#paranormal part 2

[wolkoshka]

Paranormal II

summary: after your injury in the birthday party, Ghost takes you home, takes care of your wound - and finally gives you a night you’ll never forget… Simon Riley/Ghost x Reader

warnings: slow-burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, mutual pining, excessive drunk flirting, slightly dark!Simon, touch-starved Simon, trying to get into Simon’s pants (and sort of succeeding??), nsfw-themed

•this is a simon riley ficlet, I repeat, this is not a one-shot but contains a bit of plot and character development, bcs god knows we need 'em

•part 2/3

an: here is part ii, and yes, yes, I know! It’s long overdue. You’re gonna have to forgive a girlie and her lack of awareness to the passage of time.

"I said go get him, not split yer head open. Ooch, lassie, look at ye bruising up. That's an ugly one."

Johnny hassled over you, thumbing your temples as he examined your wound.

Ghost had temporarily dropped you at the bar to go hunting for a med kit. When your gaze had arrayed the room, your best friend had caught your eye, smirking - only to then gasp and push his way to you.

"So what happened?"

"Mating dance," you retorted dryly.

You pressed the glove back to the wound when Johnny released you, leaning against the counter in a snort.

"Did he fall for it?"

"Hardly." Your shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't think he likes me very much, Johnny."

"That's Lt for ye, lass. Guy wears a skull for a face. Says he sleeps soundly in it. Shudders, I tell ye. You'd think that'd make ye think twice before approaching him, eh?"

"I think my brain short-circuited precisely for those reasons. I think maybe this hit to the head will remedy that. God knows I need to get him out of my system. A full-on purge. Like those, uh, uh, really intense only-water-for-dinner kind of diets."

"It's hard to get someone ye don't know out of yer mind."

"Exactly! Jokes aside, this is insane even by drunk me standards. Never thought I'd have a crush at this age, but, whelp, here goes nothing! Will get him out of my mind as soon as I stop gawking at those muscles, okay?"

Your friend chuckled.

Over Soap's shoulder, you caught sight of Ghost's form paving way to you, broad shoulders squared, back straight and gait commanding. And yet, there was an almost endearing swagger to his stride, subtle as it was, and it only added to the unmistakable confidence simmering underneath that quiet outfit.

Suddenly, you were air-headed. In the manner people jumped out of his path like he was the most lethal being they'd ever beheld had you seeing rainbows and hearing angelic hymns.

A stupid girl with her big, stupid crush. When was the last time you got one, anyway? High school, that's when. And you felt like a silly schoolgirl again, all those eighth grade magazines on how to talk to boys and attract your crush flooding back.

You wondered what three-way advice they would spell out for someone like Ghost.

Bathe in the blood of his enemies. A sexy look can go a long way!

Rip out the heart of his enemy and gift it to him. All men enjoy a sincere show of affection every now and then!

Take a bullet for him. Take several! Nothing says I have the hots for you like bleeding out in the arms of your crush!

When his eyes found yours, uncompromising and intense even from such distance, the choir increased until you felt like your chest might implode.

"Never mind," you dreamily sighed. This particular crush wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Johnny," Ghost voiced, coming around the man. To you, he crooked a finger. "They got band-aids, but I need to stitch you up. We'll resolve the matter in your place."

Your head perked. "We will?"

Was your night actually going to end with Ghost in your apartment? Maybe even bed?

You looked at Johnny, Johnny looked at you - and you both raised your eyebrows in a knowing look.

"What the bloody hell you two peepin' at each other for?" Ghost growled.

"Peepin'? What's peepin'?" Johnny.

"We're not peepin'." You.

Eager, you hopped down - and immediately regretted it when your vision swayed. Whoops... You clutched your head tighter.

"Easy there," Johnny voiced, hands supporting your shoulders.

Once you righted, you looked up at Ghost. Expectant. Would he carry you?

You kind of, sort of, definitely desired his arms around you again.

As if seeing right through your needs, the muscle below his eye twitched. He set a challenge with his gaze, forcing you to admit defeat and walk a soldier's walk.

You faintly winced. Shrugged. "Owh, my poor head. I feel...dizzy. So dizzy. Don't know...might even trip in the rain. Get a concussion..." Another meek yet daring shrug. "So inconvenient, no?"

"Maybe ye need to go the hospital, lass - Umpf!"

You shut Johnny up with a backward punch to the groin, attention never wavering from Ghost.

There was a soft inquisitive sound, an arch of your brow, before he conceded with a weary blink of his eyes. You had to love the way his lashes fanned every time he did that. Long, thick, and softly curled, they might just make a girl jealous.

Internally, you performed a victory dance. Externally, you outstretched an arm.

His killer biceps bulged around your frame, tugging you close, as he lifted you off your feet. When you corded your arm around his neck and nestled your face on his pec, lashes batting up at him, Ghost looked like he was near to dropping you on your arse and dragging you by your heels instead.

"Don't get used to it, poppy," he grated low.

You wore a look of mock-surprise. "Never."

Gaze too slow to leave your face he spoke to Johnny next, "I'll meet you at the base." He strode past, strong legs falling into pace. "Don't be late. And for fuck's sake, Johnny, get some rest."

Johnny grinned, the act slightly laced with pain due to your earlier assault. "Ye got it, Lt." To you, he gave you a proud thumb's up.

Over Ghost's shoulder, you blew him a kiss and mouthed happy birthday, and I love you big time, you sucker.

When the bar door closed behind you, you pointed out to Simon that he'd forgotten your umbrella and proton pack.

For the umbrella, he said the rain might help sober you up. As for your proton pack, he didn't even bother providing an answer as he took down the street, all pleased with himself as rain mercilessly pelted your face.

When lightning crackled and thunder roared overhead, you thought you felt his arms slightly draw you closer, a bit nearer, but dismissed it, blaming it instead on your active imagination and stupor.

.

What the bloody hell was he doing, Ghost questioned, standing in your open kitchen and preparing tea for two.

Steam curdled up, obscuring his masked face as he poured green tea into two cups. Clasping the handles, he turned from the counter to place them on the marbled island.

Your abode was a spacious loft with four large windows peering out into the bustling city, the London Eye and the River Thames a distant view, with a ceiling that rose six meters high.

Before him was a sitting area with a comfortable couch, plush armchairs and a TV stand. Fully-stacked bookshelves flanked either side while pots of myriad flowers and wild ferns decorated the space.

A dining table perched to his left, a family photo and Mesopotamian antiques lining the dark cherry wood surface in display. He spotted Johnny in the frame, younger than he's ever seen him, dimples deep in a cheery smile, and he spotted you, hanging onto his shoulders with an eye-crinkling laugh of your own, also young and exuding innocence.

To his far right was your bed, propped against the wall and neatly made, accompanied by nightstands and a reading lamp. To its left was the entrance, separated by a narrow wall of stained glass depicting two mermaids frolicking about. By that, he clearly meant the large cock sprouting from the merman's groin and gripped by the mermaid's slender fingers, their tails entwining as deeply as their tongues, their bodies writhing in unabashed pleasure. It was beautiful, no doubt, made to come alive in colors coral blue, golden, and violet, but Ghost also knew it was custom made.

Anyone would've missed the unorthodox tableau at first glance, but he wasn't anyone.

You had wild fantasies, it appeared, and he wanted to bash his skull in for taking interest in that.

Just like he wanted to bash the mug of green tea in his hand because he couldn't will his feet to walk away.

Granted, you'd asked he stay, at least for a little while, to thank him for taking care of your wound, and sprinting to your bathroom thereafter for a quick shower.

It's been ten minutes now, and Ghost should've been long gone. He couldn't be here. He didn't do one-night stands. He had a number for that, a special visitor, that took care of his needs without him ever needing to undress. Left just as wordlessly when the deed was done. No unnecessary pillow talks, goodbye notes, or call me laters. No strings attached, just as Ghost preferred it.

But you...

The way you wanted him, the way you watched him, eyes growing dark and heavy with desire, it made him realize he'd never been pursued that ardently. Sure, he had instances where he attracted certain women his direction - any bloke with a look like his warranted that - but a simple glower from him had them scurrying off just as quick.

He should be scaring you off too, not exciting you.

Not making you out to be an intoxication he was uncharacteristically impatient to divulge in.

Hell, with his given background and formidable expertise, no one even dared to hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. When he talked, everyone shut up. His reputation preceded him. Yet you... Bloody hell, you not only held your ground, but also eye-fucked him every chance you got.

Ghost didn't quite compute; you were a perfect stranger to him, someone he met but once, and yet you had a face that could make a man happily dream into an early death.

God, there was something about you that made his palms itch for a touch...itch to wrap that hair of yours around his fist, lift his mask, and descend for a proper feeding. A sick, twisted part of Ghost perhaps wanted to see how good you could get him to pillow talk.

It was a passing thought, but chills abraded his forearms. The challenge in it gave him a heated rush of red.

What the hell was the matter with him? he questioned for the umpteenth time.

He shouldn't be wanting such nonsense.

He shouldn't be caring for it either.

He should walk away now. But...

The moment he chose to act, turning, the exit his target, the shower stopped running. The naked pad of footsteps resounded. A towel flapped open. More footsteps, and then -

You emerged from the bathroom, all robed and clean, leaving steam in your wake. It looked like you'd just walked out of a dream, cherub cheeks flushed pink and skin dewy, almost satiny, and - fuck. He internally groaned. He wanted to bite.

What in nine hells? He popped his jaw in frustration.

Upon spotting him, excitement flashed in your eyes, and you nearly skipped over.

"You stayed," you breathily commented, the towel you were using to dry your hair tossed atop the dining table. Traces of vanilla and coconut saturated the air, infiltrating his mask, and his mouth involuntarily watered.

He needed to call that special number tonight, he decreed, or else he wouldn't survive the coming days. Days? More like hour. Keep it together, soldier.

Such unpalatable delight seeped from you, he slowly shook his head.

If only you knew he sewed another man's skull on his mask, beaten to a pulp before stripped clean of all tissue. A constant reminder of what he’d lost. Who he'd lost. If only you knew he viewed the outside world from the eyes of a dead man. If only you knew poison swam in his veins, immortalizing the infectious ichor that damned any soul to near him. Touch him. You would flee the other direction.

You would curse at him, curse him, see him for what he truly was.

A rotting corpse unleashed to the world to haunt. To terrorize.

Would you crave him then, knowing those very hands you wanted wrapped around you had ended lives, and most not so humanely?

He wasn't capable of holding you without hurting you.

Anything good and decent in him had long ago been buried away, and in their stead festered rancid tendencies that worked his mind and body tireless.

Nothing survived him, and you would be no different.

Even tonight, his somber mood a result of the death toll that ripped through his heart, deadened as it was, when he heard - witnessed - the scream of little children blown to pieces by a human bomber he was meant to stop, was no coincidence.

His main objective was to retrieve classified documents, but it had come at a cost when the enemy understood they were compromised.

He had done a bloody good job clearing the entire building, knives soaked crimson, fists even more so, but he'd forgone the basement, a bunker where bombers kept their own hostage. It was a gruesome tactic the enemy utilized to throw their foes off balance. He had a moment's decision before the bomber pressed the button - shoot him with the off-chance of saving the children, get obliterated to pieces and fail the mission, or succeed.

It was either them or the classified intel. He’d ducked for cover.

Choices have consequences, he remembered telling Johnny once, and, fuck, if he didn't hate himself for his.

He tasted the sulfur, the clogging dust saturated with human remains, in the back of his throat. He couldn't wipe those deaths from his eyes no matter how many times he bathed, scrubbed, scraped.

So, no matter you being a perfect stranger, feeding him look upon look of insatiable hunger any man would gladly sacrifice a limb for, he couldn't go down that road.

Especially when you meant so much to Johnny, his brother-in-arms, a man with a heart of gold that reminded Simon of his own. He couldn't do that to him, to you. Christ, he couldn't walk through fire again.

He wouldn't survive it.

And - bollocks, he nearly chuckled - he never sounded more miserable. It didn't matter. He'd be dodging a bullet with you, all right. All his physical needs, he could deal with them like a grown man in the confines of his own four walls.

Besides, he was a goddamn mess tonight, his feelings and thoughts blown asunder. He hadn't slept for seventy-two hours and was in desperate need of some shut-eye.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," your lilting voice broke through his thoughts. He blinked down at you. You shrugged, a small smile forming. "Funny how that works, don't you think?"

Maybe he should give you a taste of what it meant to know Simon Riley. Maybe then, and only then, would you understand the favor he'd been extending you.

Silently, he pushed the steaming cup of green tea your way.

A soft gasp. "A man after my own heart." Your fingers came around the mug, hugging it close to your chest and taking a cautious sip. "Mmm. Just what I needed."

"You feelin' better?" Christ, he might as well have spat out shards of glass with how rough he'd sounded.

You licked your lips, pink tongue darting out. "Yeah. Much," you whispered. "Thanks."

Your lips enclosed around the rim again, plump, red and eager. Red as poppies. He imagined them closing around something else, something harder, hotter, sweetened by your spit.

His muscles stiffened, the itch flaming his palms. Palms he then curled into tight fists - before releasing.

He unsuccessfully cleared his throat. "Right, then, you get that rest, poppy."

He turned on his heel, the exit never appearing more distant as he marched to it. At the end of the island, he'd left the box of med kit and his glove, and he reached for the latter as he bypassed.

A blur of white and he was staring down at your delicate features again.

"Wait, wait, you can't just leave. And you definitely can't take this." You snatched the glove from his grasp and quickly hid it behind your back. You pursed your lips at his quiet glower. "Because I'll, uh, wash it for you. More polite that way."

Bollocks. You meant to keep what was his, you wily little thing. He could easily wrestle it out of your hands, but he didn't want to give you more incentive to put your hands on him. Or, worse yet, his on you.

"You got somethin' you wanna say?" he roughed out.

"Only that I want to thank you. Properly."

"Properly thanked. Now out of my way."

He meant to sidestep but you halted him with a soft, warm palm on his chest. His heart, for the briefest second, quickened at the gesture. Didn't need incentive at all, it seemed.

You struggled for purchase. "Well - Well, what about your tea?"

"I'll live, poppy."

Another step, another pressing of your hand against his body. More adamantly this time.

Bloody hell, such a tiny thing, you were, but he'd never encountered a bigger hindrance. Especially when he was oh, so close to the exit. He was positive you were going to lock your door and swallow the key if he did not indulge you a moment's courtesy.

His abrasive exhale of defeat finally brought your palm down from his chest, and he - what? Wanted to beat your white-bricked walls in at the loss of contact? Absolutely not - couldn't have felt better.

His lids dropped, and his look of defiance rivaled yours. For a second too intense for his liking, both of you were stuck in a battle of wills.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four se -

Christ. That pulled a reaction from him, primal and almost aggressive. The kind that had the blood in his veins rushing hot and wild.

His low, grumbling voice, a contrast to the sudden, violent need unfurling in his lower abdomen, vibrated the still air between you.

"Properly thank me how?"

Of all the answers he could've expected, with how your teeth worried your lower lip, nibbling at the fleshly petal, or how your lashes fluttered, somehow nervous, or even with how your cheeks dusted pink in evident arousal, that is, a meek, "Biscuits?" was definitely not it.

His head jerked back, a frown creasing his forehead. "Biscuits?"

He fuckin' loved biscuits.

"Yes. With tea?"

Hell, he loved that more.

He let your words sit for a while. Then, "You got any ginger nuts there, poppy?"

A bashful smile revealed a row of straight, white teeth. He wanted to scrape his own against them, his tongue coaxing in to steal a little taste of you. At the heady image, he tensed.

Growled.

You swallowed. "You don't have to be so angry about it. I've got them. Come on, then, I'll share my favorites with you."

In under five minutes, you had the Ghost sprawled atop your bed goddamn picnicking with a plate of biscuits and a mug of tea in hand.

Having made away with his leather jacket, he leaned back into a heap of pillows you'd placed for him, and - oh, that felt good - his muscles hissed in pleasure at having finally relaxed.

He grunted, his lids threatening to drift shut. Your bed was warm, soft, and smelled of wild lilacs - all qualities Ghost was estranged to in the field, which happened to dominate the better part of his life.

"You'll love this," you said from your spot next to him. He'd momentarily slacked off, and your voice brought him back from the abating garden of flowers he was surrendering himself to.

He breathed in deep, pulling focus.

Having dimmed the lights to your loft, you wiggled to a comfortable position and succumbed to your own nest of pillows.

You smelled like a peachy sunset over a beach of glistening sands, and if he touched you, you'd feel even better.

And now he was turning into a bloody poet.

If 141 ever saw him like this, Ghost would never live it down.

He balanced his plate of biscuits and mug of tea on his lap, but when you pressed your shoulder to his, he nearly spilled the hot liquid over his pants.

It also chased the sleep from his burning lids, and, quietly, he suffered your presence.

His body seared where you touched him, but he made no show of it.

You outstretched your lithe legs, soft and enticing, over the bed, and crossed them at the ankles. At the movement, your white robe parted in the seams, revealing the supple flesh of your thigh, but you made no move to cover it. You simply lay there, still delectable with a kind of sweetness Ghost wanted to languidly lap at with his tongue.

So much so that the muscle now ached in his mouth.

He swore under his breath, his own legs shifting to distance his body from you. His booted feet, he dangled at the edge of the bed. He wasn't that barbaric.

"I thought you were the patient one," you chided, misreading his mood. In your fingers, you clutched some kind of a remote. It possessed two buttons. "Watch this."

You pressed the green one.

A soft whine reverberated from above, and then a portion of the sloped ceiling slid up to, inch by inch, reveal the thundering clouds in the sky.

Not many things had the power to surprise Ghost, but this... Well, suffice it to say, his jaw slightly slacked open.

Rain dazedly pelted the glassed frame, the droplets snaking down in rivulets, and distant strikes of lightning illuminated the cloudy world above, and in consequence, the dark room.

You dreamily sighed, sinking further into your pillows. You reached for the biscuits on his thighs.

Simon hadn't realized he'd placed them too close to his groin, and thought you went in for a different feeding, body abruptly tensing.

The faintest drop of your hand's weight on him had his throat contracting.

Subtly, he had the plate relocated to his abdomen. Much better.

"I had it installed when I moved in. It helps me sleep better at night. Oh, especially in such nights." You hummed out a chuckle and pointed. "Look at that cloud. Kind of looks like the head of a chihuahua, don't you think?"

Lightning crackled. The sky brightened in hues murky gray and electric blue - before plummeting into darkness.

He followed your finger, and released a contemplative sound. It was all he offered, but it seemed to be enough for you.

There was something about the sound of rain and your soft breathing that had Simon lulled to a cozy quiet. Snugged by the pillows, his weight sank deeper into the mattress, and he thought he was in a haven of your making.

This could put him dead out if it weren't for the tempting graze of your shoulder against his, forcing him awake ever time his lashes sluggishly fluttered shut.

You sipped your tea and reached for another biscuit.

Slowly, he lifted his own mask 'til his nose and watched, warily, if you'd sneak a peek. You did no such thing.

Ignoring the twitch in his brows, he bit into the biscuits. The tea smoothed them down his throat, and the warm nourishment felt good in his stomach.

All the while, you talked about your sweets and pastries, the corner shop you bought them from, and how it was your favorite with it having opened almost eighty years ago. And how he also should visit it once he gets the chance.

You finished your tea and placed the mug on your side of the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from your fingers, you plopped back down, head on your pillows this time.

You still did not look at him.

Sober you seemed to have a few bit reservations than wasted you, it appeared, faintest traces of amusement pulling at the corners of his revealed lips.

Downing the rest of his tea, he put away the empty plate and mug to his side of the nightstand. With that, he masked his lips anew.

In the silence, the only sound the pouring rain, he dwelled in the dark with you.

Then, so softly, you said his name.

"Simon."

His breath hitched dead center in his chest. His eyes arrowed down at your lying figure.

You continued to look away, spiky lashes fanning delicate cheekbones.

"You can stay the night, if you want," you made out, swallowing tentatively and moistening your lips. With a tiny jump, you turned over - and finally tilted your face up to look him in the eyes. You cupped the underside of your cheek. "We don't have to do anything. Not that you - Not that you said you wanted to. I'm sorry. I only mean, it's late...and you must be tired." Then, oh, so gently, "Heard you had a long night, too."

Ghost remained silent for the duration of your speech, and at the last sentence, quirked a brow up. "Yeah? And who told you that?"

"Johnny," you murmured.

"Johnny," he echoed. A low crackling sound sizzled in his chest, but it dwindled out before ever reaching his throat. "You discuss me with Johnny, do ya now, poppy?"

Your eyes dropped from his masked face, and your fingers drew small circles into the pillow next to his.

"Sometimes, I do, yes." So effortlessly admitted. Fuck. "It was merely an evaluation of your person, is all. I could see it too. Your eyes are red. Bit groggy too."

He rasped out a low chuckle, if it could be called that, seeing as some sounds tended to get lost in the wide expanse of his chest. "That it, eh?"

A small smile crinkled the corner of your eye, and if he had a heart, he might've gone as far as to call you a darling right then and there.

You shrugged. "Yeah."

He ran the tip of his tongue against his teeth. Simon knew it was best he end the conversation now, rise from your bed, and exit your apartment. Your life. He got his proper thanks, after all.

But, like a damned fool he could only blame on his exhausted state, he stayed put - and probed further. "What else you bothered Johnny about me, mm?"

You licked your lips again, the tip of that tempestuous pink muscle wetting the seam, and he bit back a wanting grunt.

He'd never been more arrested by a mundane act.

Focus, soldier.

His eyes trailed the gentle curve of your jawline...and down your slender neck.

No, not there, you daft geezer. Away.

"Your mask," your tentative voice filled the room.

"What's wrong with it?"

Your soft hair rustled against the sheets as you shook your head. "Nothing. It's merely got something honest about it, is all. As paradoxical as that may seem, I realize now. It's pleasant."

Pleasant? That's a new one.

But he couldn't have you building false notions about him like that. Maybe it was time he warned you away for good.

"I have more blood on my hands than the one running in your veins, poppy. There is nothing honest about me," he coldly provided.

"Well, I think you're wrong."

Bloody hell, what would it take to dislodge you?

You moved, body climbing up the pillows until your head rested close to his shoulder. And then a little bit more, until you leveled with his face.

The sheer heat emanating from your skin traveled past his clothes, seeping into his pores.

Yeah, you were a darlin', all right. A damn appetizing one, at that.

You shifted slightly, weight on your left hip and bared legs so dangerously close to his.

Through the thick rim of your lashes, you regarded him. "Ghost," you said, and he nearly corrected you. "Would you like to know what else I discuss with Johnny?"

A burning sensation infiltrated his cheek, and he realized you were tracing your fingertips over his masked features. Carefully, cautiously, so as to not chase him away.

"For one, those pretty eyes of yours," you hummed lowly. On cue, you gently trailed a finger down his brow bone.

Heat speared his cheeks at that, and he was grateful for the coverage. Simon Riley, blushing. His lashes fluttered a bit, but other than that, you remained clueless as to his expression.

"And they change color every time I look upon you. Sometimes blue, sometimes silver, other times brown, like sweet caramel, and my favorite, pitch black. How do you do that?"

You studied him enough to have a favorite? At that revelation, his throat tightened.

Wordless, he performed a small, almost undiscernible, shrug, the pillows underneath shifting.

A slow, deep smile curved your cheeks. "You should let me study them in broad daylight. I'm sure I'll solve the mystery in no time." With a cheeky air, you booped the tip of his nose with your finger.

Quietly, he watched your face, coal-dark eyes intent and focused, the only sounds from him his steady breathing.

"God, they're so black." Tenderly, you ran your knuckles across his jawline, angled your head, and then softly guided his face closer to yours.

Once, someone had told him he had no present, past, or future, and he'd told them that he'd see them in hell. Now, Ghost realized hell was here, in the breath of a space between you, where you sat so close to him, and yet he could not close it.

"None of that, poppy." He nudged your hold off.

Disappointment colored your eyes, drooped your shoulders, and brought those pearl-white teeth to gnaw at your fleshly lower lip. And with so much bite, he spotted teeth marks form.

"Easy there," he murmured, fingers acting without his explicit permission and pinching your chin.

At that, the discouragement washed away and your eyes clouded with something dark and promising, putting the storm outside to shame. There you went again with that look. If his career in the Special Forces hadn't driven him mad, this surely would.

Understanding that he shouldn't have touched you, he made to move away, but your fingers wrapped around his wrist, keeping him close - and sliding your body closer.

The second your hip meshed against his, his muscles seized up, locking tight upon his bones.

God, you were hot against him. Burning up.

Simon nearly bolted from the bed when he felt your legs entangle with his, the blistering tension having unwittingly made away with much of his resolve and rendering him stimulated in places he'd rather not feel stimulated in.

Your toes teased his legs, rubbing up against the coarse material of his pants. Then, they glided over them, finding purchase in his inner calves - and massaging. Up, up, they traveled, then dooown they dropped, creating a spine-tingling friction.

Ghost grunted, shoulders bunching before undulating. He straightened a bit. Good God. He was suddenly too aware of his own body heating up and all his intimate areas. All too aware of his blood pumping and where it was rushing.

"You better stop that before you get hurt, yeah, darlin'?" he grated past his teeth.

You sighed, no doubt relishing in his deteriorating strength. "A little pain never hurt nobody. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

As you said that, you wedged your leg more firmly between his, parting them, and slid your knee upward to lightly grind it against his sensitive groin.

Christ. He grunted with less control now, the feeling slowly slipping through his fingers.

You shouldn't be using that kind of language with him. Shouldn't be talking in such a tone. Because addiction was another sin he didn't mind adding to the list.

His body sweltered from the inside and his heartbeat increased, beating in his ears. He had to leave.

Jerking slightly at another shiver inducing motion, he pushed at your leg.

A final, "No, poppy," scraped past his throat.

"Simon," you tugged at his wrist, voice hoarsely breaking at the end and so desperately, it nearly unmanned him, "I - I'm on fire. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Need... I need you. I can't stop. I don't know why I can't stop. I just - God, I've been needing you for so long now. Every night, I dream of you, do you know that? Every night. Please, please...I'm going insane. I'm - "

That did it.

With a ferocious snarl that was more animal than man, his arm shot forward, calloused fingers latching onto your cheeks and unchivalrously burying your head in your pillows with the abrupt maneuver of his body over yours.

His weight suffocated you into the mattress.

You gasped, eyes gaping wide in alarm.

His ire flared, his desire, even more so.

"Shut the fuck up," Ghost gritted in your face, now panting hot and fast. "Shut your fuckin' mouth now, poppy. Fuck. You ever heed a warning? You ever heard of using your own goddamn fingers? You ever use that pretty little head of yours? Bloody fucking hell, darlin'. Bloody. Fucking. Hell."

You squirmed under him, releasing small, breathless sounds.

The image of you rendered so helpless roused the most primal parts of him and his cock painfully hardened, straining against the strap of his pants.

It was blooming into an ache his hands alone wouldn't be able to assuage. Goddamit.

Your eyes searched his, arraying back and forth, attempting to grasp what just occurred within the span of a blink.

Then, they narrowed, pretty lashes fusing. "I have," you ground out, baring your teeth at him. "I do. But they're never enough." Fuck, you were talking about your fingers. You almost pouted insufferably. "Never what I want. Need. Crave."

"And I am?" he growled out, baring his own teeth. You seemed to like the intensity he exuded, even heatedly roamed your eyes over his masked lips, expression devoid of all fear.

You nodded eagerly.

Yes.

He cursed under his breath.

Lowly, lethally, "How hard did you hit that head of yours, mm?"

You bit your lips to suppress a moan, "Hard enough to get you in my bed."

"That mouth of yours is goin' to get you in trouble, poppy."

You keened at the warning. "Promise?"

At that, he couldn't will himself away even if he wanted to. Not even all the soldiers in his team combined could drag him away when you stared up at him so wantonly, so desperately, silently begging to make away with the terrible ache that shadowed over your every need.

So be it. You would learn your lesson.

"Open your legs," he growled - and slipped his hand underneath your robe.

an: i made it into 3 parts bcs, well, i just had too much fun writing ghost suffering in his self-imposed ✨ agonies ✨

suffice it to say, the next part will be pure filth. pinkie swear this time. strap your seatbelts, girlies, we’re going to the horniest, dirtiest bangtown.

on another note, if anyone is willing to chat/discuss fics relating to cod or any other fandom of their liking, I’ve created a new discord server and pinned it on my blog; all are more than welcome to join ✨

[seasononesam]

Supernatural (2005-2020) // Gravity Falls (2012-2016)

[tropicalcontinental]

Human fear is the window to the soul or whatever ://

[isabeauwolf]

Deadpool Dabi fanboy is back - as if the first one wasn't enough.

I ain't complaining!

[gabriel-rorke]

Glitchy Rorke au

as the game got older and older, Activision leaving it unfinished and discontinued. Most of the characters stayed the same... most...

While some of the characters kept with their programmed actions and styles... Rorke changed, a lot.

Its first noticeable when the audio had sudden cut out- only for seconds at a time, making it unable to hear and understand if you're not reading the captions.

"You're right Eli-.......I'm the man who sends them back to the other side"....

later in the campaign his character model with start to move and act weird, sometimes even disappearing for seconds and then coming back, also making the audio cut out, leaving an unnerving feeling of silence when the character was supposed to be talking, sometimes disappearing for long enough the characters go on with their voice line while... nothing is there.

"you boys sure know-..."........ "Shut up!"

After the initial pause and disappearances, your game will become laggy and slow, making getting to the end harder, like it was trying to stop you from... something.

After a while, his character model will start to glitch while his voice is more distorted and doesn't really sound like him, his movements before more stiff

"why- ask- ... Ajax-"...

toward the middle of the game, he doesn't speak any ore, it's just horrible computer glitching noises as his character model freaks out

(66) Robotic Glitch Sound Effects - YouTube

a little something like this

eventually he can spit out some words but it doesn't really work

"You would have been a hell of a g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g" and then it cuts back the god-awful computer noises as the character model deforms itself, pixels taking up most of his body, full of the stuck, dark pixels as your console can hardly take it and starts to overheat itself. Black, stuck pixels start to take over your screen as you can hardly see any of the other characters, there are distorted, mumbled sounds of the campaign in the back but its glitchy. What is shown is blurry and smudged as the speakers emit a high pitch screaming noise as the glitching noises continue. Voices are no longer audible.

he has started to infect the other characters. watch them suffer as he did his limbs get freakishy longer

the blue and red overtakes the other characters until they're just silhouettes.

The game shuts off momentarily, displaying an "error" it tells you it will "be back momentarily" the text is glitchy and blury and a little hard to read

it takes 20 minutes.

once it loads back up, it's the end. With Rorke all in your face when it pauses and he stares at the screen without saying anything, but it's not a glitch, the background keeps moving as his glitchy eyes bore into the players soul, nor angry or happy, but confused. confused why you're still here, why are you still playing, most would have turned off the consol and returned the game to the seller or store. but no, you still watch as the game screams and breaks your consol. He hasn't moved, there is no dialog, he just stares, his breathing faint, he blinks every so often.

then the credit's role. but its off... it must be a pirated version. A creepypasta of sorts to scare players...

the cd ejects....

you should talk to the seller.

[isaacz]

I wanted to draw the duality of my 2 main interests when i was like 10 I really liked my little pony and i was a HUUGE fan of jurassic park, being the reason i even started learning english in the first place !

[kashmir-smoke]

love wins ordem paranormal fans

[nirobe-sam]

lindinhos 🥺❤️❤️

[moonflowerentity]

I spent the last 24 h listening to all Avantasia albums in chronological order to make sure I won't miss anything.

I think instead of brain I have now radio.

[twomystdunstans]

for the past like 2 weeks instead of doing warmups before drawing like a normal person, ive been drawing these. anyway yeah ❤

[dead-dove-orchid]

POV: You are Pugsley

[itsnothingofinterest]

You know, for all that we seem so sure AFO will make it to UA, I half wonder what we even expect him to do there? Like narratively, has the AFO vestige not already done everything Real-body!AFO could do with Deku & Shigaraki?

People want Deku to finally beat AFO but he did that already. And if the idea is Deku fighting AFO at full power; well Shigaraki has the same power set & more and Deku’s already fighting him. People want Shigaraki to reject AFO but he did that already (and it was epic). And speaking of, the manga’s acting like there’s a threat of him injecting another copy of his quirk to put a lid on Tomura, but we already saw that won’t work and why it won’t work.

I guess looking at what could be done with AFO at UA: I hear DFO theorists are thinking we could see a face-to-face reveal there; but personally, I can’t see that kind of dramatic narrative twist this close to the end with this little time to explore it. (For comparison: we’ve been playing with the Touya twist for 90+ chapters now.) And I guess if he’s got emotion now there’s a threat of him taking OFA himself; but not only do I barely buy he’s that angry, it’s meaningless if he still can’t surpass Tomura‘s will power (and any emotions AFO has are apparently just leeching off Tomura anyway so I doubt he could) because he’s rewinding himself to death.

So yeah, even though I was half joking when I first suggested it, I honestly think it might be just as worthwhile for him to lose to All Might in his Iron Might suit.

[arisveah]

//mild gore, mild ordem paranormal Quarentina Part 2 Spoilers

Sœur Aînée

I love Lucie so much. Her and Emi are so siblings it’s amazing. Also I totally got super spoiled with her death and I thought it was hypothermia (hence the slightly blue and cracked lips and reddened face) and them was totally blindsided by her actual death that hurt so schlecht.

For upscrollers:

//Mild gore, Ordem paranormal quarentena Part 2 Spoilers

[letsgethaunted]

The Dodleston Messages, Part 2

Welcome to Episode 154: The Dodleston Messages, Part 2! When we last left off, high school economics teacher Ken Webster was months into renovating the 18th Century home he had purchased in 1984. After experiencing strange poltergeist-like activity such as footprints on walls and dark shadow figures lurking in the night, Ken and his girlfriend Debbie would begin to experience something even stranger: typed messages left on his computer, seemingly from a man living in the 1500s. As time wore on and the messages became more unhinged, the man behind the messages would begin appearing to Debbie in her dreams. The man often appeared in her nightmares draped in flames, until one day he began appearing not in her dreams - but in person. Join us as we continue on with the confounding mystery of the Dodleston Messages and tune in next week for the harrowing conclusion of this classic British paranormal mystery.

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write angst ?

@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)

know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)

decide on the type of angst you are going for!

major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.

and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.

are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.

moving on to actually writing it-

Tip 1 - Use sensory details.

her eyes brimmed with tears

his chest heaved

pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt

his scream pierced my heart

her lips quivered

she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)

show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.

Tip 2 - how to actually write it.

If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.

use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.

the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.

what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?

there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.

Tip 3 - crying.

what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?

what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?

make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.

while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.

focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.

have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head

best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);

3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)

Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.

there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.

and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)

Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)

[wwpia]

Part 2 -

Syd does as such, resuming paperwork in usual office - albeit no longer with partner across from him. (I imagine office floor plan is fairly compact but also is fairly fancy for a ‘police station’ type environment. This is like… the executive suit type room lol. See floor plan.

Syd filling out paperwork/reports - is called into chief’s office to discuss new reports/assignments

Syd walks to chiefs office, en route in elevator bumps into Faustus

Syd instantly hates him because he’s being gross (cramming an entire bag of crisps into his face at the rate of knots and pressing all the elevator buttons) assumes he’s a potential suspect and basically pushes him out of the elevator (They’re both twats here equally. Faustus is being obnoxious, Syd is being pretentious. They both started it.)

Syd arrives to the chiefs office - quick intro to Tammy as assistant chief of UK WWPIA. Chief/Tammy have a clear friendship/rivalry going on with a bit of banter

Explanation to Syd of assigning a new partner to him given the potential urgent state of drug reports/ongoing dangers to human/HPO alike (attempt at empathy as Sydney lost his partner but also need for someone to essentially protect Sydney. Syd becomes instant ice queen. Emotional constipation.)

Explanation of new partner flown in from the UK - substantial experience with this particular drug issue/has followed all leads extensively. Causing perpetrators to essentially flee the UK.

Wait for a bit as ‘new partner’s is clearly running late, bit awkward. Syd is not impressed at all.

Faustus arrives! Clearly has been running to get to office. Hostile recognition between Syd/Faustus as they realise that they actually have to work?!? Together?!?!?11111.

Initial start of planning collaboration by chief/Tammy, doesn’t get very far at all as Faustus/Syd start to argue - both fairly instantly and openly rejecting the notion of working with each other. they’re both equally childish, insulting each other looks, intelligence, country (oof) etc etc.

They pretty much are about to murder each-other (mostly due to Sydney calling Faustus a ‘mangy Monster mutt’ lol try saying that real fast. Faustus EXTREMELY insulted, threatens to rip his throat out, lovely). Tammy loses her temper and floods the whole office with boiling hot water (chief is just like, sighing and standing on the desk at this point)

Tammy gives them both a literal boiling hot telling off about responsibility, childishness, actually thinking about something else than their egos - like the children and people they are supposed to protect.

Made more effective by the fact both Syd and Faustus have to both stand on top of the chairs they were sitting on to avoid being boiled alive. Sydney nearly falls off his chair but Faustus catches him and hoists him bridal style above the broiling water. they both suddenly find that they have become mature individuals in the face of being steamed to death.

Tammy relents - satisfied with the progress. All water drains away (yep she knows exactly what she’s doing)

Funny moment as Faustus is just… still standing on the chair with Syd in his arms. Syd is extremely embarrassed, Faustus unceremoniously drops him flat on the floor.

Re-evaluation of case goals and chief orders Syd/Faustus to work together. Syd grumpy, Faustus cocky. (Turning Point 1)

Leave office with pretty much both Syd/Faustus threatening to get the other fired.

Chief/Tammy makes bets on who will break first - Chief bets Faustus, Tammy bets Syd. (Spoiler, Tammy always wins every bet).

Interlude later as Faustus settles into new office space, he’s unapologetically untidy and lives n ‘organised chaos. Sydney hates it so much.

Faustus asks about Yumez’ wing piece hanging on wall, Sydney basically tells him to stfu.

((Insert interim case - related but unrelated case here. IDK. A siren goes bonkers on HBO Uber drug and makes everyone jump into the sea. Syd and Faustus have to work together. It goes nowhere evidence wise. too much water.))

Actual work time - Faustus gives brief on information of his previous work in the UK. He has worked to discover various drug runners, indicators to show that drugs are more organised and stem from a previous military objective (essentially creating super soldiers to fight - both human and HPO). Although this ultimately failed, emerging strains of the drug are now popping up.

Faustus starts to explains the military project, although Sydney is already aware. Military scientist, experimenting in children/DNA extraction/monoclonal antibody production. Obv Faustus does not elaborate his own particular involvement as being a child subject of said experiments.

Joint acknowledge/understanding/discussion of seriousness of situation - not just ‘druggies doing druggie things’ but a whole repeat of tragedies past.

Both Syd/Faustus still clearly dislike each other but willing to put aside differences to work together (the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Kinda??) (Turning point 2)

Reports handed in about HPO turning feral/violent for no apparent reason - Syd/Faustus assigned to interview in person. Syd initially very reluctant (poor bby, ptsd from previous incident.) Faustus calls a lil bitch, service resumes as normal.

Syd/Faustus go to get info from potential suspect (not having confirmed anything, just attempting to ask those involved with incidents, asking witnesses etc.)

Highlighting Syd/Faustus different ways of working, literally a sort of bad cop/good cop dynamic. Sydney more authoritarian, direct, and willing to threaten with punitive action. Faustus exactly the opposite. Both unappreciative of the others approach.

Faustus’ instincts lead him to a Nagi street vender, Sydney (initially) hanging back as Faustus tell him to kindly FO. Faustus starts building good rapport with vender, pretending to be someone who wants to sort of ‘be more in life’ .

Vender suspicious but genuinely convinced by Faustus’ act (because it’s honestly half true), Faustus turns up charisma to persuade vender to give him some drugs. Vender gives Faustus a ‘sample of the goods’ - explaining its effects (feeling more powerful, having more energy etc)

Faustus just about asking where they came from when interrupted - second (human, magic user) accomplice to Nagi noticing Sydney’s WWPIA badge (as he’s still hanging around attempting to rubberneck).

Human attempts to attack Sydney magically (type of magic?? Undecided) - obv surprised to find Syd also extremely talented in magic use, they start fighting - they order Nagi to escape (obviously an underling of the human).

Faustus attempts to apprehend the Nagi, tackling them before nearly getting suffocated/overpowered, Sydney in turn facing difficulty as human witch more than willing to hurt others in the crowd while he is not. They both kinda just fuck up? I guess? (To be refined).

Nevertheless they both have managed to come out of the encounter alive, Sydney managed to ascertain information from his opponent (Nagi mafia tattoo, black magic, a note of locations of factories). Faustus also has his ‘sample’ of the drugs and overall modus operandi of why/how the drugs are being delivered.

Post encounter, they’re both pretty banged up - they both get into office and start arguing, they’re both frustrated and annoyed. They both pick holes in each other’s way of working but eventually concede that if they’d actively worked together, the incident would have gone better (yay, character growth!)brief interruption as new name starts appearing on Yumez’ wing piece on the wall - it takes a little while to reveal itself, wing scales turning colour /shifting to reveal a name.

name is Juan L Balcarce! Military scientist and madman - cue extremely gob smacked reaction by Syd/Faustus as this individual was very much thought to be 6 feet under. (Kind of like Peter Pettigrew from HP!)

Syd/Faustus discuss plan of action now with this new information - Sydney for his part is more curious as to how this insane scientist has managed to evade authorities, understands that realistically he is potentially behind new a merger e of drug synthesis but is much more… clinically analysing about it.

Faustus on the other hand is very much NOT (obviously with his own traumatic experience with this individual). Basically loses his temper and punches his own desk in half. Sydney (foolishly) mocks Faustus for being emotional, Faustus (understandably) rounds on Sydney violently and berates him for not being able to ‘understand what it’s like to know the person who ruined your life is fucking still out there’.

Interruption from tannoy/notification from lab to advise lab work/results on confiscated drugs have come back - Faustus storms out angry while Syd left a bit shook up.

Syd goes to chiefs office, albeit reluctantly to advise he does not believe Faustus is ‘emotionally stable’ enough to resume correct management of case. Obv chief know more than Sydney does - advising Syd to at least talk to Faustus re subject details.

Resume office work together, Sydney somewhat on Faustus’ case re paperwork (he’s notoriously bad) albeit impressed at Faustus’ ‘organised chaos’ approach.

Discuss of drug trafficking/Nagi mafia routes - Nagi mafia notoriety for city wide underbelly activities, very family oriented. Will protect their own at all cost.

Both review lab report of drugs apprehended - concluded differing strengths of drug/their effect. Lowest level able to just produce a ‘high / feeling of being powerful’ - highest level causing literally full body extreme changes in HBO subjects. Adult a mainly effected, children have to take a significantly higher dose to achieve more extreme effects. (Reassuring both Syd/Faustus a small amount). Lab also reveals from gathered from Syd/Faustus that the drugs are indeed linked to mafia type Nagi family organisation, including several warehouses across the country.

Syd/Faustus prepare to get to work, but not before Syd attempts to broach subject of why Faustus so heavily invested with catching perpetrator of this drug production (genuine professional concern).

After reluctance Faustus (honestly) advises how he was a uses of said lower level drugs before obtaining a more stable job in a bakery - bakery owner actually willing to give him, a complete mess - a chance at giving himself a better life. This went a bit south as member of the public falsely accused Faustus of contaminating food. Bakery owner persecuted for endangerment to human life - complete misunderstanding due to shitty laws.

Faustus describes how how was an a crossroad in life, to go back to doing drugs and being bitter (including being with GF, Nia. Person equally, if not actively more bitter) or could choose a path to changing the system/being a better person - he chose the latter.

Sydney shows sympathy at this/admiration on turn, admitting he hasn’t really gone through the same thing but explains how he knows what it’s like to go against someone who has very specific plans for you (his father), takes strength. He acknowledges the hardship.

(Turning point 3 - They both like ‘yeah mate, gotta love a shit childhood LOL’)

((Interim case? Maybe something to highlight Faustus’ increasing desperation to find this scientist - becoming far less objective))

Sydney considers their options - both do some more paperwork (I mean, it always has to be done right?) they discuss their plan moving forward and plan of action as they (mostly Sydney) have essentially been ‘found out’ to be tailing drug dealer suspects… but it the same time drug production facilities are in fixed facilities.

Syd departs to talk to chief again cos he’s lil bitch like that (soz man but ya are), discussing possibility of undercover inspection of factory facilities. Advises he doesn’t believe it wise to include Faustus anymore as too emotionally compromised in with the case.

Chief has to concede as agent impairment/personal involvement a major factor in exclusion of case, places the order for Faustus not to resume field work. (After Chief then makes call to Tammy - bet lost number 2! He was betting on Faustus quitting first.)

Sydney returns to discuss this/inform Faustus of this (does so with genuine kindness as doesn’t want it to be a shock announcement from the chief - Faustus obviously very pissed. Another argument about professionalism/emotional detachment. All very dramatic, Faustus leaves Sydney in office.

Next…few?? Weeks?? Sydney is working with another WWPIA agent, much more junior to Sydney/even Faustus. He doesn’t like it, at all. Agent is an overall yes man/woman and or/possibly looks up to Sydney a LOT. Very unhelpful, albeit sweet. Sydney regrets his decision. (Sorry man, you did this to yourself!)

Faustus briefly seen talking to lab staff although actively avoiding Sydney (he literally grabs his crotch and flips Sydney off in front of everyone. A really big FU. All witness are vaguely amused - everyone has no doubt waited for someone to put Sydney down a bit. SorryNotSorry.)

Both Syd/New partner are assigned to stake out new witness reports of factory with drug ingredients potentially going in and out. Syd very much taking the lead in his style, choosing staking out the place from afar whilst mapping all incoming trade routes. All very analytical - his assistant is taking very many, star stuck notes. We do love an impressionable teachers pet.

Syd/his assistant performing a stake out of the factory - enter is Faustus! He’s undercover.

Faustus undercover as a homeless/drunk/possibly drugged HPO, Syd watches as Faustus acts (extremely convincingly ) outside of factory. Factory is a clothes/sweatshop type factory so prime employer of extreme low wage workers, the exact target of the drug peddlers!

Syd’s assistant immediately wanting to call for backup (gud, rule abiding boi) but Syd stops them realising Faustus’ actually doing a damn good job. Watches as Faustus initially gets into a bit of a tuffle at the entrance with a gator-type HPO. Faustus overpowers gator-HPO but then immediately makes friends (macho men, amirite?). Gator-HPO invites Faustus into the factory.

Sydney (and assistant) gobsmacked at this, assistant scared and concerned at blatant rule breaking. Syd extremely worried at every that could go wrong with Faustus perceived plan but decided ‘fuck it, let him cook’.

They wait for hours, clearly Faustus is being made to work or someshit. Assistant questions Syd as to why he was ‘allowing’ this blatant disregard for WWPIA investigation procedure. Syd has to admit while his approach or methodical etc, Faustus’ brings are much more intuitive/rapid results etc. Assistant tentatively suggests perhaps maybe, in that case, they are the perfect pairing and complement each other very well (acknowledging their own inexperience/incompatibility as Syd’s partner). Syd is way more embarrassed than this then he lets one as he initially thinks of a ‘differing’ partnership. (Aw, baby’s first feelings - don’t let it break ya brain.)

They both observe Faustus coming out of the factory a while later, looking to leave. Fortunately basically going past Sydney’s car.

Sydney renders the immediate area ‘invisible’ as to not attract attention and accosts Faustus as soon as he nears the car. Faustus in turn nearly wipes the floor with him (in surprise, as well as being on edge already) Clearly hopped up on factory delivered drugs - honestly nearly folds Syd over the hood/bonnet of his own car like freshly ironed laundry.

Quick realisation that all parties are ‘friends’ - Faustus pretty scares the shit out of Syd and his assistant, but also advises he’s found the exact location of the actual factory that is producing the drugs.

Cut back to WWPIA headquarters, Faustus in isolation as still under influence of drugs, but undoubtably has cranked up progress of investigation to high gear. F essentially in jail cell, cranky, angry and more overtly mean than usual.

Sydney brief talk with Faustus in cell - Faustus divulges he was one of the child experiments (kind of blurted out in frustration to Syd’s ongoing ice queen demeanour) - information of which not really placed in reports. Obv Sydney shocked by this - camaraderie/understanding as Sydney now stands now why Faustus wants to find said scientist.

Meeting held with Syd/Faustus - Faustus EXTREMELY reprimanded in terms of behaviour - especially by Tammy. (she’s a fierce bish that Tammy. She dun give him a right tongue lashing about being an example of HPO behaviour.

Syd in his turn is turn is reminded by Chief, lesser so but no less emotionally jarring - like ‘are you really going to throw all your colleagues under a bus? Fucking come on.’

Nevertheless leave with new objective: infiltrate main factory of drug operations.

(Ugh this is where my story turns to mush because I am out clever enough to write out espeionage bs, help!)

Syd/Faustus prepare for infiltration of main factory (in a rural location - away from most people). Sydney able to magic a discussed and aims to be a tag-along to Faustus (Faustus suggests a younger/lankier/sicklier brother to himself - Sydney is infinitely insulted but concedes ths is a good idea). Faustus now been recommended to assist in factory production as a heavy machine lifter.

They both do just this, entering into said factory & soon get to work - factory is very ‘sweat shop’ type business model, Humans and HPO alike laying on floors just trying to sleep on the job, starvation rife, overt incidents of violent punishment etc. Not a nice place. Sydney struggles as not used to hard manual labour, Faustus protects him as older brother type figure - as insulted as Sydney is,this dynamic works extremely well.

They are both gathering a huge amount of information - they both ascertain that Nagi mafia/drugs that they are producing is now being hugely funded by an unknown scientist. Previously their working conditions were betters but now with new partnership things have been massively worse. A lot of unrest and unhappiness. Nagi boss has previously seen to be untouchable is now seen as the ‘second in command’ of this scientist. Nagi clearly have huge loyalty for the boss though, akin to mafia family dynamics.

Unceremoniously invited to meet said boss - Syd/Faustus assume it’s a factory boss but nope! It’s THE boss, of the whole feared Nagi mafia boss. (Insert The Godfather Theme Song I suppose. Pfft.) Blake Alba. Her name literally names Black & White… because its a pun. I’m clever. Ha ha.

Syd/Faustus keeping up the false facade of being factory workers/interested ‘family members’. Blake initially playing into this, sweetly, gently, dangerously. She seems initially impressed by Syd/Faustus’ ‘brotherhood’ - expressing how that has somewhat disappeared from her own ‘family’/business.

Faustus/Syd initially keeping up the act of attempting to make like they’re just a pair of doofuses’ trying to get into Blake’s good books - she seems to like it. Until she doesn’t. (typical mob boss behaviour).

Orders all the underlings to leave and attacks Sydney (or Faustus? Who cares? Either at this point) - coiling him up and squeezing him with the intention to kill. Syd attempts to use his magic but is completely negated by Blake who also uses magic - albeit dark magic. His and hers completely negate each other, although she’s the one squeezing a person like a wet dish cloth lol.

At this point the jig is up - Faustus’ in desperation admits fully he just wants to see the scientist behind all of it punished and put to justice. This immediately stops Blake mid killing spree, turns out she’s 1000% for that shit!

Blake decided that she is happy to not kill them / is willing to help them in their plan.

((AUGH, this is where may planning has gone hazy. IDK what can I say? I’m tired. Help?))

VVVV unformed bs plot territory VVVV

Forward scenario? tentative? Blake aids Syd/Faustus in getting into ‘upper ranks’ of science/lab. maybe on a different week? With a lot of planning?? IDK All evidence points to scientist looking to jump ship again to another country so they need to apprehend him ASAP.

Lol just imagine Faustus bullshitting being a lab assistant, nearly blowing himself up. Sydney now the one who has to regularly save his butt. They’re pretty prepared this time, or so they think? (Help? I don’t know wat I’m doing.)

Once again… get to meet the boss, feel like a repeat in theme is like like ‘omg why we got to get our butts handed to us again?’. Except this time is much quicker - only brief intro into Juan L Balcarce before he’s kind of like ‘oh yeah, those bitches? Knock em out.’ He does so, sweet? Land of nod for Syd/Faustus.

^^^^End? Of BS plot territory. Maybe? Like. Know what I’m doing. Cries.

Syd/Faustus wake up in the middle of a massive cylindrical type room. Tied up to a control pole via their wrists. Syd has magic negating cuffs, Faustus has silver cuffs burning into his skin. Neither are happy about it. At all.

Juan does his whole villain monologue, unlike them he’s pretty chipper! What a psycho. He details his plans of worldwide distribution of his drug, how this as a setback was relatively minor as all countries are all too eager at the idea of ‘enhancing’ their military power. He’s only too eager to have a free supply of desperate guinea pigs! Even children, but impoverished adults are the BEST.

Faustus obviously VERY angry at this, finally alluding to his own involvement - Juan seemingly sweet in response, admitting how Faustus was probably his ‘crowning achievement’ in terms of experimental success. But eh - you know, upwards and onwards!

Juan also offers Sydney to chance (or idea of it) about being involved in experiments, entertaining the idea that humans are just not ‘special’ enough. Sydney declines, vehemently.

Juan decides to leave (stairs? Elevator? Whatever takes the longest mate), admitting now that current base had been compromised but wasn’t really really a set back for him. (Insert villainous plans and ‘aw, you did so good but not good enough bitches.’)

As he leaves , he advises Faustus to ‘enjoy the ride’ and for Sydney ‘good luck’, both of which don’t really know wtf he’s talking about.

Syd/Faustus both initially argue about who’s the biggest dipshit (because you know, MEN.) Before actually trying to make a plan, Sydney notes that his crystals are on a lab table out of his reach, Faustus notes the doors are completely sealed off. The walls are vertical surfaces going upwards. They are fcked but trying you know?

Quick change of tone as Faustus starts going a bit loopy - starts singing, being really annoying and… overall starts dragging them around central pole basically high as a kite. Sydney very, very unimpressed and confused until they both realise that Faustus has most likely been drugged when he was unconscious.

Obvs tone kind of a bit more serious as Faustus flips from panicking to being high, Sydney in turn attempting to break cuffs or do anything to help the situation.

Lastly Sydney attempting to calm Faustus down as he has an actual full blown panic attack. - before ultimately Faustus isn’t able to hold back anymore (he even tries to knock himself out on the pole, doesn’t work - guess he has a hard head? Figures).

Faustus transforms into his uber were/dragon form, it’s a pretty gross transformation. Syd is (understandably) terrified as he’s hoisted up the pole like a frikkin flag.

Faustus in monster form snaps his own and Sydney’s cuffs easily just through having massive limbs. Sydney is freed but dazed from dropping like… 16 feet I guess. (-pets his broken body- Sorry mate, I assure you it’s going to get better…. Later.)

He comes face to face to Monster!Faustus with the pole in between them, Monster!Faustus stares at him for a second before lunging for him. Luckily for Sydney, M!F’s vision s kind of shitty, he bites down onto control pole whilst Syd parkours away like his life depends on it. (It does.)

Sydney runs to get to previously mentioned crystals, he grabs them to them and forms a blue spherical shield around himself - kind of like a hamster in a ball! M!F proceeds to punt said ball around the room. Poor Sydney, there is only terror for him at this point.

Insert pinball noises. Man, anyone also remember playing Pinball Space Cadet? I do! I’m so old… anyway. Back to torturing Sydney!

M!F decides to toss Hamster!Syd into the air then catches him, chomping down with force. He then starts shaking. (Good god the G forces must be insane)

Sydney is actually a BAMF, but nevertheless can’t keep up for sheer pressure. He has a full set of pretty chunky crystals and each just crumbles away into grey dust as he depletes them in quick order. M!F is just biting through shields like someone popping a lightbulb.

Eventually Sydney runs out of crystals - he gets thrown across the room, he’s got a broken arm but other ok. Tries to defend himself but honestly it’s a bit futile.

M!F seems to look to round on Syd/eat him in one go - quick thinking (genius actually) Syd yells at Faustus (by name - important note) to stop.

M!F does stop! In fact he actually wasn’t trying to hurt Sydney, just kind of thought ball!Sydney was a toy of some sort. M!F turns out to be fairly passive, like a really really big.. .slightly scaled/horned dog. He tries to to pick Sydney up again, Syd yells at him to stop (because ew, gross. Also pain.) - M!F is very upset/concerned.

Brief POV of Faustus in monster form - literally in his own monster!headspace. Everything is colourful, everything is cartoony, he’s just a black German shepherd/wolf type puppy and Syd is just a baby bunny. He sees Sydney as a baby bunny. He doesn’t know wtf he’s doing. (Look up Baby Bunny Screaming after Being Rescued from Hungry Dogs on YouTube, that is what he thinks he’s doing. He’s a big idiot.

After a bit of mutual understanding (Sydney ascertains Faustus is actually present and he’s not going to eat him), Syd attempts to figure out a way out of essentially ginormous, smooth sided pit. M!F decides to expedite this thought process by simply grabbing Sydney in his mouth (he very mouthy this one) and starts climbing vertically.

Lab workers/whatever lackeys try to shoot at M!F climbing up the shaft - it just doesn’t deter him at all. Syd is appropriately terrified.

M!F emerges from lab shaft - then horks up Sydney up like a hairball. (Yeah, that’s right, he did swallow him - probably more to keep him safe than anything else.)

Sydney understandably horrified, but no time to complain (Alright, maybe a LITTLE time. Enough for a ‘you fucking swallowed me?!’) as Juan is actually also there - equally surprised (and now actually angry) that they’ve both survived. Currently moving to a personal helicopter/mode of getting away.

(IDK what can I say, he clearly walked up the stairs lol? Or maybe not? Maybe he’s just so full of himself?

Juan not too happy he has two potential witnesses - decides to take them both out at once, with a suitably outrageous weapon. I mean, it’s the only way really - imagine taking pistol potshots at t-rex, just isn’t going to work. Maybe something something explosive, projectile, handheld? A bazooka?

(God this all sounds ridiculous but I honestly can’t imagine wtf else would be used. CRINGE.)

Juan shoots, he hits on target as M!F rushes to cover Syd. He’s suitably smug and arseholish in his perceived victory, yes Juan, everyone is very impressed by your bazooka.

Except M!F isn’t, turns out it takes a lot more firepower to take him out. (that said, he obviously IS pretty injured) He doesn’t really give much warning though as he unceremoniously lunges for Juan, tosses him into the air and chomps down. He then eats him. Sorry Juan you had your cringe villain monologue, byeeee.

Syd is in shock (probably…. Actual physiological shock by this point to be fair. Oof), Juan’s ride tries to run away (probably screaming something like ‘I didn’t sign up for this shit!!’.

M!F attempts to go after this person - Sydney stops him as technically just an innocent bystander. M!F obeys, still a gud boi.

Sydney procures a phone from the late scientist’s travel case - proceeds to phone WWPIA headsquarters.

For context, this ‘lab’ they are currently at is far, far away from the previous building they had entered. Potentially (and likely) that they had backup crowding the previous place… but not where they are now. I imagine it to be… an abandoned cotton mill or something.

Syd explains situation to Chief/Tammy - for their part they probably had everyone looking for them. Syd explains their exact location - emphasis on the ginormous monster Syd is now walking around with.

Plan set in place and risks involved - M!F is way too big and too volatile to go near members of the public. Tammy orders Syd to lead M!F across an out of order/in repair suspension bridge over a river opposite the lab. (Sounds a bit strange but reasoning is if he were to go bonkers then there would be less rampaging space.)

Syd distracts M!F with a shield ball - he’s got just about enough magic to maintain for a fair while to lob down the length of the bridge. I imagine he has to do this a few times as M!F comes back with it and notices the hostile blockade at the end of the bridge. (Oh, no no! Don’t growl at them! Look at this! What’s this? (Baby talk voice) Lookaddaball! Who wants da ball? You do! You do! HUP! haaa….. Fuck my life.)

Meanwhile meets with Tammy (in between, you know. Ball games i guess) at her blockaded end of the bridge to enact her plan. She gives him a shotgun type weapon - brief explanation that it is a modified ‘dragon killer’ type weapon. Meant to previously pierce the hides/kill dragons. Explains one side is a sedation dart designed for the approximate weight of M!F, the other is a ginormous silver bullet. Essentially ‘okay so either this works or… he rampages and you kill him! Lol good luck’.

Sydney follows through with this plan although obviously really doesn’t like it. He does a last ball throw, waits until M!F turns his back and takes the shot (did I mention Syd is a top marksman? He is the best).

Brief tense moment where M!F screams/roars at being shot in the arse. (I mean… who wouldn’t be angry at that?) Looks like he’s honestly going to lose his complete shit as he rounds to see wtf hurt him. Syd prepares the next shot as… well yep, thats the next course of action - as much as he hates it.

There’s a pause as M!F realises Syd is in fact actually the one who shot him. He clearly quickly goes from YOU! To… oh my god you hurt me?! He then limps over to the ball-shield and starts rolling it towards Sydney in the manner of a kicked puppy thats been told it’s a bad dog and is trying to get back into your good books. It’s all very sad.

He doesn’t get very far, the sedatives start kicking in and he soon collapses into unconsciousness in front of Sydney.

Tammy immediately starts directing WWPIA staff to load M!F onto a timber lorry type vehicle - explaining to Syd (and reader) that the drug duration time is about 12 hours. Faustus was given said drugs about 3 hours ago - going to be a long night!

Syd gets medical attention/is taken back to WWPIA headquarters - he feel a bit shit overall as this whole event kind of sinks in.

(Woof, what a MEATY chapter.. part… whatever. I don’t know if thats enough with the ‘filler’ events. I feel like there should be more in the way of… I guess maybe less important missions/things for Syd/Faustus to do that aren’t critical story wise. For a bit of breathing room. These are kind of the core concepts I guess that bring these two characters together.)