#HEIST GONE WRONG

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Sticky Situation- Part 8

Part 7

@laffy-taffy-creations I'm tagging you because you're gonna wanna read this!

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"I'm in," Hero said, "what now?"

"Take a left at the end of this hallway," Assistant's voice crackled in Hero's earpiece.

Hero did as they were told. They crept through Organization's maze of corridors while Assistant instructed them from their makeshift computer setup in their car.

"You should be reaching the central cortex," Assistant said, "do you see a pair of doors with a keypad?"

Hero saw them, along with two long shadows. They ducked behind a wall as two henchmen passed. They waited until their footsteps faded, then approached the doors.

“Yep,” Hero said.

“Okay,” Assistant continued, “punch in code 4-4-8-3.”

Hero did that, and the doors slid open with a whooshing sound. Hero entered the central cortex.

“Now what, Assistant?”

Hero was only greeted by crackling and static.

“Assistant?”

Hero put a finger to their earpiece.

“Assistant, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t think they can hear you.”

Hero’s blood ran cold- colder than usual. They turned to see Supervillain approaching them as two henchmen closed the double doors, locking them inside.

“You did very well,” Supervillain praised, “you reached the central cortex much faster than I thought you would.”

Before Hero could move, they felt a pinch in their neck. A numbness began to spread throughout their entire body. The two henchmen caught Hero before they could crumple to the ground. They deposited them in a chair covered in restraints. The henchmen started strapping Hero in, though it really wasn’t necessary, as whatever Hero had just been darted with made them unable to move at all.

“Now that I have your attention, Hero, I have a question for you,” Supervillain said, “how much do you know about beekeeping?”

Hero blinked. That… was the last thing they were expecting to hear.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Hero asked.

“Just answer the question.”

Hero knew by now not to test Supervillain.

“I, uh, beekeepers take care of the bees?”

“Honeybees to be specific.” Supervillain amended, “Apis mellifera Linnaeus, or, the honeybee, is a remarkable little insect. Like humans, they are a eusocial species. Unlike humans, however, honeybees are known to have swarm intelligence, also known as a hive mind. This collective mentality allows the colony to thrive and keep the hive running. The most important bee is of course, the queen bee. She has the power to determine every action of the hive, via pheromones that only she can secrete. It’s the beekeeper’s job to make sure that the hive has a good queen.”

Supervillain paused, smiling to themselves.

“The bees crave subjugation you see. Much like humans. Without a leader, the colony would die. Without control, the colony would cease to operate. This would of course cause environmental collapse and the ramifications of that would likely be irreversible. Therefore, control is life-sustaining, but resistance is unequivocally destructive.”

Hero glared; they weren’t sure what Supervillain was getting at, but they were definitely sure that it wasn’t good.

“The only issue is… humans don’t know what they crave. They keep trying to find what’s missing, all the while resisting what would satisfy them. That’s where you come in.”

Supervillain turned to the giant computers in front of them. They typed in a code, pulling up the plans to create an army of cryogenically enhanced super-soldiers.

“I am the beekeeper, you see, and you, Hero, are the queen I have chosen. With your powers, I will send my worker bees to assimilate the rest of the world into the hive.”

Hero’s eyes went wide. This is why Supervillain wanted them the whole time.

“Get them ready,” Supervillain said, “and bring Assistant. We’ll need to start human trials soon after all.”

Another dart was injected into their neck, and Hero’s world went dark.

Part 9

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[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Nanami, Ijichi and Nitta foil a bank robbery with a cursed twist ...

Genre: Suspense

Contents: Canon-typical violence, foul language, reader character narrator, reader perspective of sorcerers.

He’d never signed up for this.

When he’d joined, Ueno had gone on about the fun they’d have, the risk, the high of getting away with things like this. It was a release, a way to escape the drudgery of his long shifts at the convenience store and the hollow-eyed, resentful presence of his mother at home. If that place could even be called a home.

In the beginning, they’d just wandered the brightly lit streets of nighttime Shinjuku, vandalizing the shops Ueno’s boss had told them to target, getting into scuffles with rival gangs, keeping an eye on the activities of people of importance. Each time he’d left home, the door would swing shut behind him like the unseen gateway to another realm. The street before him would be familiar, but not, the night air crisp with possibility. He’d never been aware of the perilous web being woven around him, of the fact that none of these jaunts were disjointed activities, each with their isolated goal.

And now he was here, in the back of a dark blue minivan with no windows, the humid damp of the balaclava he wore sticking to his face, making breathing difficult. He couldn’t do this. He’d never known they would ask him to – but there was no time for that. No time to think about the number of times he shouldn’t have walked out that door, the number of times he should have turned Ueno down, the many, many nights he should have decisively put an end to any and all association with the present company.

They were crowded in on all sides, shoulder to shoulder, the cramped space filled with the smell of sour sweat, cheap cologne and the heavy funk of strong tobacco. These men would have no patience for a boy who backed out, even if he said he was young and stupid and regretted everything he’d done. They were wily, experienced, razor-edged and slick with survival instinct. There was no way out for him, not now.

The power of his fear roots him in place, even as his body rebels, his muscles catch and quiver, his breathing hitches sporadically and his bowels cramp and protest. If only … if only he were someone else, someone more equipped to deal with this. If only something, anything, would take over his body and mind, just for tonight. If only something would come along and turn him into the man he should be in this situation; fearless, aggressive, raring for battle, a spitting cobra rearing for a shot between the eyes. But he was not any of those things.

And they were on their way to rob a bank.

You'd made it something of a game over the years. Each person that swam into view in the window of your counter formed a portrait of an unknown life, one you tried your best to embroider.

Head, shoulders, knees and toes, just like the song you used to sing in elementary school. What would the shifting window bring you today?

Ah, here was a grandmother, feeble and infirm. Collecting her pension fund and rambling about her three adult children, including her son who was staying for the month. Most of that pension probably ended up in his pocket.

And here was the man who came every Tuesday since three months ago. Sweating, nervous, smelling faintly of cheap perfume. You'd bet your whole salary that each trip to the bank was followed by a sharp detour out the door to the seedy motel nearby.

Then, the antique shop owner, the family name a well-known one in the area. Pity his father gambled most of their inheritance away. Everyone knew that he lived in the once-fabled traditional home, now dilapidated and infested with mould, a Havisham who rotted beside his antiques in the wedding dress of former renown. His cash withdrawal was minimal, enough to feed him for a week at a time.

Today was spectacularly ordinary. As a financial services representative at this particular branch for an odd five years now, you'd come to recognise your usual patrons, along with the occasional tourist or visitor who'd pay a once-off visit. These were usually recognisable by their clothing, or accents.

Here were two such individuals right now. You'd definitely never seen them before. The man looked to be in his late twenties, wearing the harried, hollow-cheeked look of someone much older. His dark hair was neatly parted, a pair of rectangular spectacles enhancing the earnest, studious nature of his face.

Beside him was a girl with bright blonde hair in an untidy bob. In severe contrast to the man's sober, dark suit, she wore a pair of baggy black jeans, a crop top and oversized jacket, unzipped, over it all. The glitter eyeshadow she wore only served to emphasize her thousand-yard-stare and she looked you up and down appraisingly.

Oh. It was time to adjust to your customer service face. Feeling the stiff muscles of your lower jaw stretch into a wide, practiced smile, you bowed slightly.

"Good day. How may I be of assistance?"

"Ah, I'd like to open an account for my niece here. She's starting college next year and just landed a new job to help pay things off. A flexi-save option would be nice."

"Of course! Mister ...?"

"Ijichi. And my niece here is Miss Nitta."

"Pleasure to meet you."

You turn to the girl in question, eyebrows raising in slight query.

"Would you like to have a look at our options? There are varying interest rates with different benefits to each type of savings account you can open."

She shrugged with the kind of nonchalance that could only come with long practice.

"Uncle's handling all that. I just do the legwork and get my shit together. That's the deal."

Wow. The youth of tod -

You clear your throat and turn to your PC screen, avoiding the errant thought that had come dangerously close to leaping out of your mouth.

"Of course. Give me a minute."

The fairly youthful uncle nods, adjusting his glasses. He looks slightly tense, the poor thing. You would too, if you were planning the financial future of a niece like this. You wondered if he took care of her full-time.

The niece, Nitta, was focused elsewhere, eyes roaming across the high-ceilinged atrium, the neat and ordered rows of seats where clients waited for service, the row of reinforced glass windows that gave way to many small booths like your own.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her glancing in one particular direction more often than not. Following the path of her gaze, your own is arrested by the sight of a tall blonde man in a dark suit, red patterned tie vivid against his white shirt. He stands in the queue of a neighbouring window, eyes inscrutable behind dark lenses.

Well, you could hardly fault her for looking at that. He has a stern, cold face, but his chiseled features and imposing stature make him hard to look away from. Speaking of which, you had a job to do.

Turning back to your screen, you complete the series of prompts, until you're finally within the authorized programme for creating a new account.

"All right, can I see some identifica- "

A scream tears through the still peace of the atrium, carving a sudden flaw in of the passage of time. In that moment, you do not think, you do not feel, and your body seems foreign to you. A group of people, dressed in black, waving weapons that were definitely acquired illegally, charge into the open space. Still frozen, you watch as they move like an oil spill across the room, smooth, practiced, herding the panicking crowd with sharp, barked commands and prods of their weapons.

Ijichi and Nitta duck down immediately, and you vaguely hear the bespectacled man shouting at you to do the same. Finally, dragged against the opposing current of shock, your body responds to your wishes. Dropping boneless to your knees, you reach up, fumbling for the panic button beneath your desk.

You press and hold, releasing after 20 seconds. Your mind still hasn't fully caught up with what is occurring, but your body is guiding you through the motions, stilted and half conscious.

The gang that has infiltrated the banking hall seals the doors. One of the burly men is obviously the leader, standing at the centre of the chaos while his lackeys form a co-ordinated chain of carried instructions, the spokes of a turning wheel. One of the gang comes right up to your counter, screaming instructions across to you.

You are still slow to respond, but panic has now asserted itself and you let out a sob of a breath, scrambling to raise your hands above your head and stand as he tells you to. You, and the rest of the employees behind the safety of the barrier, are forced at gunpoint to open up the inter-leading door, flocking out among whimpers, soft pleas and muffled cries to the atrium floor where you are made to lie down along with the rest of the crowd.

You find yourself near Ijichi and his niece, Nitta. You meet his eyes with a blank, stricken stare, mouth half opening in an apology, before you realise how stupid and pointless such a thing would be. How could you have known? You still can't quite grasp what is happening all around you.

Strangely enough, it is Ijichi who counters your disoriented glance with a square sense of reassurance. There is something ... different about him. He seems surprisingly calm, a far cry from the nervousness he showed earlier while opening a bank account for his niece, of all things. The niece in question is also unusually collected, her body coiled with the readiness of physical conditioning. That isn't a normal response to this situation, you're sure of it. She's too young to -

But there isn't time to speculate on this. The gang is rushing behind the tills, one of the managers held at gunpoint pushed roughly to the interior vault where his superior security clearance will allow him to gain access.

Granted, your security isn't state of the art, but it is fair enough to cause some small delay. There are five different checkpoints, each with a unique pass code, and a thumbprint, voice recognition and retina scanner that need to be applied simultaneously.

Turning your attention back to the interior of the atrium, you notice that one of the gang members is behaving a little erratically. His eyes, visible through the small opening of his balaclava, seem just as terrified as that of the people he is holding hostage. His blue, long sleeve shirt is soaked through with large, darker patches of perspiration, creeping down from his armpits, neckline and across his back. His breathing is harsh, audible from where you lie as still as possible, and the way he is holding his weapon is far from expert.

There is a small movement from beside you as ijichi straightens slightly. He is, for some reason, watching that young assailant like a hawk, eyes steady, something like recognition stirring in their depths. Nitta has moved to a crouching position, one of her hands braced on his back.

What are they doing? Surely -

And then, the boy in the balaclava stiffens, as if stuck with a knife. He is now staring past the man next to him as if dazed, his limbs as limp as a marionette whose strings have been abruptly cut. The gun tilts dangerously floorward, and one of his companions yells to him to -

"Get the fuck back in line!"

Something, the likes of which you've never seen, is occurring right before your disbelieving eyes. A jet of viscosity, black as pitch, shoots from the boy's mouth, tearing past the balaclava. The remnants of the knitted fabric land a few feet away, exposing his pale, terrified face, the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead, the strange look of relief that briefly crosses his features before his eyes close.

They re-open, and you utter a small, involuntary scream. Behind his lids, two neon rings of purple form a flickering gateway to madness, the slow, unhinged smile that sweeps up the corners of his mouth as unnatural as his posture. The men around him pause, exchanging uncertain glances, some of them even re-directing their weapons to his quivering form.

The boy, if he can still be called as such, takes little to no note of the threat from his own former comrades. The crowd of hostages has now noticed the change, cries of alarm ringing out as they see the boy's body contort, arms and legs snapping and twisting to distorted, elongated proportions. One of the other gang members shouts out a hoarse warning before firing a round into the boy's contorted head and chest.

He is ... unharmed. Instead, the nightmarish head sweeps back, the neck stalk-like, flexible. The features seem even more inhuman, his grotesque smile now jagged-edged, the teeth sliding like nails past the shredded, bloody lips. The heist completely forgotten, the men in dark clothes back away, yelling in fear and consternation, weapons clutched in sweat-slicked palms.

What is this? What is -

You scramble backwards, coming up against a firm, warm palm in the small of your back. The muscles of your abdomen and legs are now plagued by small tremors as you turn your head to see Nitta behind you. She doesn't seem quite so young and nonchalant any longer. There is a certain hard quality to her, a readiness for what is to come that takes you completely off guard. Beyond her, Ijichi shoots you a quick glance of apology before nodding at his 'niece'.

His hand raises towards the glass of the atrium ceiling, the cloudy sky outside clearly visible. Nitta mirrors his pose, palm pressed flat against the smooth tile beneath her. Their voices rise above the cacophony, a steady chant that somehow resonates in the furthest reaches of your being.

"Emerge from the darkness ... "

The vision of horror that used to be a human sweeps out an arm, narrowly missing the men who scream and return fire. It seems that he - it - is still learning the use of that body. It stumbles, clawed feet scraping across the floor, leaving deep grooves in its wake.

" ... blacker than darkness ..."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the group of civilians who has been standing at the counter being ushered to safety further into the lounge at the other end of the room. The man who seals the double doors behind him is one you recognise. The imposing blonde businessman, the one Nitta had been looking at earlier. This was now, in your mind, no mere coincidence.

Who were these people?

" ... purify that which is impure."

It slides from the fingertips of Ijichi and Nitta, a layer of otherness, a barrier between your world and the distortion of reality that has happened in here, in this space that used to be your everyday stronghold of familiarity. Ijichi meets your bewildered gaze and he pauses momentarily, mouth drawing into a regretful line.

"You can see it."

You nod wordlessly and he adjust his glasses, that incongruously stern set of his features directed at something past you.

"Don't worry. It'll be over soon."

One of the criminals spots the movement of Ijichi and Nitta, screaming out to them as they get to their feet on either side of you. 

"Get back down! Don't you fucking move! I'll - "

His words are cut off as one of the monster's flailing, spiked projections lob his left arm right off at the shoulder, the gun falling from the nerveless clasp of the severed hand. The noise that leaves his throat is thick, animal, full of existential fear. He slides forward, the floor now slick with his own blood, eyes bulging as his choked cries echo across the hall.

Two strong hands assert their grip under each of your armpits, dragging you to your feet. You realise that a sound, similar to the one the maimed man had made, was exiting your own throat.

"Easy," comes Ijichi's voice in your ear, "Just breathe. Move with us. It'll be all right."

How? How could any of this ever be all right?

You cannot comprehend how this man could possibly say that, but when you look over at him, there it is, in his eyes behind those rectangular frames. He does believe what he says. He means every word. But how can he -

"Step back, please. You're in the way."

The voice that echoes across the atrium is unlike any of the others, cutting through the chaos with calm, clipped, precise enunciation. It's the blonde businessman, who, you are rapidly realising, is also not what he seems.

He strides across the hall, completely ignoring the threatening gestures and shots fired in his direction by the gang who are now in disarray. He sheds his pinstripe coat, revealing a leather harness fastened across his torso, the dark straps stark against the white of his shirt.

And there is something else, something similar to the strange current you sensed from Ijichi and Nitta earlier, coursing along the powerful lines of his shoulders and arms. It is ... different, but holds a deadly latency that can't be denied. The businessman reaches up and removes his dark glasses, revealing a sharp-cornered, intensely shadowed gaze. He glances across at Ijichi, who straightens and nods in response.

"We'll leave things to you, Nanami."

"Thank you, Ijichi. Get the rest of the hostages to safety."

The rapid gunfight that had been punctuating by yells in the background had now taken a worrying turn. The force of the automatic rifles, puncturing skin and shattering bone, had been driving the monster back, but no longer. It was healing itself, shards of bone annealing, flesh knitting itself back together, blood decanting back into torn vessels as it slowly gained momentum, moving forward and driving them back.

The man called Nanami turned back to the battle, surveying it with the calm of a seasoned veteran. As Ijichi and Nitta help you along, you slowly regain your ability to move, but something kept your gaze fixed on Nanami's broad back as he reached behind him, fingers grasping the handle of what seemed to be a blunt blade wrapped in an oddly patterned cloth. It appeared to be a similar pattern to the one on his tie.

Is he mad? Bullets don't work on that thing! He was going to -

Your thoughts still and die away as an electric rush of that strange energy jets up around Nanami's body, coating him in what looks like armour. One polished leather brogue slides back along the tiles, giving him enough momentum to propel himself forward at inhuman speed. Your eyes can barely follow his movements as he streaks across the atrium, right towards the spinning, shrieking monster.

Now that it had become accustomed to the body it inhabited, the creature was darting forward with swift, jagged motions, dealing terrible slashes and blows to any flesh it encountered. Nanami reaches it, dancing around its flailing arms with ease and grace. It takes note of him, the slide of its bulbous eyes sickening as they gather on either side of its skull, as if to pin down his location better. The remaining gang members take this opportunity to scramble to safety, kicking and clawing each other to the floor in their urgency to escape.

You shout a wordless warning to Nanami, but Nitta's grip on your shoulder gives you a measure of reassurance. They seem to have full faith that this deceptively understated salaryman can handle the reality-bending situation unfolding before your eyes.

And he does.

From the little snippets of the battle that you can follow with comprehension, Nanami's movements match the creature's every step of the way. When its limbs elongate with a sudden snap, he adjusts his distance. When it sends tendrils of smoky substance across the floor, he seems to coat his shoes in that luminous energy, skidding effortlessly across the top of it. When it tries to close in on him, limbs splitting and weaving in tendrils that catch and ensnare, he slices clean through them, that blunt blade doing far more damage than you would have ever thought possible.

The confidence and surety of his block and parry sends a sudden flare of hope through your chest.

Maybe he can beat it! Maybe he can -

The creature let's out a howl of fury, the force of it battering the walls and shattering the windows. You scream as shards of glass blow outwards from the booths where you and your fellow employees had been crouched just a short while before. Covering your face, you brace for the tearing pain, but nothing happens. Peering between your fingers, you see that Ijichi is muttering under his breath, creating another kind of barrier, this one of a smaller radius, around the three of you. The faint patter of glass reaches your ears as the flying shrapnel falls harmlessly off the surface.

But what about Nanami?

A sharp breath escapes your lips as you see him, still standing, facing the wrath of the creature. He remains unphased, but his sleeves have now been rolled up, the smooth shift of sinew and muscle visible beneath skin. You watch as he reaches up, loosening his tie and flicking his wrist out, the spotted red material wrapping around his fist. He begins a measured pace towards the creature, and for the first time, you see it take a step back.

Nanami's smooth, mellow voice sounds through the hall again.

"It's now three in the afternoon. I started work today at nine and I'm going to clock out at five. That leaves me exactly fifteen minutes to finish off with you, forty five minutes of travel time and one hour to complete my paperwork for today."

... what? 

He continues, striding forward as the creature staggers back even further, defensive spikes slowly sliding into place on its arms and knees. He doesn't seem to be particularly bothered by this.

"I would prefer not to incur overtime, so if you would please co-operate with me, I would highly appreciate it."

For all your years in retail and finance, you had never seen customer service handled quite like this.

Nanami flicked his blade straight out, those keen eyes sighting right along the upper edge. He seemed to have assessed something of the creature, because his subsequent lunge was precision itself. The dappled sword swung down, then up and away, severing along some vital line. The ghoulish scream that exited the monster spoke of the damage dealt. It collapsed, clawing at its body as Nanami approached with that predator's prowl; decisive, tranquil.

He crouched right before the recoiling mass of darkness, one arm bending back before his fist slammed with impossible strength right into where the midriff should be. The blast stripped away the last vestiges of whatever had possess the original 'host' in the first place. The slick darkness shivered in its death throes, snaking along the ground before Nanami's heel came down on it with crushing finality.

You let out a breath you'd been holding as the boy, whose body you'd felt would be beyond any kind of repair, slumped to the floor, unconscious. Nanami knelt beside him, fingers enclosing his wrist before glancing up at Ijichi and nodding.

He was alive!

Nitta rushed forward immediately, a cellphone appearing from within her coat, balanced between shoulder and ear as she patted the boy down, searching for further weapons or injuries. She appeared to be calling for some kind of assistance from the outside.

Beside you, Ijichi raised two fingers, and suddenly, a rush of noise reached you from outside; the blare of sirens, the snap and flash of cameras, the commotion of many voices. The barrier they had cast earlier had been lifted. You clamber slowly to your feet, with his assistance.

You have so many burning questions, but you feel that the answers will hold information that might take you some time to process. For now, you'll simply ask about -

"You can see the cursed energy."

Ijichi is watching you, following your movements with attention.

"Cursed ... energy?"

"That's what we call it. Some civilians, like you, can see it, although that's quite rare. It's the duty of those like us to protect humanity from the curses that roam this world. Curses that appear, much like this one."

"So ... you knew it was going to come here? That's why you ... "

"Suspected," he corrects you. "We traced it to this area, but could not pinpoint its location. Then we received a tip-off from law enforcement about a heist that was about to occur at this bank. We made an educated guess as to where the curse would manifest next."

"With ... law enforcement? So all of you are ..."

"Sorcerers, affiliated with Jujutsu Tech. Well, I'm no qualified sorcerer. Simply an assistant director. Nanami is the sorcerer. You'll ... have to come with us, of course. To sign a waiver. There's a lot of paperwork involved with civilian witnesses and victims."

You nod, turning to where the boy who had been ... possessed, for want of a better term, was now being loaded onto a stretcher.

"Was he a victim too, then?"

"Yes. He will have little to no memory of what occurred when he wakes up. Just the events leading up to his arrival here. Everything before that ... will have to be processed through regular law enforcement."

"I see."

You really didn't, but the matter-of-fact manner with which Ijichi was rattling off this information made this fever dream seem halfway believable, if the protocol was anything to go by. Ijichi gestured to you, and you saw that the other hostages were being led out of the safety of the lounge where Nanami had sequestered them earlier.

Speaking of Nanami, you saw his tall figure stride ahead of you. He'd looked over you and the rest of the captives and seemed satisfied that his work here was done. You called out to him as he approached the doors.

"Thank you!"

He paused and turned slightly, that cool, appraising glance taking you in.

"No need. I'm simply doing my job."

"Well then, allow me to thank you ... for letting me clock out on time."

You see the barely perceptible change in his expression, the slight lift of his eyebrows, the tilt at the corner of his mouth.

"Noted."

He turns away and Ijichi ushers you after him, out into the sunlight that strikes your skin like your new-found awareness of the unseen world.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[facelessfinest]

Hey, Jigen...

Jigen is already standing in wait when the door swings open, but a guard doesn't come through. Instead, a limp form is tossed into the cell and hits the floor hard with a pained moan. Then the door slams shut again.

The split second of brightness destroyed Jigen's adjustment to the pitch black within the confines of his little domicile, so he cautiously approaches the area where the person is laying.

"You alright, kid?" He snaps gruffly, his voice a little deeper than it naturally is.

He inches closer, but quickly pulls back when his foot lands in a puddle that wasn't there before and nearly slips out from under him.

"The hell?" He grumbles, crouching and squinting down at the mysterious liquid.

His new cell mate shifts ever so slightly, and the whispered words they speak hit him at the same time as the smell of blood.

"Hey, Jigen..."

Without a word, Jigen leaps into action, feeling around until he's fully located Lupin, then taking him under the shoulders, and quickly dragging him to the back of cell, leaning him against the wall.

"You idiot." He hisses, but it's dripping with worry instead of venom.

Kneeling down and feeling Lupin's torso, he turns the attempted response into a yelp of agony as his hand presses into the stab wound on the thief's side. 

Emotions aren't typically an issue for Jigen, but he has to force down the boiling rage he's feeling in this moment to focus on searching for further injuries. 

"Talk." He murmurs, cringing apologetically as his fingers drag against another gash, drawing a tortured gasp from Lupin.

He can hear the thief swallow hard, each breath hissing between clenched teeth as he struggles to speak.

"Fujiko and Goemon?"

Jigen shakes his head, stripping the thief of his suit jacket and button up.

"I know they're alive, but that's it. No one's talked to me since they decided I didn't know where you were."

He can see significantly better now, but it's not a pretty sight.

Lupin's awfully banged up, bruises litter his face and torso, and there's three stab wounds oozing blood onto Jigen's admittedly shaky hands. They've been through stuff like this before, but it's more stressful without proper supplies or lighting, and most importantly when they still aren't safe from the party responsible. 

"What about y-you?" Lupin gasps.

Jigen says nothing, takes note of the positioning of the injuries first; one just beneath Lupin's ribs, the other just above his hip, and the last one, the worst one, strategically placed at his side, where there's little chance of having hit anything vital.

It's broader than the other two, gaping open in a way that tells Jigen that the attacker kept twisting the knife.

Gritting his teeth so hard he can almost taste sparks, Jigen takes Lupin's tattered shirt, and folds it up, pressing it against the three wounds. Lupin growls, unconsciously trying to pull away.

Jigen scooches closer to him, putting an arm around Lupin's waist to keep him close, and holding the shirt tightly against the thief.

Blood is quickly dampening the fabric, but the bleeding looks to be slowing down at least.

"You've got to have something on you." Jigen huffs. "A pin, or something I can use to stitch these up."

Lupin frowns, his head lolling against Jigen's shoulder.

"Nothin'. They s-searched...every inch of me."

His whole body seizes with the effort of trying to laugh. He quickly stops trying.

And now he's just laying there, limp against Jigen and uncomfortably silent. 

Jigen swallows hard, biting back the urge to try and kick down the door, because for that, he'd have to get up, and leave Lupin bleeding alone.

"What did they want?" He growls.

Lupin looks up at him, searching his expression. Jigen refuses to meet his eyes.

"Whatever it was we were looking for, I can't remember." Lupin stops to cough, and Jigen wipes away the blood at the corner of his mouth. 

Giving a shuddering sigh, Lupin continues. "I wouldn't have told them even if I knew. 'S never worth it."

Sighing, he tried to move closer to Jigen, trembling all the while.

Jigen stopped him entirely, then carefully took him by the shoulders and lay him back, resting the man's head in his lap.

He refolded the shirt and pressed it neatly back to Lupin's side, his other hand gently running through Lupin's hair.

He looked down at his beloved thief with somber eyes. 

Perhaps Lupin might have joked about the intimacy of it all, but he was just..tired. So tired. 

His whole body ached, but it hurt less when Jigen's rough hands coddled him so gently. He closed his eyes, preening under the affection.

"I'm gonna fix this, Jigen." He whispered hoarsely. "And then all four of us are gonna go to a stupidly expensive hotel, stuff our faces like we'll never see food again, and just...sleep. All in one big bed, cuddling like puppies."

He had a stupid, pained grin on his face, and thankfully he couldn't see the equally goofy smile his partner wore.

"Sound good?" He wheezed.

"Throw in a pack of cigarettes and I'm in." Jigen chuckled.

Lupin nodded weakly, still smiling. 

"Biggest pack of cigarettes you've ever fuckin' seen, marksman.

"I'm looking forward to it, thief."

[mistbornthief]

this is all that's playing in my head while i'm watching jack & joker

[yourqueenb]

Also quick focus on Mal… If I ignore some of the things that happened in this chapter, I still like his “reunion” scene from last week. It was fun and felt kind of like old times. But when you factor those things in — mainly the fact that he said he thought we were dead — the way he acted last chapter is so upsetting and doesn’t even make sense now. If he really thought MC was dead, why wasn’t he more shocked to see her? If he couldn’t express that during/after the heist, why couldn’t he express that on the dock or at camp or literally anywhere else? Why has everything been so rushed? What are the writers doing??

[theheistattheball]

Nothing much just thinking about how all this could have been avoided if Innocent had looked around and been fr

[itsnunoclock]

love and larceny (one shot)

note: inspired by Warrior Nun's museum heist episode and a random internet prompt from years ago. short and sweet, but adorable avatrice meet-cutes make my heart sing! ao3 link

Ava Silva, a young thief with a knack for adventure, glided through the Louvre Museum's dimly lit corridors, her eyes darting across the security cameras and guards. Her target: the exquisite, centuries-old diamond-encrusted tiara, rumored to be a part of the French royal family's lost treasures.

For weeks, Ava had meticulously studied the museum's blueprint and security system, preparing for this very night. Her plan was simple: disable the tiara's alarm system, snatch it from the display case, and vanish into the Parisian night. Easy peasy.

But as Ava neared her target, she spotted another figure approaching the tiara. A woman, mirroring her attire, dressed in black, wearing gloves and a mask.

The woman reached for the display case, her movements graceful and fluid. Ava watched in awe as she unlocked the case and retrieved the tiara.

"Excuse me, madam," the woman spoke with a refined British lilt. "Could you please stay behind the red rope?"

Ava followed the woman's gaze to the velvet rope demarcating a restricted area. She took a step back, pretending to be a curious tourist.

"What’s that?" Ava asked, even though she already knew.

"This is a stunning diamond tiara, believed to be an heirloom of Marie Antoinette," the woman replied, carefully holding the tiara up to the light. "The craftsmanship is absolutely exquisite, isn't it? It's said to be worth a fortune."

Ava couldn't help but be mesmerized by the tiara's beauty. It sparkled and shimmered in the woman's hands, like a cascade of frozen stars.

"Marie Antoinette's tiara?" Ava repeated, her voice tinged with wonder. "I've read so much about it, but I never thought I'd see it up close. Did she really wear it during the French Revolution?"

The woman nodded, her brown eyes sparkling with knowledge. "Yes, it's believed to have been one of her most cherished possessions. She wore it at various court events, and it was eventually lost during the chaos of the Revolution."

Ava couldn't help but be impressed by the woman's expertise and charm. "You seem to know a lot about history."

The woman chuckled softly and leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm actually an art restorer here at the museum. I've had the privilege of working on this exhibit," she confessed, carefully cradling the tiara in her gloved hands before gently placing it into a small, padded suitcase by her side.

Ava extended her hand, introducing herself. "Ava Silva."

The woman removed a glove and shook Ava's hand. "Beatrice—just Beatrice. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ava."

Ava's mind raced. She had initially planned to steal the tiara, but now she found herself drawn to Beatrice. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a strange tingling sensation in her gut.

"When you're done here... just Beatrice" Ava said, her voice almost breathless. "Can I invite you for a cup of coffee? I'd love to discuss more about the French Revolution and your work."

Beatrice smiled, her eyes meeting Ava's. "You're quite charming, Ava. I'll be finished in about fifteen minutes. Let's meet at that Starbucks down the street, and I'll share some stories with you."

Ava nodded, her heart soaring with excitement. She had forgotten all about the tiara. All she could think about was Beatrice, the mysterious art restorer who had stolen her heart in a single glance.

As Ava watched Beatrice walk away, she realized that she would need to adjust her strategy for the tiara, but for now, she was willing to take a chance at something even more valuable—the hot girl's phone number.

[thiefofcrows]

plotted starter for @therooftopsofketterdam

   THE FIRST TIME THEY'D TRIED, after Inej had left on The Wraith and returned months later, was when Kaz had joined her on the roof of the Slat. Just like he'd used to, before the heist, before Van Eck, before she'd set her dreams on hunting slavers. He'd settled in next to her, their legs dangling off of the edge, their breath escaping in puffs of white as the chill of fall had begun to set in at night. It was a gradual feeling of Inej's slight weight against him and, for a brief moment, he was weighed down, buried beneath piles of corpses — but inej was not a corpse, she was alive next to him, her ears, nose and cheeks all flushed a deeper red from the cold, her body heat warm against his shoulder.

   Kaz tilted his head, hesitated ... but then he shifted slightly so that the arm she leaned against loosely curled around her just slightly, the length of his arm casually resting against her back. He sought out her hand with his free one, making use of the slits in his gloved fingers to find the pulse that beat against her wrist. It steadied him, discouraged the frigid waters from rising around them and he let out a slow, wavering sigh, his breath misting in the air. Tentatively, he leaned his temple slightly against the top of her head — he shivered as their combined heat chased out the cold and ... Kaz couldn't remember ever having experienced this, not really. It was warm and soft, desire and longing churning relentlessly in his chest, swiping the breath from his lungs.

   He felt an abrupt and foreign urge to wrap his arms around her, embrace her, rake his fingers through her hair, but ... Kaz didn't know if he could manage any of those things, nor if she could, either. What they were doing now was close enough, he thought, and a deep affection felt like it was practically bleeding out of him, fast and uncontrolled, overwhelming. His love for her was all encompassing, terrifying, but Kaz was greedy for her own that she offered in return, much to his bafflement.

❝Hello Inej,❞ his rasped voice drifted between them warmly. ❝I thought I'd find you up here.❞

[legallydistinctloolooland]

i got two throuples i wanna write Literature about

Huskerdustvox i feel like i could write pages fucking PAGES about, i wanna get academically in the weeds of the possible dynamics of these old men + how it will inevitably be vox kinda pathetically clawing at the door of their established relationship

Emichaggie I just want sapphic drama full stop. again, pages + pages

[ensburg]

Lore Dump

First Page Previous Page Next Page

[sinvulkt]

Fly the Nest by stygianwriter (StygianRiver) ( @stygianwriter )

Kaito never would've stopped being a phantom thief if it was up to him, but it's not. He's thrown into obscurity head-first.

He doesn't stop being shot at. Complete, 80k words.

*** ** * ** ***

Part 2:

"How did you deal with it?" she asks. It's uncomfortable to admit her own part in causing a grief like this, but she pushes on. "Knowing I would leave?" "We were worried, of course," her mom says. "Even your sister, though she wouldn't admit it, since she'd want to leave eventually, too. Your father and I talked at length. Did we do something wrong? Did we raise you to want to flee this house?" The words curl around Chikage's heart and ring familiar. They're hers, too. Her mother gives a dry laugh. "And then when we got over ourselves, we still worried. Would you ever send letters? Would you be okay out there in the wild world, with nothing to tie you down?" Chikage realizes with a start that she hadn't once thought that Kaito would be incapable of caring for himself. If it was Toichi, maybe she would've. Not Kaito. She's seen Toichi at his worst, where she didn't dare leave him alone, where he wouldn't bother with making sure he ate or slept or survived. Kaito has always been okay, no matter what. Kaito adapts. "In the end," her mom says, "the choice wasn't mine, and it wasn't your father's, and it wasn't your sister's. We could worry and worry and hope, but we could never keep you. It wasn't right to keep you." Chikage stays quiet. For the first time in years, she doesn't have the right response on her tongue. "You were capable of making your own choices, and this is the path you chose, and we could do nothing more but accept it."

[bowlerhatwearer]

I honestly would be very interested in a Star Wars Story/Movie which takes places solely in Coruscant, mostly in the underground and which from the genre is a hardboiled/noir tale.

[orteil42]

we are in dire need of some new media trend. we've done pirates, we've done cowboys; we've gone through two whole zombie revivals. aliens and space themes have basically been a constant since at least the 1950s, as have robots and evil AIs. we went pretty heavy on vampires for a while. we've also done dinosaurs, ninjas, musicals, wizards, sea creatures, ancient rome, ancient egypt, middle ages out the wazoo, entirely too much world war II, we're currently overdosing on our superhero phase, we've done monsters (misunderstood), monsters (radioactive), fake guy in the real world, real guy travels to fake world, caves & mining, vikings, what if you were really small, genre parody as a genre, sand, New York, time travel, something racist goes down in the jungle, neurodivergent detective, buddy cops, crooked cops, gangsters, bank heists in particular, kid has powers, revolt against the corporate world, portals, social insects, dragons, the British, global apocalypse, martial arts, roadtrip as self-discovery, Jesus, clones, clowns, babysitting goes wrong, demonic possession, ghosts of all kinds, talking animals, fucking with the stock market, restaurant ownership, dwarves, planes, and spies. where do we go from here. what's our next big thing

[stolendiamonds]

[monicascot]

Outrageous Candy Heist Caught on Camera | Uncovering thieves |

Prepare to be amazed and amused by the Outrageous Candy Heist, caught on camera for your viewing pleasure! In this uproarious funny video, witness the antics of a group of daring thieves attempting to steal the sweetest treasure. Uncovering thieves has never been this entertaining as you watch their hilariously futile attempts, filled with laugh-out-loud moments and unexpected twists. Brace yourself for a wild ride of laughter as you dive into this side-splitting candy-filled caper that will leave you craving more comedic adventures!

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐓𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠 ♡

Day Thirty - Alien Au (Ft. Egg laying and breeding)

【Synopsis】 : You husband is in need of your "person assistance"... unlucky for you, San and Wooyoung want a taste of you also.

『Word count』 : 2.92k

-> Genre: Alien au. Smut. Pwp.

Pairing: Aliens!WooSanSang x MarsBornHuman!Reader

[Warnings] : Multiple tentacles! Jerking off. Fingering in a sense? Multi-coloured cocks (yes... thats a warning). Oral (m rec). Swearing. Mention of mating bonds and claims. A bandaged wound. Photography and videoing. Unprotected sex. Breeding (obviously). Multiple orgasms. Dirty talk. Pet names. Rough sex. Lowkey free use. Wooyoung is possessive as fuck. Illegal stuff. Running from the law. Guns and sirens. Gotta love a good heist.

Networks: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Note: Ahh, I can't believe Halloween is tomorrow!! Are you all as excited as I am. ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

You took a deep breath as you adjusted the bust hem of your long black dress. The ballroom was a swirl of glittering gowns and tuxedos, and the air buzzed with mingling laughter and gossip amongst the galactic elite. At your side was Hongjoong, your captain. He scanned the room, his eyes ever vigilant, ready to seize the opportunity to steal the rare cromer crafted by the fabled artisans of the Gilded Realm. This was your crew's mission—a heartbeat away from the legendary artifact that could bend time and realities itself.

Yet something gnawed at your gut, a feeling of unease that coiled like a serpent, distracting you from focusing. And just as you were about to voice your concerns to Hongjoong, your holocom vibrated against your thigh. You glanced down at where the sleek tablet rested, noticing San's user icon. Without causing too much attention, you unclip the small rectangular size screen. But you felt your heart drop upon reading the message. It was a text, saying: “Sugar, Yeosang isn’t well. Meet us in the far bathroom. Hurry.”

“Captain, I—”

“Go,” Hongjoong replied, his voice steady, sensing the urgency in your demeanour. “We’ll hold off until you get back. Just be quick, okay angel.” The loving pet name rolled off his lips like butter, giving you some peace in your anxiousness.

You didn’t need to be told twice as you wove through the throng of elegantly dressed patrons, each step a mix of concern and adrenaline. You quickly reached the far end of the lavishly decorated hall away from most of the party guests. You opened the door to the women's restroom, and the moment you crossed the threshold, your heart ached at the sight before you. You found Yeosang, your darling husband, in a state of distress. His tentacles, usually restrained and hidden, were now wrapping around his body uncontrollably, and his eyes held a frantic darkening look. "I'm sorry, my love," He panted, leaning against the sink, sweat glistening on his brow, his vibrant tentacles tightening with every second that passed. He looked up at you, a weak smile breaking through his evident discomfort. “I—,” he whimpered, his voice strained.

You rushed to his side, your hands reaching for his arms, noticing that his skin was hot to the touch. “What’s wrong?”

"I've gone into my rut early..." His voice held a note of embarrassment, but you could sense the urgency in his words. Usually, when Yeosang's species goes into their mating cycle's they are isolated, and it's prepared meticulously. But since everyone is a different type of alien on the crew, it doesn't surprise you that cycles change and fluctuate to when they are supposed to happen.

San, standing beside Yeosang, added, "I've been trying to calm him down, but nothing seems to be working. I think we need to help him now before it becomes even more difficult to control. Just until we can get him back to the ship." You nodded at your lover, understanding the situation all too well. You knew that when Yeosang goes into heat, his body has the tendency to take over, and his needs become all-consuming. So this was just to calm his body so it could give his mind some room to breathe.

So without wasting anothering moment, knowing Hongjoong told you to be quick, you pulled Yeosang closer to you. Your bodies flush against one another as he held you against the cold, hard sink. You felt his tentacles slither down towards your legs, snaking themselves around your thighs before tightening around you. A mixture of desire and desperation surged through both of you and in one with swift motion, he spun you around, lifting your dress so the fabric could pile around your waist, revealing your already wet panties, a testament to your own growing arousal.

Yeosang could no longer hold back. With a sharp snap, he tore your panties in half, the sound echoing in the bathroom. Letting the ruined material fall to the dirty floor, he used one of his lubricated tentacles to slide between your legs, spreading your limbs apart so he could stand behind you snuggly. Yeosang was already becoming quickly lost in the pleasure, needing to feel you wrap around him. “Y-Yeo quickly…”

Your pants caused Yeosang to growl animalistically. He hated people telling him to hurry up, but deep down, he knew why you said it, knowing Hongjoongs temper all too well. So using his tentacles, two held your glistening folds open while he started to drill one into your pussy, stretching you out to accommodate his size in a moment.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp gasp, a mixture of pleasure and surprise, moving your hips in time with the tendrils thrusts. San stood by, his eyes fixed on the filthy scene before him. He couldn't help but reach down to palm himself through his pants, already feeling the stirrings of his own needs grow. He watched as Yeosang's tentacle worked its magic, pumping into you with a desperate speed, preparing you nicely.

You felt yourself getting carried away by the pleasure, almost forgetting where you were and why you were there. Yeosang's tentacle knew exactly how to stimulate you, knowing your body better than yourself, curling and twisting in just the right spots. You tried desperately to remain quiet, but as Yeosang's motions became more frantic, your breath quickened and soft moans escaped your lips as you felt yourself creep closer to the edge. “S-sangie pleaseee.”

“I know... Just let me enjoy this. Fuck..” He grunted through gritted teeth. What he would give to take his time with you, slowly pumping you full, eating you, loving on you for hours. But alas time was literally of the essence. So with a hazy mind, you reached out to comfort San... to give him some relief as well. Your fingers fiddled at his belt, and the red alien couldn't help but chuckle at your desperateness. He flipped the belt off in seconds giving enough room for his long cock to slip out of its confinements. The patterning and ridges on his cock made you gulp, never being able to get used to the variety of shapes and sizes your lovers gift you. Your tongue licked a strip up the base until you reached the tip, letting his cock slip into your waiting mouth.

“Fuck that's it, baby…” San groaned his hand gently holding the back of your head. You felt tears welt in the corners of your eyes, most likely ruining your makeup. Yeosang doesn't stop his tentacles having added two more inside you as he picks up speed in his thrusts matching the snap in Sans's hips.

You were almost completely lost in the burn of desire until you could hear your holocom start to ring against your exposed thigh as it sat snug in its holster. You went to reach for it, worried it might be the captain telling you that time was up. But San grabbed it before you could, reading the user icon to see it was none other than Wooyoung. San couldn't help but chuckle at seeing his friend's name given to you. Wooyoung had only recently completed your mating bond when you all travelled to his home planet. His claim on your hip was most likely still red and sore beneath the bandage you put on it.

The poor pup was wondering where you were. His sense of possessiveness was still strong, and he wanted to know your whereabouts every hour. And now, finding you were missing from your post next to your captain, he would have begun to worry. San, thinking quickly, opened your holocom and started recording a video. The sight of Yeosang's tentacles buried deep inside your dripping cunt, the sounds of your moans muffled against his cock, with the image of you sucking him off for dear life was all too enticing to resist not sharing. And with a few quick taps and the quick text saying “busy”, San sent the video to Wooyoung, knowing it would drive him wild.

Throwing the phone onto the sink lazily, you all briefly noticed the vibrations of the com against the sink, announcing Wooyoung's incoming call, but San hit ignore before going back to focusing on the task at hand, fucking your pretty mouth. Yeosang had reached his limit quickly and with a final, powerful thrust he pulled his tentacles out of you before quickly replacing them with his hard cock. He drilled into you with passion, his high-pitched whimpers echoing around the dim restroom. He didn’t take long to start feeling the brew of heat in his gut, indicating his eggs were ready. Just a few more thrusts. He wanted to, needed to, last a bit longer. He was screaming at himself internally for wanting to empty his load so quickly but he couldn’t take it any longer. “Fuck, darling. I need to come. You’re gonna be a good girl and take my eggs huh. Hold them and make them warm for me.”

Yeosang’s ramble caused your cunt to clench tightly around him, sucking his cock in deeper. Your mouth flew off San with a guttural cough. “Sange!! Arghh. Please. I’ll be good. Give them to me.” He came deep inside you quickly after your sweet words, his slicked-up eggs pumping into you in relentless waves. As he emptied himself, one of his tentacles reached around to rub your clit, sending you into your own orgasm, your juices squirting around his cock before splattering all over the floor.

Yeosang pulled out of you slowly, his tentacle still gently caressing your sensitive flesh. But San wasted no time in claiming what was his, spinning you around and pushing you up onto the counter. You had no time to process nor even try to stop him. You were here to help Yeosang, to calm him down, not give San a fucking quickie. But your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist nonetheless as he lined up his large alien cock at your entrance, ready to take his turn with you.

San's eyes rolled back and his jaw went slack as he plunged into your wet ruined pussy, your walls clenching around him, still sensitive from your high with Yeosang. He fucked you with a vigorous pace, his abdomen tightening as the counter creaked under your combined weight. San's hand covered your mouth to muffle your cries as you began to scream out his name, his other hand gripping your hip too tightly to maintain his frantic drilling. He wasn't aiming for a slow climb to his release but instead the quickest route he could possibly take. Yeosang, in his own temporary satisfaction, kissed your shoulder tenderly, lazily, his hazy mind still dancing among the clouds. His tentacle joined San's hand in bringing you to another orgasm, rubbing your little nub in quick short circles. San groaned as he felt your pussy clamp down on his cock, and with a few more thrusts, he spilled his seed into you, his own release mixing with Yeosang’s warm eggs.

The bathroom door swung open just as San was pulling out of your thoroughly fucked hole, and in walked Wooyoung, his face flushed and his cock tenting the front of his pants. The sight before him, the sounds, and the smell of sex filling the room drove him into a frenzy. Wooyoung needed no invitation. He pulled you towards him roughly, bending you over the sink with an audible thud before lifting your dress out of his way. Without preamble, he entered you in one go, his cock sliding easily into your well-prepared hole. You felt full, completely stuffed with his huge cock, given his species was normally well-hung compared to most and your body buzzed with arousal at the forbidden nature of it all. You were definitely going to get an ear full from Hongjoong when you finally get back to the mission at hand. Wooyoung fucked you with wild strength, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass quickly filled the room. The mix of San and Yeosang's seed started to leak out of your pussy with each thrust only serving to heighten Wooyoung's desire to come deep inside you. He was like an animal in heat, even worse than Yeosang, driven by his need to claim what was his. His mate. His his his.

You could do nothing but hold onto the sink as Wooyoung jackhammered into you. Your own needs had been met multiple times over, but the relentless fucking continued, pushing you closer to the edge once more. You drooled onto the counter as your crackled moans played like music to all three men's ears. Wooyoung's grunts filled the room also, as he approached his high, his hands gripping your hips tightly, leaving marks on your soft skin with his sharp nails.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m gonna breed this tight hole, push all Yeosang’s eggs out. Make room for mine. Hmm.” Wooyoung chuckles making Yeosang suddenly chime in his growl deep and primal.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare.” The red in Yeosang’s eyes was evident that he was ready to fight Wooyoung but the other alien seemed to be more calm about the matter, staggering his hips slightly as he smirked devilishly.

“Try me.” With a final, powerful thrust, Wooyoung unloaded his cum deep into your cunt, his seed joining the mixture of his fellow aliens. Your body trembled as you felt yet another high building rapidly, threatening to overwhelm your whole body. As Wooyoung pulled out, his cum leaked out of you like a waterfall, mingling with the others, a sticky mess on the bathroom floor. But Wooyoung was quick to plug your hole back up with his fingers.

You slumped completely against the sink, your body spent, and thoroughly used. You looked at the three men surrounding you. You went to speak, but just as you opened your mouth, the air grew heavy with sirens blaring throughout the lavish ballroom under the door before entering the bathroom. The stomach-churning sound jolted you all. Then, as if on queue, suddenly, the door slammed open, and Seonghwa burst into the restroom, his face pale with frustration, concern, and a little turned on.

“Mingi got the cromer!...the fucking idiot” he shouted but mumble the last part. “We need to leave now!” Without a second thought, Yeosang hoisted you up into his arms adjusting your dress so you were covered. His strength returned as if sudden adrenaline coursed through his veins. You just clung to his shoulders, laughter bubbling between all four of you as they dashed out of the bathroom, hearts racing along with their feet.

The moment you all emerged, chaos erupted in the lavish ballroom. Guards with laser guns were already fanning out, searching with narrowed eyes, but you and your crew were ready. Darting past tables, ducking under chandeliers of illuminated crystals that might have cut the air above them. With Seonghwa leading the way, all the men twisted and turned through the maze-like corridors of the royal estate, Yeosang still tightly holding onto you, their crazed laughter mingling with frantic footsteps booming behind them. “That’s it! This way!” Seonghwa yelled, pointing towards an emergency exit where the ship docks lie.

As they neared the ship dock, they could hear the relentless footsteps of guards and more sirens blaring in the distance. “Hurry!” Hongjoong's voice echoed through the comm, urging his crew onward. With a final burst of speed, Yeosang propelled himself and you through the narrow closing door leading to your vessel, the Illusion. The sleek design of their ship loomed before you—a sanctuary waiting to be boarded.

“After me!” Hongjoong shouted as he helped Seonghwa aboard, hand in hand. Mingi and Jongho were already at the controls, having set the cloaking device to prepare for your escape, the cromer having been hooked up beautifully─Jongho’s handy work.

You felt your heart race, the thrill of the heist and the quick-not-so-quick fucking session igniting your senses. As you finally all piled into the ship, you caught a glimpse of the guards emerging quickly from the exit but Mingi was quicker. “Initiating launch now!” Mingi’s hands flew over the controls as he pressed the buttons with urgency.

Just as the guards reached them, the mighty engines of the Illusion roared to life. With a final surge, the ship lifted off the ground, and you looked back one last time, meeting the glances of hostile eyes as they faded into the stars. “Fuuuckk! We did it!” Mingi cheered, slapping Yeosang on the back as they flew into the depths of the galaxy, laughing at their narrow escape.

You finally let out the breath you were holding, your nose nuzzling into his scent gland on his neck, calming him and yourself. You beamed at him, who grinned back despite the weariness in his eyes. “Next time, can we skip the chaos?” You teased.

“I make no promises,” he replied with a wink walking you towards his chamber where he could finally get you all to himself for the rest of the night.