on Luche’s; he has a symmetrical yoke reinforcing his shoulders with silver spikes on top, but smaller and without the shoulder protection of the kind Libertus has.

[[Look, just go look at the wiki if you haven't already. It's awesome.]]

-Standard Uniform: Nyx’s standard uniform is also rather unique. For one, he wears his kukris with his standard uniform while walking the halls of the Citadel, whereas usually the standard uniform is worn without weapons at all. The double chain of his battle uniform also is kept for his standard uniform, which is the only accessory we see carry over among the glaives.

Like Luche and Libertus, Nyx’s uniform has silver rather than black on the “stripes” of braid between the buttons of the front, which is unique to the three of them and possibly an indicator of rank.

Underneath the jacket, Nyx wears a fairly normal shirt with the standard sword design and a silver-ornamented vest that zips up the front, but also has an unusual set of criss-crossed belts with beads and other embellishments hanging from them.

While not confirmed to be standard or not, Nyx's pants are the only ones we see without boots on, and his end just below the knee, where they appear to be rolled or cuffed.

[[Screenshot showing his normal right glove courtesy of @starjunco]]

Nyx’s gloves are mismatched. The left has reinforcement of some sort across the back, but doesn’t actually cover the fingers in any way, instead having loops over the fingers to keep the back from sliding off, perhaps to leave more flexibility for magic or spinning his kukris as he often does. The right is the standard black fingerless gloves most glaives have.

-Casual Wear: Even if Nyx is not seen in casual wear directly, he does own some, and it hangs above his bed. He appears to have a thin hoody, undershirt, and socks.

-Kukris: Nyx’s kukris are unique among the glaive, like most of his equipment. Most of the Kingsglaive seems to favor longer blades, as a rule, and usually just one. Nyx’s blades have matching decoration along the hilt and are about the same size, but are otherwise rather different:

Galahdan: The Galahdan Kukri has two fangs (like on Libertus and Luche's uniforms) hanging off the pommel and has a somewhat normal shape. The sheath for the Galahdan kukri has two smaller blades, probably used to sharpen it and/or for utility (rather than martial) usage, based on its real-life counterparts. 

Insomnian: The kukri made in Insomnia has a dark spine which has a concave curve to it, so that there is a large blunt edge to across to the tip that makes it look almost like a hatchet. It has a series of beads hanging from the pommel instead of fangs. This is the kukri he throws at Tredd and the others when he cannot warp and that Libertus later finds.

Identifying marks: Nyx bears a lightning-patterned scar across his chest, originating in a knot on his right pec. It is unknown if this is actually a scar from lightning damage, as the popular image of Lichtenberg figures usually disappear within days if they occur at all, though, granted, it could be from the recent battle.

He also bears several characteristic tattoos: an arrow and dot on his right cheek near a scar, a dot and blade below his left eye, dots and lines along the shell and lobe of his right ear, a dot cuff around his left ear, two crossing lines down his throat, crossing lines above each shoulder blade, a cuff around his left forearm, a line down his left middle finger and right index finger from the cuticle almost to the last knuckle, and a cuff around his right leg halfway up the shin, and possibly more.

[[Screenshot courtesy of @starjunco]]

Personality: He is brave and loyal, respected enough in the Kingsglaive for King Regis to recognize him on sight. Nyx’s loyalty is well known to the Glaives and Regis, but it only goes so far, as seen when he pushes back against the Lucii and even Regis about the collateral damage from the plan to sacrifice Insomnia for Noctis. He is equally loyal to Galahd, given his plans to return to defend it.

He is known as the Hero of the Kingsglaive, though he seems to resent it, and seems to be rather well-respected by most of his fellow glaives, for the most part.

He disobeys the order to retreat to rescue Libertus. When questioned by Captain Drautos, Nyx tells him he holds the motto of the glaive “For Hearth and Home” over all other orders, so he wouldn’t leave a comrade behind. Disobedience seems to be not unusual behavior, but he also does not do it lightly, as he hesitates for a good while before going to Libertus’s aid to analyze the situation.

Nyx appears to favor silent contemplation to both intellectual and emotional puzzles. He works through his feelings regarding the treaty and Crowe's death in silence, and the puzzle of the tracking device for the most part, only reaching out to Pelna for help gathering information he can't otherwise get without telling him much about the situation, and not informing Luna of any of his theories regarding the tracker until they are proven. Similarly, he is quiet through Petra's taunts at the gate, enduring rather than fighting back.

He is far from stoic, however, quipping through battles and social interactions with memorable lines, and is willing to chew out anyone when push comes to shove.

Nyx suffers from PTSD related to his sister’s death. He experiences flashbacks hearing her call for help multiple times, including during the infiltration of the airship which causes him to miss a warp. Though his talk with Luna might show that he is willing to try to live on as Selena would want, he doesn’t get a chance to do much to prove that, and even after it he tells the Lucii that his life is “nothing”.

Relationships: He is from Galahd, where he and Libertus grew up together. His little sister Selena was killed during an attack on Galahd when he was 20. His mother was alive during the attack on Galahd, but her fate afterwards is not mentioned. The pictures on his corkboard hint at his father and/or uncle figure, as well someone who looks like Luche, who also hails from Galahd.

Nyx, Libertus, Luche, Crowe, and Pelna meet together after hours, which appears to be a fairly common occurrence. Pelna claims to owe him, and Crowe calls out for him when he goes back to save Libertus. His relationship with Libertus is more complicated, but obviously has a long history.

He looks up to King Regis and claims to owe him a debt, and is visibly worked up over his death despite Nyx's anger with him over the situation of the treaty. He obeys his final order, though whether that is from loyalty to Regis or Luna is unclear.

He was personally mentored by Captain Drautos, and seems to be on familiar terms with him, since Captain Drautos tells Nyx to not call him sir and he likely discussed his sister’s death with him, as he knows to bring it up in their final battle.

Despite his grief and his exasperation with her conviction and actions, Nyx warms to Luna fairly quickly, protecting her and working with her, and sharing his history with his sister as they hide.

Death: When Nyx arrives at Section D during the escape with Lunafreya, Luche shoots him twice with hollow point bullets. He is unable to stand from his injuries, but when Lunafreya tries to put on the ring, he takes it from her and puts it on instead. He asks the Lucii to call the Old Wall and protect the city, but they ask Nyx to sacrifice Libertus or Lunafreya for the power. Nyx refuses to sacrifice either of them, and instead barters his own life for the power of the Lucii. They grant Nyx use of their power until sunrise. Nyx uses the Lucii’s magic to defeat Glauca and give Libertus time to get Lunafreya out of Insomnia. At dawn, Nyx dies, burned by the Lucii’s magic.

When Noctis and company return to Insomnia, Nyx's legacy is shown in two items: his kukris carried by a psychomancer (possibly Nyx, possibly Drautos, possibly just a daemon who found them) and in the figure of his burned body in the throne room as part of Ardyn's decorations.

Behind-the-scenes: Nyx is voiced in English by Aaron Paul, best known as playing Jesse Pickman on Breaking Bad. (Break your heart with these clips of Nyx) He is voiced by Gô Ayano in Japanese, who is usually in front of the camera; this is his only credited role as a Voice Actor.

Johan Akaz (Johan Picard in the movie credits) Nyx's face model, is an actual model irl. French. His birthday is May 16, which has interesting applications if you want to use it for Nyx’s. A Model Fansite claims he is 6’0”/1.83m tall.

Neil Newbon was Nyx's mocap model, and also portrayed Petra (mocap and voice - this is part of the reason Nyx is so stoic in his scene with Petra, as his usual actor is occupied) and other roles. He has also been a Voice Actor for several video games (VA and mocap for Detroit: Become Human, among others) and acted more traditionally. IMDB and his sites claim he is 6’2”/1.88m and a trained martial artist. He now runs a company for training mocap actors.

Hope this helps! Let us know if we missed anything or messed up right and left again.

Good luck with Nyx Week and all your work.

[philliam-writes]

you are in the earth of me [05]

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Warnings: violence, death (minor character), ptsd and anxiety (but also sort of comfort)

Summary: Your name. He snarls your name; your name that is sharpened against the marble of his teeth like a weapon, a spark that rips into the marrow of your bones. Like a hook yanking you back into the present, the now. The fight leaves your body, you sag against the ground as you choke on adrenaline. And his—Lockwood’s nails dig deep, half-crescents of fire into your skin. “Come. Back.”

Notes: [01] || [04] | [06]

Words: 7k

A/N: a longer chapter cuz where i initially wanted to stop didn't feel like enough and i really wanted another cliffhanger. next chapter will be about reader's past and i can't wait to introduce you all to matthew. i also rlly enjoyed writing this (especially the whole possession bit, and after that it sort of turned meh). hope you guys enjoy!

05: carry whispers from the dead

You wake up hours before dawn, anxious and restless. The black bookshelves stand like dark, tall shadows around you, silent sentinels guarding you in your sleep. It’s the first time you’re alone with your thoughts; locking them away behind a brittle door works only for so long until they break out and descend like ravenous hyenas upon your despair.

Astonishing, how your whole life has turned upside down within two days. Working for Rotwell has never been your dream job, but it was secure, the payment always on time and there was prestige to it. If this is a sign to change professions, switch to a safer job with less risk to die a horrible death at the hands of ghosts and ghouls or any other occupational hazards, you’re blind to it.

Imagining yourself doing anything else than what you’ve done for more than a decade is near impossible—you’re good at getting rid of ghosts, swinging a rapier and chucking salt bombs across the yard with a sharp shooter’s precision. Anything else? Hopeless case. Your hobbies? None that you want to turn into a profession.

Freedom is a bitter, foreign taste, but one you know you will grow accustomed to. Getting your business running will have to wait though until you’ve solved the greater mystery. Into the dark, you draw the badge’s symbol with your index finger. Even with your eyes closed, you can still see it clearly, printed against the inside of your eyelids.

Why does it feel so familiar? Where have you seen it before? This feeling isn’t just curiosity; it is recognition and the profound desire to understand like hooks sitting deep beneath your skin.

Time trickles away, slowly like sand passing through an hourglass when behind the heavy dark curtains a slim sliver of grey grows as the world lightens. The house comes alive; wood creaks quietly as someone stalks downstairs. They pause in front of the library door, and you expect the door to creak open any second. But then they move back to the staircase, and down into the kitchen. You wait for a full minute before you get up, change into a new, fresh set of clothes and follow.

Morning light streams into the kitchen, softening every counter. When you enter the room, there is a voice talking—and then suddenly stopping. Lucy whirls around, her hands resting against the kitchen sink as she prepares to brew a pot of tea. Her eyes are wide, and then they pivot to something on the counter, something you haven’t seen until then. It’s a sealed silver-glass with a skull swimming inside the contained liquid. A skull menacingly cutting horrid grimaces your way.

Stopping mid-way to rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your eyes, you drop your arm. “That’s a Ghost-jar,” you notice, surprised. “You guys own a Ghost-jar?”

Lucy looks over—no, exchanges a glance with the skull inside the jar. Then she shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant as if that is nothing uncommon, but her shoulders are stiff. “It’s George’s,” she says quickly. “He’s erm … he’s doing research on it.”

“I thought only the big agencies have access to those.” You cross the kitchen to get a better look at it, bending down slightly so you’re eye-level. The skull manifests bits and pieces of flaky skin onto its bone, as though conjuring what it used to look like before it presses the masses of rotting flesh against the thick class, squashing its nose against it. “For something that’s dead, it seems very lively.”

Suddenly the skull stills. The skin peels back until it’s only bone, and the ectoplasm inside the jar flares in an ominous green light. You think it’s staring right at you, through you, even. Where its teeth stack neatly against each other, it moves them up and down, up and down as though . . .

“That’s funny. It looks as if it’s talking.” And then you remember a voice coming from the kitchen when you came downstairs. You look up at Lucy, brows furrowed. “Wait, were you talking to it?”

But Lucy is staring at you, a puzzled expression on her face. You’re sure your face must be a mirror of hers, because she couldn’t have had a conversation with the skull, right? She must have simply talked to it, like you talk to your pets when you’re alone with them and pretend as tough they understand you. Anything else would mean this is a Type Three ghost. Anything else would mean Lucy is able to hold a conversation with it and understand it. Something like this hasn’t happened since Marissa Fittes.

Lucy is relieved of an answer when her colleagues enter the sunlit kitchen, filling the tense silence between you with idle chatter. Your eyes draw involuntarily to Lockwood—this time not due to the early husky morning voice he unsuspectingly wields like a bludgeon, not knowing what effect it has on you, not because he just said “Stop sticking the skull inside the oven, George.”

You stare at Lockwood because this is the first time you see him not wearing his suit and tie, but a normal, plain, white T-shirt over grey sweatpants. It’s like seeing him without his armour, broken down to something so simple and casual, something so … intimate. The short sleeves end just under his shoulders, showing his arms which are . . . not particularly muscular, but he still fills out his shirt nicely. The neckline dips low against his collarbones, showing his long, elegant neck. He looks like any other boy—man, you think to yourself. Worse even, he looks exactly your type. You like to think of yourself as a very determined person, but nothing in the world can dissuade you from letting your gaze roam down his lean frame, and linger at this hips where his shirt hikes up to reveal a generous expanse of pale skin. Lower, against the grey fabric, there is a clear outline of—

“Let us know when you’re done.” George’s voice pounds like a sledgehammer against your eardrums. You whirl, stare at him staring at you staring at Lockwood, and hope the ground opens up under your feet and swallows you.

Lockwood locks eyes with you, and grins. A boyish, cheerful grin, showing the slightly pointy canines on either side of his teeth—which you find adorable. Why do you suddenly notice all these things about him? Maybe you need to plunge your head under the water tap to cool off. Or a nice punch to the jaw.

“Morning,” Lockwood says. “I see you’ve met our agency’s . . . mascot.”

The green light flares behind you, and when you look, the skull is spinning wildly in its jar, jerking up and down. You imagine if it could shake a fist at Lockwood, it would.

“Charming.” You clear your throat, making way for George who makes a face at you as if you’re an annoying fly that buzzes around his head. “Does it have a name?”

“We, uh . . . just call him Skull,” Lucy provides.

You look at the skull, which impressively manages to roll its eyes. Not that it has eyes. But you got the impression it is annoyed, which must be your imagination. This thing doesn’t understand you. “So you just hang out with it?”

“No, we—” Lockwood rests a pointed look on Lucy as he reaches for the jar and hefts it off the counter to store it inside a cupboard “—usually keep it away because it ruins George’s appetite. We’re no friends or comrades of ghosts.”

“Yeah.” George shuffles past you to put the kettle on. “It’s not like we can talk to it anyway. And it doesn’t talk to us. That would be weird.”

All three of you look at him as he sets four mugs on the counter, nailing the coffin shut with four distinct clings of porcelain on wood. You’re pretty sure they can talk to it, and it talks to them. That indeed is weird.

Breakfast is quickly done though you barely feel hungry, instead just push a lump of scrambled egg around the plate with your fork. It seems like any other day for the agents of Lockwood & Co. You watch Lucy take a huge bite off her avocado-egg-toast, and keep staring for a moment. From the other Rotwell girls you were used to seeing them taking dainty little bites out of their dishes, nibbling at them like soft baby rabbits.

There is nothing soft or delicate about the way Lucy eats. You feel your heart warm up to the sight, a knot in your stomach slowly untying until you relax into your chair.

When she notices your eyes on her, she pauses, even stops chewing as though you’ve caught her in a most horrible act. So you tear into a waffle drowned in maple syrup as if you’re a starving woman without any table manners. To your utter astonishment, Lucy begins to smile slowly, like the moon slipping slowly beneath the waves of a lake.

Now you wish you had agreed to her and George staying. After clearing the table to spread out everything they’d pack into their kit, watching Lucy and George ready and geared-up leaving through the front door after a few quiet words with Lockwood peels your nerves raw.

It shuts with a soft click, throwing the entrance hall in shadow, and then you’re all alone with Anthony Lockwood. A thought that sparks a shot of hot tingles crawling up your lower back, settling in your shoulders and turning the muscle harder than stone.

Lockwood, noticing how tense you’ve grown, draws slowly closer as if approaching a cornered animal. “It’s going to be fine,” he says, and for a moment it seems as though he’s reaching his hand up to—touch you? Place it on your shoulder to take some of the tension off? But then his hand changes course and settles at his neck where he rubs the skin under his jaw. “I—and Kipps—got you into this mess. I’m somewhat responsible for you now, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You are numb from tension. The word responsibility scrapes along your spinal cord like a jagged knife. “I’m nobody’s responsibility,” you say quietly. “Least of all yours.”

Lockwood leans away as though your words are a physical force pushing him away. You see his throat bob as he swallows, his lips pressed into a tight line. “Come on, Tony. Let’s get this over with while it’s not too bright outside.”

He doesn’t say anything but you have grown familiar with his displeased expression—pricked eyebrows, pursed lips, dark eyes unfathomable as though veiled by heavy dark curtains. You begin to understand why Kipps always riles him up; it’s kind of fun to see his composure crack, to get under his skin and see the restrain crumble—it makes him tense in all the right places.

“Wait here,” he orders and disappears back into the kitchen and through the cellar door. He thunders down a spiral staircase, and a moment later you hear a heavy iron door squeal open.

When Lockwood returns, a small iron box in his fist, he juts his chin towards the opposite door from the kitchen, meaning for you to follow. He leads you into the living room where you got patched up when you first arrived at Portland Row. He draws the heavy curtains shut, swallowing the room in shadow, then moves some furniture to the side, leaving the space in the middle of the room empty where he drags a single chair over and motions for you to sit down.

This is it. You take place trying not to look as if he’s asking you to sit in an electric chair to execute you. Lockwood towers before you, arms crossed, tapping his slender fingers against his biceps.

“You really don’t have to do it,” he says, surprising you again with how reluctant he is to go through with this plan. But what else can you do? You take your glove off quickly, like ripping off a band-aid before you can rethink your choice. Something so small and unremarkable like this key shouldn’t invoke so much terror and anxiety in you. It’s like a pair of hot tongues that if left unattended will burn a hole in the rug, but with nowhere to place, you don’t know how to get rid of it so you just have to hold and endure it. Instead of an answer, you hold out your hand, palm facing up.

Lockwood pauses, holds your gaze. “Ready?”

You’ll never be. But something about his dark eyes is like an anchor, and you stare at him, embossing the elegant lines and planes of his face into your mind and hope it will pull you back from wherever your mind will dive into in a second. You nod.

Lockwood takes your wrist gingerly, as if any hasty movement might draw you away. Not averting his eyes from you, he places the key into your open palm.

In that one second before your mind becomes blank, you think he pushes the rough pads of his fingers into your skin, a warm, solid weight in comparison to the ice-cold Source, but before you can wonder if it’s just your imagination, the world goes dark.

Touching is a lot like being suspended in water. Dark, murky water with no bottom, no surface. One moment you see your own face, and then it is another that you don’t recognise and then it just feels like drowning. The psychic whiplash pierces through you like a hot bullet. A roaring tide of emotions rolls over you, drowning you in overlapping echoes of the past.

Fury. Anger. Greed. But beneath all that, deeper than the roots of old trees: hopelessness. Fear.

Countless deaths and unspeakable violence is tied to this Source, but only the very recent was grave enough to tie a ghost to it—to have someone hold onto it with nails that now sink into your flesh and pull you down, down, deeper down as he claws his way back to the other side—your side, and you wonder Why, why, why and as you sink deeper, let your consciousness drop to the dark, bottomless pit, you find the answer inside a gnawing, razor-sharp maw that swallows you in one bite: Revenge.

The realisation pours like ice-cold water over your limbs; locks them tight, like a second skin stretching over yours—too tight, too cold; then too hot. Your heart shrinks to the size of a small, hard stone as the words pour from your mouth.

“It’s not fair,” you sigh. Your voice sounds strange, so feminine. Tears prickle behind your eyes. “It’s not fair, I worked for it. I went through Hell just to get it from this bloody Relic-man. It cost me a fortune, it almost cost me my life. My life.”

You have become lost to the world, a voice says, not yours, a girl’s voice, and you repeat it, in a sing-song voice, quietly, “I’ve become lost to the world.” It feels like something important is missing. “Ah, I wasted so much time.”

There’s sadness, but it isn’t a pitying sadness; it’s a larger sadness, one that seems to encompass all the poor striving people, the billions living their lives, a sadness that mingles with a wonder of awe at how hard humans everywhere try to live, even when their days are so very difficult, even when their circumstances are so wretched.

Life is so sad, you’d think in those moments. “Life is so sad,” you repeat out loud, “my life for that key, so many lives for that key and I did all those things, those things I did—”

“What is the key for?” a voice—a boy’s voice—asks.

You snap your eyes open. You’re in a living room, a small spacious one with comfy old furniture and curious things lining the walls. There’s a lanky boy staring at you, arms crossed. An iron rapier glints off from where it lies on a table, easily within his reach.

When you look down and see the key—the key for the box—the coldness in your chest doesn’t feel as suffocating.

“Oh.” You smile. “I thought—I thought I’d lost it. I thought I—”

You swallow. Your chest hurts, the coldness passing for hot, searing pain that makes breathing harder. Thinking harder. You scratch your arm, dig your nails deep into your soft skin. It’s an old habit, feeling like ants crawl all over your skin when you’re anxious—or is it his habit?

A sob tears through you as you try to force air into lungs crushed by grief. “I didn’t want—I didn’t mean to do all the things—BUT HE LEFT ME NO CHOICE!”

The boy reels back, hand swivelling towards the rapier. “Who?” he asks, his voice is raised and he looks spooked as if he can’t quite believe what is happening. You feel the same. You feel like something is trying to crawl its way out of your throat—black-ink in your throat wanting to spill out and tell and yield and become something (someone).

You press your fists into your eyes, hard. Why can’t you remember how you got here? Your head hurts, the ants—not the normal types, but fire ants—crawling all over your skin are on a death-march to put you under the ground and you need to get out, get out, get out—

—he needed to get out. The sounds of heavy boot slapping on pavement followed him all the way to Lee Tunnel. He thought Relic-men were an easy enough target, nasty people, ugly and disgusting like vermin beneath his boots, but nothing, and nobody, was ever easy when it came to money. And this was exceptionally Big money with capital B. No more debts, no more crawling in the dirt to beg for more time, more chances—he could finally move away with sweet Emily and build a new life after he split the profit. They dreamt of Italy, somewhere where the spring is warm and smells of the earth.

He just needed to get out and away and find— They were supposed to meet here, somewhere inconspicuous, somewhere nobody would ever expect to see esteemed—. The smell of foul sewage mixed with rainwater made him choke back on bile. Last time, this was the last time.

A blind end. He whirled around, all the way back then, but that’s when the Relic-man caught up to him, delivering a pipe right into his gut. He staggered down to his knees (not yet), sprawling on all four (not yet, not yet), spit blood onto the cold concrete ground. When he tried to get back up, the pipe came down again, hard, against his knee and he felt the bone shatter. He’s screaming (you’re screaming), and he presses a hand right against his pocket, that’s where he held the key, that’s where he held his future, but was this worth dying for?

They were supposed to meet here. So he screamed. A soundless scream (you’re no Listener after all), a wailing scream for someone that from childhood on, had been trained to respond to it. To rise from bed when he cried, to run to help him when he fell down (and you recognise this feeling as you crash into the ground—the ground is a mirror, a lake inside an ocean inside a world filled with turmoil, and you’re so, so scared, why is nobody holding you).

The first shot rang out. A heavy body fell on top of him, and grunting, he pushed it aside. The pain in his leg was excruciating now. Saved. He was saved by—.

Reaching into his inside pocket, he pulled out the small box with the key, rising to his feet under so much effort he felt like might faint from it. He lifted the box. He smiled.

The second shot rang out. His heavy body fell to the ground. He was confused. His chest hurt. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But nothing, and nobody, was ever easy when it came to money. Not even—, but how could he? How could he?

No more debts, no more crawling in the dirt to beg for more time, more chances; he won’t move away with sweet Emily and build a new life. Confusion. Betrayal was its own death by a thousand cuts.

He was aware—was drawing closer. He was aware of the rushing canals under the ground; the labyrinth-belly of a monster running beneath London. With trembling fingers, he opened the box. He picked up the key. That wretched, wretched key. His future. My life, he was thinking, my life. And then he threw it into the sewers.

There’s a hand around your wrist, shaking you. When the room comes back into sudden focus, the boy is looking at you, eyes wide. He looks almost frightened.

“Give me the key,” he says with an impatience to his voice as though this isn’t the first time he’s asking for it. You see red.

“No!” You jump to your feet, bearing your teeth. “Nobody except me can have it, it is mine!”

“No,” he replies, calmly. There is something about this voice, a part of you remembers, something calming and alluring like a cup of warm milk with honey. “This is not you. You are trapped in an echo, these are the Visitor’s feelings and memories. You need to let go.”

You look at him, a pressure behind your eyes wants to remember, wants to trust him. You shake your head. “No. Not again.”

The door is to your left and you charge for it, surprising the boy enough he lets go of your wrist—but you only make it a few steps before hands catch your arms in a vice-grip and he’s shouting a name—not his name, whose name is that, it’s a woman’s name.

You drop your head forward and then swing it back. There’s a crack when the back of your head smashes against his nose. He lets go, loses his balance and falls. Another step towards the door.

Again, his hand, this time around your ankle. The world spins as you fall to the ground, bracing for impact with your hands—don’t let go of the key, never let go of the key—your knuckles scrape along the rug as you twist your hand and kick out, but the boy is already on top of you, pushing you into the hard ground, your wrists next to your head as he pins you down.

“Look at me, hey— Look at me!”

You thrash around, shake your head, if only your hands were free you could curl your fingers around his throat and make him let go—

Your name. He snarls your name; your name that is sharpened against the marble of his teeth like a weapon, a spark that rips into the marrow of your bones. Like a hook yanking you back into the present, the now.

The fight leaves your body, you sag against the ground as you choke on adrenaline. And his—Lockwood’s nails dig deep, half-crescents of fire into your skin.

“Come. Back.” Two single words, punched out of him and hitting you deep in the gut. There’s blood, on his nose and lips, on his white shirt. You’ve never seen this expression on his face, his dark eyes are haunted, his cheeks hollowed as though he’s an empty shell.

“Lockwood,” you croak. He flinches, and something in his face changes. “Lockwood, why do you look like shit?”

Lockwood stares at you. Stares some more. His lips are slightly parted—he’s a mouth breather, you realise. And then he sags with relief, his head falling forward. His face disappears behind the fringe of his dark hair and you want to reach up and brush it away but he’s still holding you. You can feel your pulse hammering against his palms.

He lifts his head back up, eyes locking with yours. His right hand slowly moves to your clenched fist, fingertips grazing your skin and sending shivers up your arm to your spine. He taps against your curled fingers. Like a flower opening her petals, your fingers unwind from the key and he takes it from you.

Lockwood leans back, his body leaving your space. He settles on his heels, his chest rising and falling. His tongue quickly darts out, the tip running over his bottom lip and he flinches from the blood on his mouth.

You keep lying on the ground for another heartbeat, pressing your back harder into the surface to remind yourself this is your body. You’re in control. The memories are rushing back right about now, rising up your throat. You sit up in a rush, and stare at Lockwood who looks dead tired.

He only raises his eyebrows at your expression—seeing something waiting on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t speak around the words, choke on them.

“Matthew. Wake up, my brother. Please wake up.”

Your voice was insistent, and from childhood Matthew had been trained to respond to it. To rise from the bed when you cried, to run to help you when you fell down (is this your or the Visitor’s memory?).

“His brother.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “His brother killed him.” The words were out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Your breath catches, and a sharp pain cracks in your heart—perhaps the worst kind of all. And then you break down crying and you don’t care that you’re crying in front of Anthony Lockwood because how could he. How could he?

“So that’s how the key got into the sewer system and eventually landed at the flooded C Station. He did all that so it wouldn’t fall into his killer’s hands.” Lockwood reaches into the open package tucked between your and his thigh, pulling out a few dried apple rings.

You’re sitting on the living room’s floor, legs stretched out on the rug, backs leaning against the back of the sofa, arms pressed against each other. It seems possession from a psychic connection and nearly breaking his nose brings people closer than you’ve expected. Your mugs long cold, your eyes puffy and red from crying, you watch him press the cold compress against his face. He winces slightly when he turns to look at you.

“Sorry,” you say for the third time. “I wasn’t aware a Visitor could even do that.”

Lockwood waves you off. “Come off it,” he says. “That wasn’t you.”

“Well. Maybe I did feel a little satisfaction knocking you out like that.”

Lockwood grunts, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “We’ve had something similar happen to Lucy.” He drops his hand into his lap. He’s cleaned the blood from his face, but the collar of his shirt is still stained dark. “It was nowhere near this violent, but . . . I’ve seen it. And I still agreed to this. I shouldn’t have.”

“It was my decision.” You stare down at your gloved hands. Dried apple crumbs stick to the fabric. “And it did give us some answers.”

“But not where the key fits.” Lockwood nibbles on an apple piece. “Let’s hope Luce and George have more luck at the Archive.”

“And there’s still the matter of the man that attacked me. I think Karim might be right. He doesn’t necessarily have to be the killer.”

Lockwood chews on that for a moment. “You said he smelled of what? Liquor? What if he’s another Relic-man?”

“Tidiest Relic-man I’ve ever seen.” You scrunch your nose. “It was . . . something heavy. Whiskey, or rum, I’m not sure.”

“I can ask someone about that.”

“Ah, dragging someone else into this case? Good idea.”

Lockwood flashes you a bright grin—you categorise it as his signature Lockwood grin. “I’ve always been a big fan of the more the merrier.”

You tilt your head, your mouth slowly curling into a mocking curve.

Lockwood dips his head to you, and his voice is husky when he murmurs, “Thank you. For helping us out.”

You didn’t expect this. Heat crawls up your neck, but you have a hard time looking away from Lockwood’s dark eyes. He’s beautiful. The thought rattles like a marble inside your head, a pretty, shining marble that is very hard to catch.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” Your voice matches his volume, low and almost a whisper. “I’m doing this for personal benefits only.”

“I didn’t expect anything different from someone who’s worked for Rotwell.”

You smile at each other. It feels safe, it feels good. Professional. Which is why you ignore the weird flutter in your stomach, the treacherous feeling of hunger and more that is just the post-adrenaline settling. Maybe you should have a second breakfast.

Outside, the phone rings. Lockwood picks himself up, groaning slightly. When he leaves to pick it up, you inspect the marks he’s left on your wrist, from his nails, his fingertips, pretending you don’t like his imprints on your skin as though you’re a thing fashioned from a potter’s—his—hands.

When Lockwood returns, he leans against the doorframe, both hands tugged into the pockets of his trousers. “Luce just called. Seems like your little library pass didn’t just get them insight on the symbol, but also additional info on the case booked for tonight. George found new information that leads him to believe this might be a double haunting.”

That would prove more difficult for only two agents, especially if it’s not clear yet which Types the ghosts are. You think you know the question Lockwood is about to ask, so you beat him to it, “Want me to tag along?”

Lockwood smiles. It seems like a challenge. “I trust you’re capable of working in a team?”

You climb to your feet, using the sofa as support. “We’ve already been through this. We are in this together,” you echo back his words from the previous day. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.”

“Tragic.” Lockwood doesn’t sound as if he’ll lose sleep over this. “Meet you back here in fifteen. I’ll call a cab.”

You quickly finish the apple crumbs left in the package and hurry up to the library to change into your gear. A dark turtle neck, comfortable pants, and sturdy boots you’ll put on downstairs. You’ve put on your gear harness, arming yourself with everything you’ll need on the case in quick and easily accessible: one canister of Greek Fire, two vials of lavender water, a couple of salt bombs. In your kit are stowed your other utensils like different thermometers (depending on which one still works), a flash (you’re not sure when you’ve last changed the batteries), two chain nets (at least one is without holes), a long rope of iron chains (newly purchased). Last but not least, your rapier. The Solinger Rapier is a good piece of work, you can give Lockwood a little credit for that. It feels good to be ready and in gear, you feel like donning your armour isn’t just a physical thing but putting your mind into a high-defence vault too.

If you think too much back on what you’ve seen in the Visitor’s memory, it’ll shake you up again, and just for the rest of tonight, you want to be a functioning agent doing your job.

Grabbing your kit, you vault back downstairs where you find Lockwood in the kitchen refilling the last of his salt bombs. He’s changed as well, wearing his signature suit and a long trench-coat. His socks peek out from his slippers, a bright pink.

“Take some of those,” he says without looking at you, nodding towards the counter. There’s gum, chocolate barns, cookie bags and a box full of tea bags. You stuff the cookies and tea bags into your kit. Lockwood stashes the rest when the door rings. “And that’s our ride.”

There’s an energy you feel strumming in his bones as though he’s a high-strung fuse read to blow. He turns around—and stops. Lockwood just stares. He stares at your uniform, which isn’t really a uniform because you don’t wear a jacket anymore. He seems particularly interested in the gear harness hugging your upper body, sitting snugly around your shoulders, your chest, your shoulder blades.

You raise your eyebrows to your hairline. “Everything all right, Tony?”

Lockwood clears his throat. “Please stop calling me that.” You might be wrong, but it looks like he’s a little flushed. Maybe all the blood he’s lost from his nose injury earlier is finally rushing back to his head.

“Why, you don’t like being called Tony?”

“I really, really don’t.” He takes his kit and moves to the entry hall, putting on his shoes. You follow and mirror him. “Why? Because of Kipps?”

“Because of my sister.”

You almost topple over. You didn’t know he has a sister, and Kipps has never mentioned her either—and that’s not strange at all, lots of people have siblings. What makes you pause is the way Lockwood said it. He makes it sound as though having a sister is tragic.

When you look at him, his expression is already a shut door, his eyes closed windows. He will not say anything more on that subject, his whole body language makes that pretty clear: he’s drawn a line and he drew it hard, using it as a blueprint to build a brick wall. Whatever door he feels like building in, only he has the key and you don’t think he’ll allow you back in anytime soon.

You wonder if he accidentally slipped up. If he said something he wasn’t planning on saying, and now he regrets it. He regrets that you know.

It’s like the last two hours didn’t happen when you found some sort of solace in each other after the Visitor possessed you. You’re used to rejection, but this still tastes bitter. This tastes like a whole bloody basket of lemons turning your whole mouth inside out.

So you don’t say anything, just follow him outside and into the cab where Lockwood gives the driver clipped instructions where to go. The car speeds off, the silence between you stretches on and settles like an unwanted animal scratching at the closed door between you. You wonder what happens if the door splinters and the creature creeps inside.

Through the late afternoon streets where the citizens deal with their last errands and the city sidewalks begin to thin out of people. Curfew is in another two hours. Soon, only agents and ghosts will roam these streets. The cab halts near Bermondsey station. Lockwood pays the driver and turns sharply to the meeting point. You trudge along. Years previously, when Bermondsey was a centre of industry instead of a trendy neighbourhood full of art galleries and coffee shops, the Crawford Ironworks were a textile factory. Now it is an enormous brick shell whose inside has been emptied and left vacant. The floor is made up of overlapping squares of rusty steel; slender steel beams arc overhead, wrapped with ropes of grimy black wires. Ornate wrought iron staircases spiral up to catwalks decorated with hanging plants. A massive cantilevered glass ceiling opens onto a view of the steel-grey sky. There is even a terrace outside, built out over the Thames, with a spectacular view of the Tower Bridge, which looms overhead, stretching from Bermondsey to Whitechapel like a spear of tinselled ice.

Lucy and George are sitting on the main iron staircase, their conversation is too quiet to hear when you approach. They don’t seem surprised you’ve joined their case, but you don’t miss George’s eyes squinting behind his glasses when he sees you.

“I heard you found something,” you say, holding out your hand to George who reluctantly gives back your library pass. “Hope you had fun while it lasted, Karim.”

He mutters something under his breath. Lucy juts her elbow into his side. “The Leviathan’s Cross,” she says aloud, pausing, you think, for dramatic effect. “Ever heard of that?”

Lockwood and you exchange looks. You both shake your heads. You ignore your heart stumbling over itself. The symbol is familiar, but the name is not.

George’s eyes pin Lockwood to the wall. “They’re something like our dear Orpheus Society.”

“Ah.” Lockwood straightens his impeccably straight tie. “And I assume there was no address? No membership list, no picture of the CEO and their phone number?”

George rolls his eyes. “Don’t try to be funny, it never works.”

You raise your hand like a little kid at school. “What’s the Orpheus Society?”

George, Lucy, and Lockwood hold a full silent conversation with their eyes and facial expressions only. In the end, Lockwood says, “You know, let’s save this for later and get the job done first. After that, we can pour all our resources into figuring out what we’ve learnt.”

“Fair enough.” You clap your hands, rub them together in anticipation for an evening out doing what you do best. “Where did you set up base?”

 Command centre, as George likes to call it, is in a former employee kitchen alcove tugged right between two open-plan offices that take up both floors above the main hall. Lucy is cleaning up the empty mugs after you all had tea while George and Lockwood fill you in on the job, explaining that a couple of days ago the owner of this factory (a small man with a slim face reminding them of a rat) asked for their services. He plans to sell the compound, but it’s always been haunted and he needs to get rid of the ghosts before handing the building over.

“At least one ghost was definitely seen on the top floor by the night watch,” George says between two ravenous bites into his cookie. “Worker’s garb, they hear machines going off at night, and there are two cold spots up there. I think the ghosts manage to work in shifts. That’s why everyone thought it’s just one.”

“That’s impossible,” you say, breaking off another piece of chocolate with your teeth. “They’d have to be intelligent to work out something like changing when one appears and the other doesn’t. Ghosts don’t care for that, they haunt simultaneously.”

George raises both hands. “I don’t make the rules.”

“But you research all this, you should get your facts straight.”

“Want to bet? When we’re up there, just start screaming when two ghosts start killing you, OK?”

“It’s not impossible,” Lockwood chimes in. He spends the time until evening falls with a crossword book spread over his lap, his tongue tucked between his teeth. You focus on any part of his face except his mouth. “Remember the two Spectres we got down in Lambeth? Someone put their bones together and when one stirred, the other came back too.” Your eyes land on Lockwood’s crossword puzzle, which he is poorly hiding, and you see that he isn’t solving the puzzle but merely colouring in the empty boxes.

“It’s almost time we go up.” Lucy looks at her watch. “Sun’s setting.”

“All right.” Lockwood slaps the book closed happily, flicking his pen into his kit. “We’ll go up and measure the temperature first, place our iron chains and put up defence rings.” He stretches, that high-strung energy back. You get the feeling if Lockwood isn’t on a case or his mind not occupied with solving a problem, he might combust from all that need to act; to do something.

You’ve got everything you need when you notice Lucy hauling a hefty, bulky backpack onto her shoulders, readjusting the straps.

“Looks heavy,” you notice. “They’re not forcing you to carry all the equipment, are they?”

“No, it’s—” She shakes her head as if trying to shake off cobwebs. “I just like to be double careful. Better have one iron chain more, you know?”

You nod. That makes sense.

All geared up and ready, George leads you past the inoperable lift to the staircase at the end of hallway. He opens the doors and you fill into a rectangular room that you think might have been pearly white once, but years of decay and neglect have darkened the walls. Huge dark rings from water damage stretch like growing mould alongside the iron staircase that you ascend to the upper floor.

Lockwood stops at the door, turning towards you and Lucy. “Ladies, if you don’t mind.” He puts his hand on the handle and pushes it down but doesn’t open the door yet. “I think your Talents might be more useful than mine.”

Lucy and you exchange a look. She nods towards Lockwood, and he slowly swings the door open. Lucy ventures inside, you hard on her heels. You can immediately tell she zones out right then and there, trying to pick up any psychic auditory echoes. You put your gloved fingers to the wall, brushing along the crumbling masonry. Dried, dusty mortar sticks to the tip of your fingers. Exhaustion washes over you, tiredness from overwork, from a general unhappiness of working too hard, working too long but it’s never enough, never enough. If you could sum it all up it would be a feeling of depression, a hopelessness settling deep into your bones.

Unease pokes its crooked finger into your stomach, stirring its contents. Misery. One wave, then another—much deeper, a twin echo that doesn’t quite feel the same. The second echo hits deeper, plummets steeper, the sudden realisation that someone who has been part of your life is gone and why would you remain in a world where they are not?

You rip your hand back from the wall, and slowly turn to George.

“Karim.” You voice is nothing but a whisper. “What did you say those ghosts were? To each other, I mean.”

George scratches his belly under his shirt. “I didn’t. But nice of you to ask. They were twins.”

Taglist: @helpmelmao, @simrah1012, @chloejaniceeee, @fox-bee926, @frogserotonin, @obsessed-female, @avelinageorge, @quacksonhq, @wordsarelife, @bilesxbilinskixlahey, @che-che1, @breadbrobin, @anxiousbeech, @charmingpatronus, @starcrossedluvr, @yourunstablegf, @grccies, @sisyphusmymuse, @ettadear, @a-candle-maker, @cassiopeiia24, @tangledinlove

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[genieofthebooks]

Sorry for bothering but can I request please a fanfic of Kent x reader where reader always sends gifts to Kent when he is hurt or to cheer him up since the reader is shy to talk to him directly she sends it anonymously. One day the reader plucks up courage thanks to the advice of Enid and Yoko and decides to send him a love letter and slip it under his door since he could not bear to see Kent's face if he rejected it at that moment. Thanks a lot for everything you do and I hope you are having a nice day UwU

Gardenias

A/n: I hope you like it and I hope I did the Idea Justice. Reader is a Flower Nymph so her powers relate to nature.

Gardenia's signify secret love but also say 'You are lovely'

Pairing: Kent x Fem!Nymph!reader

Also reader has no description just called beautiful. Also pointy ears.

Warnings: Kissing (is it one I don't know)

Dawn was in its phase, the fresh smell of dew on the grass and the crisp spring air hitting your lungs just right made you smile and close your eyes at the peacefulness. An embroidery hoop was resting in your lap with a piece of white fabric that had waves and different species of fish on it, You were halfway through the main ocean wave in the centre of the fabric your fingers skillfully making patterns in the fabric with the needle. Whenever Kent gets hurt or sad you always make him a gift to see his eyes light up even more and the smile to be brought back on his face. That is why you are making him a buch of embroidered symbols that will be turned into badges that he could wear on his uniform because he had somehow aquired a black eye during the poe cup.

Only your two best friends, Enid and Yoko knew of your creative talents, so when Kent got his first gift that was a woven cup holder in the shape of sewead they knew it was you and were always convincing you to profess your love for him but everytime you came in contact with him you couldn't speak to him only growing flowers that fell to the floor when you ran away.

Kent was always confused at why you were scared of him because he thought you were one of the most beautiful people to walk through nature with a flower crown always in your hair and your school uniform that was modified to a sage green where the blazer had different flowers embroidered on the sleeves. He loves you but with your skitterish nature whenever he is around makes him wonder if you don't like him back.

A shadow cast over you, which by the long hair and the built frame you immediately knew it was Kent so you quickly grew flowers over your project in hopes that he wouldn't see it.

"Y/n, What are you doing up this early"

"Watching nature change from day to night, flowers waking up and birds to start filling the air with the song"

"Huh"

Kent sat down next to you finally glad he could talk to you without you running away. The yellow sunlight was shining on half of your face where the pink crown you picked out today was higlighted on your skin.

"Have you always been this poetic"

"Only in the mornings"

He smiled to himself at how at peace you seemed in the middle of nature with no one around but he noticed how when he arrived you started to fiddle with the hem of your skirt and how your breath was getting slightly shallow.

"Are you okay?" He asked peering at you with concern but you only hated that even more.

"Um yes, uh, please excuse me"

You picked up your basket and the bundle of fabric you had in your hand and ran off back to the school where you ran into your dorm that you shared with Yoko. Enid was sleeping over and you woke them up as soon as you ran into the room as a frenzy. "I messed everything up" You slid down the door and mumbled it into your hands the flowers on your crown were wilting because of your sadness.

Enid and Yoko shared a look but they both came and sat next to you and wrapped their arms around your shaking shoulders. "What happened"

"I was making him a gift to cheer him up after he got the black eye in the poe cup in my favourite field and he showed up I said a few words to him, he called me poetic but then my anxiety got the best of me and I freaked and ran back to Nevermore"

Enid nuged your shoulder with her own. "He obviously likes you as no one in their right mind would wake up this early and he called you poetic"

Yoko placed her hand on your knee. "N/n why don't you write him a letter, tell him how you feel"

"But what if he laughs and rejects me when I give it too him"

The three of you sat in silence thinking of what you could do when Enid Suddenly gasps "You could slide it under his door and leave a clue that his secret lover is you"

"That actually might work"

"Hey!"

The three of you collapsed into laughter trying to stifle it so you didn't wake anyone else up but that failed and you were all just laughing forgetting what was so funny in the first place. Yoko was the first to sober up and pulled you up, leaving a giggling Enid rolling around on the floor. "You are going to write it now and we will come with you after so you can put it under his door, after lessons"

Yoko pushed you towards your desk that was filled with plants and flowers and ripped an old page out of her old diary and brought over your books that had flowers pressed in between the pages. She dropped them on the table with a thud, you picked out a gardenia and placed it into the note after you had written it.

"It is done"

"We are acting like you sold your soul to the devil"

"Enid, not the time"

The three of you snuck over to the boy's dorm room, you and Yoko being quiet while Enid was humming the mission impossible theme. You would have laughed if you weren't filled with anxiety at the worse possible outcome this idea could have. Ivy was winding itself around your arms and into your hair as your heart was racing faster and faster as you were getting closer to your destination. Once you were outside his door, you spun round to the other two where Enid was bouncing on her heels in excitement while Yoko was trying to keep her from making too much noise.

"I don't think I can do this"

Yoko ripped the letter out of your hand and slid it under the door and pulled you and Enid outside with no hesitation.

"Now we just wait"

And wait you did, you went into the greenhouses to distract yourself until dinner where you would find out if Kent got your love note.

Kent walked into his dorm that he shared with Ajax when a folded up piece of paper with a white flower attached to it caught his eye. He knelt down to pick it up when he saw his name in perfect calligraphy with ink. He immediatley knew it was from you as you were the only one still using a quill and Ink to write instead of a pen. He unfolded the note with gentleness afraid to break it.

Dear Kent,

This probabbly won't work but to Enid and Yoko's insistence I have Finally decided to do this.

I love you

I love how you always seem happier after you have been swimming, the sparkle in your eye when Divina mentions a memory of something you two did when you were kids. I love how you talk to me in lessons even when I never said a single word to you because I was scared. I was scared of embarrassing myself in front of you even though my flowers seem to be able to do that on their own.

I Love you Kent.

You don't have to love me back, If you don't just set fire to it and don't mention anything.

Your Flower

Love, Y/n.

Kent stood up with a smile on his face and ran out of the room, running past Divina who came to collect him for dinner, she stared at her twin brother like he had lost his head but just shrugged and walked back to Bianca and Yoko, who explained everything to them. Once the two sirens were caught up they grabbed Enid and Ajax and watched the events play out from afar.

He ran towards the green houses where he knew you would be at during this time. When he got there he leant against the glass door frame admiring your focused face as you nursed a plant back to life with a spray bottle in your hand. The light reflected through the glass and projected a rainbow on your hair which held an array of flowers and leaves, the flower crown you were wearing was gone, the way flowers grew from your hair and Vines wrapped themselves around your arms and torso made you look ethereal in his eyes.

Making his presence known by clearing his throat which startled you and in a reaction you sprayed water in his face.

You cringed. "I am so sorry" You tried to wipe his face with your hands but vibes started to grow around your hands. You flushed in embbarassment and tried to hide your hands behind your back but he gently grabbed a hold of your wrist and lifted it up and pressed a kiss to your palm.

"You don't have to hide"

Kent lowered your hand and pulled you closer to him and he placed his other hand cradling your face where he felt the point of your ear and the Gardenia that grew just above his hand.

He smiled softly at you and before you know it he was leaning down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. He lifted his head but was stopped by you tugging him back down engaging you both into a passionate, love-filled kiss all of your hidden emotions were poured out into this kiss. You both pulled away from the kiss panting but you rested your forheads on each others and stared into the others eyes, neither of you wanting to break this moment.

However that moment was broken by a squeal from an overly excited werewolf who couldn't contain her Joy that her best friend had finally confessed her love.

[ivanttakethis]

Before Round 7 - Cassio’s Log

Daiki (?) vs. Tallis (?) - ??? Win

————————————————————

The knock at the door came early the next morning.

Dawn had barely broken the horizon. The sky was a lovely shade of pewter and the brightest stars were still visible.

Cassio slipped on their silk robe and forced a gentle smile onto their lips as they opened the front door.

Two AREPH agents stood shoulder to shoulder, dressed in all black with their trademark silver badges.

The agents looked more like mercenaries than investigators.

They recognized the taller one on the right as the agent who interviewed Tov back in Anakt Garden following Solei’s disappearance.

“Oh, hello.” Cassio injected surprise into their tone, as if they hadn’t been expecting them for several hours.

If anything, they were late.

“Guardian Cassiopeia?” The unknown agent on the left asked. Although they spoke Aurusian, Cassio could immediately tell they were not.

They cringed internally at the use of their full name, but nodded. “Please, just Cassio is fine.”

The unknown agent nodded once in return. “Very well, Guardian Cassio. I’m Agent Irin, and I believe you’ve met my partner Agent Pol before.”

“Ah yes, from that interview back in Anakt Garden.” They looked to Agent Pol. “How can I help you?”

“We’d like to speak with Subject-020547—”

“Tov.” Cassio interrupted. They abhorred anyone calling Tov solely by her ID number. “Her name is Tov.”

Agent Pol looked shocked for a fraction of a second, before returning to her neutral expression. She tried again. “We would like to speak with Tov. Is she available?”

“She’s still sleeping. The events of last night’s round were very hard on her heart.” Cassio knit their brows together, an imitation of concern and confusion. “What is this all about?”

“The security breach at Alien Stage caused by Subject-030718, leading to the escape of Subject-028812.” Agent Pol said.

Of course.

“We understand that Subject— pardon me, Tov, was close to Subject-030718 prior to their disappearance from Anakt Garden. Given their reemergence, we hope Tov could answer a few questions for us.”

So you want to interrogate her?

Cassio’s smile tightens. “As I told you before, Agent Pol, Tov doesn’t know anything else beyond what she’s already shared.”

Agent Pol didn’t seem to like that answer. She pressed her lips into a thin line, “And you’re certain of this?”

“What are you implying?” They asked, eyes narrowed.

“If the AREPH finds out that your pet has been withholding information — about this attack on Alien Stage or Subject-030718’s escape from Anakt Garden — she will be imprisoned for aiding and abetting a terrorist.” She said. “And if it is revealed that you knew she was hiding something, you would face the same charges.”

Cassio scoffed. “I’ve worked for Alien Stage for years. If I thought for even a moment that my human was withholding information about an attack on the competition, I would’ve turned her in already.”

“So you hold no pet-human rights sympathies?”

These questions grated on Cassio’s nerves. They resisted pinching the bridge of their nose to ease the blooming headache. “No, I do not. I wouldn’t have bought Tov if I did.”

“A lot can change in 20 years.” Agent Pol said. Cassio did not appreciate her tone.

“Is this going somewhere, agent?” They asked tersely. “Because if not, I have to prepare for Round 7. Time is money in my industry.”

“Just a few more questions.” Agent Irin interjected. Cassio turned the full force of their glare on him.

He’d said so little in the conversation, they were beginning to wonder why he even came along at all.

“Get on with it then.” They said, their tone dangerously clipped.

“What does Tov’s day usually look like?” He asked.

“Most of the time she’s either with me at work or at home.” Cassio said.

“Does she go out alone often?”

“No.”

“Has she ever expressed a desire for more freedom than what she currently is allowed?”

“No.”

“Has she recently been in contact with anyone unknown to you?”

“No.”

“And where has Tov been during the Alien Stage rounds?”

“Round 1 and Round 2 she was at home, as was I. For Round 3, she accompanied me to the competition to get a feel for how the production of her round would play out.” They said. “Unfortunately, she suffered a cardiac event while there and I had to bring her home. She’s spent Round 4, 5, and 6 here while I was working the production.”

“Do you know for sure that Tov was home during Round 6?”

Cassio nodded. “I do. When the power was cut, the broadcast stopped as well. Tov called me from the house phone to make sure I was alright.”

“And final question, do you trust Tov?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Cassio looked to Agent Pol with a raised eyebrow. “Are we done here?”

Agent Pol visibly bristled. “We are.” She ground out. “Though I would suggest having your pet’s trustworthiness tested, just to be safe.”

Cassio smiled, flashing their sharp, canine-like teeth. “And I would suggest the AREPH focuses on finding the two contestants it let escape Alien Stage instead of harassing me and my human about its failures.” They said. “Have a good day.”

They shut the door before either agent could say anything else.

Come back with a warrant next time.

————————————————————

Oh ho ho, a bit of a twist this time! I wanted to write from Cassio’s POV at least once and this was the perfect chance to do it 😁

I’m currently working on a log from Tov’s POV as a follow up for this one.

She’ll be heading back to the competition for the first time since the end of Round 3!

The Agency for the Recovery of Escaped Pet Humans (AREPH) belongs to @lookatmysillies!