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captain-joongz · 1 year ago

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Abraxas; Act 1, ch. 1

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police officer!reader

Genre: angst, humour and some fluff, investigative, dark themes, sloooooowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Chapter summary: As a new addition to the organized crime unit after a huge corruption scandal burnt through it, it definitely wasn't easy to seamlessly fill in and join the team. Tasked with menial shit and kept away from the actual investigation, my patience ran out after meeting the one man the unit was after, Min Yoongi, thus leading me to getting myself involved with one of the most dangerous men in the whole of Korea.

Everything is fair in love and war, isn't it? And this was war.

I would take him down, no matter what.

Word count: cca 26k

Warnings: reader is somewhat innocent and naive (in a sense that she's very idealistic), there will be brief reader x OC, but worry not, Yoongi is endgame, nothing much here, workplace sexism, some slight discussion of illegal stuff, description of the boys as criminals, reader is just a tiny bit obssesed with taking Yoongi down, some slight stalking (illegal tailing and stake out)

Series masterlist | Next Part

A/N: welcome to the first chapter of my new series! i have a ridiculously soft spot for mafia yoongi fics, so this is a child of me watching daechwita and haegeum too many times drooling over min yoongi himself, i hope that you stay with me throughout the entire ride and enjoy yourself as much as i did when writing this <3 i will attempt to update this every month, the semester is starting soon again but i'll be having less classes so i should be able to do it, take this love letter to long-haired yoongi <3

"That which is spoken by God-the-Sun is life; that which is spoken by the Devil is death; Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word, which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible."

- 3rd sermon, Seven Sermons to the Dead, Carl Jung

Winter, first year in the force

“Minjoon, for fuck’s sake! Move it!” the booming voice of Senior Inspector Park rang out through the station as the poor man in question scrambled to put on his jacket, grab his badge and gun and ran after him. When he was passing by my table, he sent me a little sympathetic smile and then hurried to catch up to our superior before he left to make the arrest without him.

I sighed heavily and then sulkily returned to filing away some old hand-written cases. It’s been 3 months since I’d been assigned to the Organised crime unit, fresh out of academy and full of hope to change the world for the better. The second I got my badge I sent in my application to SMPA, hoping to make it to violent crimes. Instead, I was pushed to this division. The official reason was because they were lacking manpower, which wasn’t exactly wrong, after what happened. But I knew what they were really trying to do – clean up after a huge scandal that broke through this unit just a few months before my joining, when several young policemen were caught tampering with evidence and reselling confiscated drugs. After a few tough rounds of investigation, three men were fired from this unit and several others from affiliated places.

That meant that when I walked through the door, all rosy cheeked and wonder eyed, excited to start my career, the reception was more than icy. Senior Inspector Park, who was in charge, barely ever spoke to me except for barking out orders, and I was almost never allowed to do any actual work, always confined to the office and left with tasks that no one else wanted to do. My colleagues were ranging from cold and reserved to actual full-blown assholes, happy to take advantage of young blood knowing I couldn’t say anything in return to my seniors. Except for Minjoon, who actually made effort to be cordial, everyone in this hellhole was insufferable. Thus, I pissed away my days filling out forms, cleaning out cabinets, cataloguing files and putting old files into the system.

I looked wistfully out of the window and just caught the sight of our team’s van leaving the parking lot of the station. It was an arrest pertaining to our current leading objective – an informant was finally able to gather enough evidence for us to be able to interview one of the higher standing members of a gang this unit was currently focusing on. They knew we most probably wouldn’t be able to keep him long, after all it wasn’t that substantial at all and his boss always found a way out of any arrests, but it was better than nothing – we’d annoy him at the very least. That’s what Park always said anyways – never let them forget you’re hot on their trail, even if it meant being a little petty.

I walked over to my computer and sat down. All I could do was wait.

It was a surprisingly short amount of time until Senior Inspector Park came barrelling through the door with three men hot on his tail dragging a tall, handcuffed man with them. Unlike what you’d expect from an arrested man, he had a serene expression on his handsome face to a point he almost looked smug, lazily walking and letting himself get pushed around by eager officers, not a hair out of place and his expensive suit looking absolutely pristine.

They briskly walked through the office space to the back hallway where the interrogation rooms were situated, not sparing a single glance to anyone still sitting by their computers. By the disinterested short glances of the present colleagues, it was obvious that this wasn’t that unusual here. I myself was a witness of similar arrests of members from this gang, but this was my first time seeing someone this high up. This wasn’t just anyone. It was Kim Namjoon.

With careful peeking around to see if anyone was looking my way, I made sure the coast was clear, and then curiously moved after them into the hallway. I walked to the very back and lingered for a moment by the door, gathering courage, before grasping the handle and confidently walking into the listening room. Park was sitting there with a senior detective by his side, watching as Minjoon and his partner prepared the computer to start their interrogation while Mr. Kim sat there looking bored. Park looked to the door and did a double take when he noticed it was me. A disapproving look etched itself onto his face and he was just about to say something when I beat him to it.

“Please, sir! I’d never been able to watch my colleagues during interrogations, I want to learn,” I pleaded with him, “I’ll be totally quiet, you won’t even know I’m here!” I clasped my hands together in a praying motion and gave him my best puppy eyes. He looked at me and it almost seemed as if he was considering my words, but then his face closed off again. My heart was beating against my chest as I waited for him to shut me down.

“Don’t you have anything to do?” he asked, and displeasure oozed out of him in suffocating waves. I shook my head. “I was just putting the files I’d been working on away when you returned.” He was just about to speak again when Minjoon in the other room suddenly cleared his throat and began talking to the eerily calm man, asking him basic questions about his personal information and occupation. That sufficiently claimed Park’s attention and he just waved at me and said “whatever, just be quiet”. I bowed to him even though his back was already turned to me but didn’t even dare to mutter a thank you in fear he’d throw me out for speaking.

When I was first assigned to this department, I was warned that this particular unit unfortunately was a sausage party – no female officers in sight. While my colleague’s distaste of me never really felt overtly sexist, I knew some of them doubted my capabilities as a female detective, and Park was definitely one of them. He didn’t shy away from speaking out about how he’d always worked only with men and male officers and how a woman in a unit full of men would only bring trouble and unnecessary drama. He never got over the fact that they pushed me on him and didn’t listen to his bullshit.

While none of them ever asked me to make them coffee or bring them lunch, I knew that they kept me occupied with work that they viewed as “softer” and “more suited for a woman”. It infuriated me to no end, but I just needed an opportunity to showcase my skills. I didn’t need their approval; I just wanted to fully do my job and not be stuck at a desk all day.

I knew one day I’d get that. No matter what it took, I would make it happen.

I was brought out of my reverie by a shockingly deep voice that struck me to my core as I was wholly unprepared for it. Kim Namjoon, who was completely silent until now and only nodded along or hummed, had finally started talking. I didn’t catch the question and I barely made out what Mr. Kim said in answer, but my attention zeroed in on him in a second and refused to let go. I knew who he was very well, after all, his picture along with several others was hanging on our wall in the meeting room, all connected to each other with strings, intel and many, many cases we were trying to push against them. I’d see him every morning when I walked in, every time I went to the toilet or for lunch and every evening when I was leaving.

But in his picture, he looked very different – hostile and angry, with a face full of fresh bruises from a recent fight, miles away from the suave self-assured man currently occupying the room in front of us. He had a domineering aura to him and even if he was supposed to be here as a suspect, he gave off the vibe like he wanted to be here more than anywhere else. In a sick twisted way, he fascinated me to no end. I’d seen mobsters before, petty thieves and drug dealers, tatted up, with foul mouths and hands dirtied by crime, but this man was a whole different class with his sharp eyes and sneering mouth, dangerous in a way that made the hair on my arms stand up. He knew how to mask his violence and that made him even more terrifying.

“I see that you have a law degree,” said Minjoon cooly and I saw Mr. Kim subtly roll his eyes, “Is the work you do for him pertaining to that?”

“We talk about this every time we see each other,” he answered coldly, “You know I have a degree. You also know that I currently work in accounting. You have my file memorised to a point that you probably know my measurements better than I do. Let’s not waste time with pointless bullshit.”

“Accounting is a very broad concept,” Minjoon didn’t let himself be intimidated and matched his indifferent attitude, “I want to know what exactly your line of work is.” Mr. Kim looked at him and put on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry, officer, what is my arrest pertaining to exactly? Why are these questions relevant to whatever you brought me here for?” he said in a professional voice, his eyes glinting in challenge.

I stayed there and watched their back and forth for whole two hours. The whole time Minjoon drove hard questions about the exact nature of Mr. Kim’s work while the said man played hot and cold with him, teasing him with little remarks and then returning to cold professionalism or prolonged periods of confident silence. I learnt that the intel they’d been delivered this morning was a vague allusion to certain tactics of tax evasion that were closely related to his boss’s smuggling activities. But all these were easily deconstructed by Mr. Kim in a matter of seconds.

It seemed that everyone involved (even Mr. Kim himself) already knew that though and judging by Park’s intense focus on Mr. Kim’s mannerisms and speech, this was about something completely different. As I found myself splitting my attention between the lawyer’s fascinating dance and my own superior’s complete interest, I realised that he was studying him. He was learning him. And for the first time, since this was the first time I saw him in action, I felt real respect towards the older man and his dedication to his work. This wasn’t even about being annoying, it was a purely academic endeavour. I found myself lightly laughing at the revelation.

Behind the glass Mr. Kim was running the two officers in circles, never surrendering any new information and only regurgitating bits and pieces we already knew in different context, and I could see how exhausted Minjoon was becoming.

I was stepping around by the door, alleviating a certain leg to ease the pain and discomfort of standing for such a long time, also nearing my limit, when Park leaned closer to the mic, pressed the button and said: “take a 10, let’s talk”. Hearing that, Minjoon and his partner stood up and with unfriendly smiles thanked the clever lawyer for his cooperation. They left the room and in a minute they were pushing into the listening room.

When Minjoon stepped in and saw me, he looked surprised for a split second and then gave me a kind smile, which I returned, while his partner stared rather impolitely. Park didn’t pay attention to any of that, eyes never leaving the sole man in the interrogation room, who was now leaning back on the chair and picking his nails in a bored manner.

“As expected, as a lawyer he’s skilled at this,” Park muttered, “What a talented prick, if we didn’t know it already, I bet we wouldn’t be able to get even his name out of him.” The officer sitting next to him finally spoke for the first time.

“Still,” he argued, “this is the first time we’ve managed to actually get him to the station. It means something. Min’s gonna be pissed.” At the mention of the name, Park smiled animatedly and nodded quite happily. I tried to blend into the wall while I watched the men converse and try to come up with a new strategy.

“It’s clear questioning him leads nowhere,” Minjoon added to the convo, “He doesn’t even seem bothered by it. Just look at him. He has all the patience and time in the world.” He motioned to the glass and the man sitting calmly behind it.

“I’m not surprised, he’s had years of experience dodging the police like this. Fucker’s barely thirty and yet has already spent more than a decade covering up his boss’s mess. That’s more than I’ve spent in academy and the force combined.” We all turned to look at Minjoon’s partner, officer Hwang, who was dispiritedly leaning on the doorframe. He was right, but Park didn’t seem to be put off by that.

“That’s how it works here in this unit,” he said firmly, “You sometimes spend years just to get a chance at arresting someone. We’ve been working on this for almost a year and we’re already starting to get somewhere, but this is only the beginning. We need to learn how they work and that takes time.” No matter what my personal opinion was on him, I could see that Park was truly an experienced detective when it came to organised crime. I made a mental note to myself to pay attention to what he says carefully and learn.

They talked for a little while longer when suddenly a commotion was heard back in the office space of the station. We all looked at each other, some more surprised than others. Park got up and pushed his way out into the hallway. As he was passing me, I heard him quietly mutter “here we go” as if this was the main point of the evening. And I quickly realised why.

When I also pushed my way into the hallway and peeked over Minjoon’s shoulder, I was able to see a man confidently making his way through the station flagged by two others. Before I had a chance to gasp at the sudden appearance, he’d already stormed all the way to us.

Just like with Kim Namjoon, seeing his face on a picture on our wall every day could never prepare me for the experience that meeting Min Yoongi was. I was beginning to curse the people who chose the pictures, because they were clearly dangerously understating these men’s aura. With longer black wavy hair, sleek black jacket, black tee and ripped jeans, standing there looking both incredibly angry and incredibly bored, was one of the most dangerous men in this city and the man Kim Namjoon called master. As did half of the city’s criminals. To an ordinary person he was just a businessman, an owner of a few clubs and, recently added, a hotel in the posher area of Seoul, but to us he was a leader of a gang that rose in power and ranks so rapidly it was like witnessing a wildfire. The blink-and-half-the-forest-is-gone kind.

I’d never met him before, and judging by officer’s Hwang flabbergasted expression, I wasn’t the only one, but the man in question barely paid any of us attention. He walked up to Park as if they were old friends, cruel annoyed smile on his face.

“Here I am!” he proclaimed in a faux sweet voice and threw his hands into the air, “That what you wanted? You come into my house and steal my things when I’m not looking now?” Park returned his smile in a similar manner. He was extremely pleased at having pissed off the man to this extent.

“Mr. Kim was lawfully retained due to suspicions of illegal activity,” he answered the man, “He was arrested in one of your clubs.” Min Yoongi’s eyes minutely flitted over to me and there was a tiny spark of surprise and then interest.

“Huh, you’ve got fresh blood here?” he asked all jokes and games, “How come I’ve never met her, isn’t that like a rite of passage here? Coming to see Uncle Yoongi?” He waved at me and laughed like he was encountering a cute animal in the wild. I felt the anger coursing through me, but I knew this wasn’t the situation to lose my cool, so I just scoffed and turned away from him. He fake pouted and then put his attention back on my senior, suddenly turning all serious again. Watching his moods swing was like trying to keep up with a bouncy ball in an empty room.

“Whatever, just release my man,” he said firmly, “You know that anything you came up with to get him here is bogus, so just let him go and I’ll let this slide.”

“How gracious of you,” Park gritted through his teeth. Tensions were beginning to brew between them, and the more annoyed Min Yoongi was, the more teeth showed in his wolfish grin. Just when I thought the whole building was just going to combust, Minjoon stepped in.

“We are legally allowed to keep him here for eight hours at the minimum,” he said calmly, “It’s only been two and a half.” The man’s whole attention shifted to my colleague and, standing behind him, I saw how all-consuming it was to be at the centre of Min Yoongi’s focus. His intense stare and dangerous smile only deepened having noticed just how much he was throwing me off balance. I knew he was getting off on intimidating people and I tried to not give him the satisfaction, but suddenly coming face to face with him, I wasn’t prepared to withstand it, especially since he was so intimately familiar with our entire force that a new face stuck out to him like a sore thumb.

“I know that,” he retorted sharply, “But he wasn’t brought here to be questioned. He was brought here because he-“ Yoongi pointed in Park’s direction “-wanted to know how long before I showed up to bail him out. So, here I am. Release him.” Minjoon looked at our superior with questioning eyes, but he only nodded.

“Let Mr. Kim go, we got everything we needed from him,” he smiled pleasantly in Min Yoongi’s direction, “Have a nice day Mr. Min.” With that he moved back into the office. Mr. Min’s attention once again shifted to me and Minjoon, watching with rapt interest as he moved towards the interrogation room, and I followed him like a loyal shadow. The moment the door opened, Mr. Kim was already hallway outside, coming to his boss and giving him a half hug. Neither of them said anything, they just shared an amused smile at our expense and then turned around to leave with cheeky smiles. As Min Yoongi was rounding the corner, he winked my way. Absolutely flabbergasted by his behaviour, I couldn’t get the encounter out of my head for the entire rest of the day.

While much of Min Yoongi’s childhood was a mystery to us, we had a pretty good idea of what his life was like since around he was 16. So, a good decade of criminal life. As a young teen, he started an apprenticeship as an underling of one of the former ruling gang’s top men, and basically was brought up by him into the man he was today. While the old royalty was torn apart in succession wars after the old master died and his four sons all decided they should be the sole heir, Min Yoongi started up with his own few loyal followers, all who today are his most trusted closest subordinates. With cruelty, tenacity and violence, he took the city by the storm and before they knew it, he was ruling most of it. Too caught up in trying to kill each other, neither of them reacted fast enough to stop young Yoongi’s rise to power. Today, with the original gang wiped out, his was undoubtedly the one at the top of the food chain.

He started with one club and now he owned several of the most prestigious clubs in the city, making enough money to buy him a hotel and finally catapult him into the sphere of honest business. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid of me to show up to one of them to “scope it out”.

Peeved by our last (and first) interaction and driven by the need to prove myself to my unit, I’d decided that the way to go was start right on his turf and dig around. I’d believed that with how much business he had to take care of, both legal and not, there’s no way I’d show up at the right club at the right time to actually meet him there. How foolish. They did always say that he stayed at the top by working endlessly, stupid of me to not actually take that into account.

I didn’t even know how I managed to actually get into the club, considering the long waiting list and lines outside, it was a miracle one Friday evening I found myself sitting inside Dynamite, one of his clubs, watching everything go on like a hawk.

I knew this was something that was rarely accomplished by the people in our unit. Maybe a few months ago they had the liberty to sneak onto his territory, but currently he knew very well about our interest in him, and everyone associated with our unit quickly got blacklisted from half the establishments around the area, owned by Yoongi or not.

I knew that anything pertaining to illegal activity would definitely be taking place in the VIP zone with private booths and waiters, so getting there was the actual challenge. Somewhat foolishly I decided to just try my luck and think of the plan as it went. Little did I know just how easily I’d manage to get invited in.

I was just sitting there minding my own business when I felt a presence next to me. At first, I thought nothing of it, thinking they’re probably just trying to catch the barman’s attention, but suddenly I felt them press into my personal space. I sighed, annoyed, turning around to send whatever sleazy flirt that was trying to get into my pants to hell, when my breath caught in my throat. Sitting next to me, leaning on the bar with a million-watt smile was none other than the owner himself. I cursed every god in existence and three generations of their ancestors and steeled myself for what was coming.

“Didn’t expect to see a police officer letting loose in one of my clubs,” he drawled out playfully, “They all know which ones to avoid. I suppose you’re either stupid or up to no good.” I rolled my eyes to him and turned back to look onto the dancefloor.

“My friend insisted we go here,” the lied slipped through my lips easily, but by Yoongi’s smirk I knew he didn’t believe me one bit. “Oh, and where does this friend happen to be right now? As far as I could see, you’ve been just sitting here glaring,” he laughed at me lightly, as if we were just two friends teasing each other.

“Do you have a habit of watching partygoers like a creep?” I bit back at him, annoyed at being sniffed out so quickly. What are even the chances of him being at this exact club the night I decided to snoop? Something not of God was on this man’s side to arrange a coincidence like that.

“No,” Yoongi answered with a teasing lilt, “But I do happen to remember faces very well. Two weeks ago, you’d slip right by me, but now I know you’re an officer.” I cursed under my breath, and he laughed again. Then he stood up and turned to me. Suddenly a hand was offered to me.

“Come on,” he said, this time a little more serious, “Let’s talk.” I ignored his hand but stood up to follow him. He snickered and started in the direction of the VIP zone. We were currently on the ground floor, which was the general area with a dance floor dominating the centre of the room. The VIP zone was situated on a little gallery overlooking the ground floor.

The flashing lights, bass boosted music and mass of moving sweaty bodies made it difficult to orientate myself in the space, but I kept my eyes on the back of Yoongi’s head as he leisurely made his way through the crowd like he had no worry in the world. He led me to stairs that were cordoned off by red velvet rope, with two very big and very angry men standing on each side. When they saw Yoongi coming near, they both put on professional smiles and bowed wordlessly. He didn’t react to them in any way, just waited till they let him through patiently. As I walked in behind him, they both stared me down as if I was about to jump on Yoongi and stab him right in front of them.

I knew this was probably my only and last chance to get a look around this place, since after being found out I’d definitely get blacklisted just like all the other police officers, so I hungrily scanned the VIP zone and tried to take in all the details. It was very dark there; some booths were out in the open while some had curtains and it was surprisingly packed with people. Waiters were busily buzzing around, serving drinks and appetizers, hum of conversations and laughter carried through the space comfortably. At first glance, you couldn’t see anything wrong or illegal going on, just young people having fun, but I knew better than to trust that.

I followed Yoongi through the area all the way to the back, where one corner was similarly cordoned off. The couches and tables were situated in a way that allowed a little more privacy and separated the space a little from the rest of the people. This must have been his personal lounge.

He made himself comfortable smack in the middle of one of the couches and I timidly sat on an armchair right across him, with a small table between us. Immediately waiters descended onto the space, bringing in plates of appetizers, most probably assuming all kinds of crazy shit since Yoongi brought a woman to his personal zone. The man in question was nonchalantly asking for some cocktail and acting as if this was a completely normal situation and I wasn’t the police. I declined his offer for alcohol and just uncomfortably sat there, watching him settle in.

He gestured to the food and said: “Do you mind if I dig in? I haven’t eaten the whole day.” I gave him a polite smile and told him to go ahead. Yoongi started filling his plate, sharp eyes watching my every move while offering me various food items with annoying courteousness, smirk in place on his lips cause he knew just how much he was pissing me off. It was absolutely crazy – here I was, small-talking with a man I was trying to get behind bars.

Then I had to sit there while he enjoyed himself with his appetizers. When the silence stretched enough to become awkward, I started losing my patience.

“Have you brought me here to watch you eat?” I barked out annoyed, crossing my arms in front of my chest and leaning back into the chair. He looked up from his plate with a little amused smirk. Then he finally put it down.

“Why exactly are you here, officer?” he got straight to the point, “What are you hoping to accomplish?” He mirrored me and leaned back into the couch, his form slouching comfortably with hands laying on his thighs.

“Isn’t that obvious?” I answered, sudden insecurity taking a hold of me. Why was I supposed to explain myself to this guy? He smiled and this time it wasn’t as ferocious.

“I fail to see how this helps in your divine plan to put me under.”

Truth is, I didn’t know either. I was angry and frustrated that nobody was taking me seriously, the encounter with him last week only serving to push me further over the edge. I didn’t know how this was supposed to help, I just knew I needed to do something. Anything. It was better than just endlessly sitting behind a computer typing away. I had to do something that would put me on the radar in my unit and if it involved humbling Min Yoongi a little bit, I was all in.

Truth was, no matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I was shaken by him. Seeing in flesh this fabled monster, having him stare and smirk at me while he shamelessly strutted around a police station as if he was untouchable, it took everything in me to hold up under his scrutiny. But now, sitting across from him and returning him the favour, I felt some control slowly trickling back into my hands and it calmed me.

He was watching me contemplate with rapt attention and suddenly I was reminded of the prickly feeling of having his eyes trained solely on you. They were dark, so much darker than in the bright daylight in the middle of a police station, and all-consuming in a way I’d never encountered before. It felt as if he was reaching straight into the centre of my being and pulling, pulling something out of me. I shook my head subtly and looked away.

When I failed to answer him or defend myself, he sighed.

“Look, I’m saying this, because you seem like a really naïve genuine person,” he started, “Take this advice to heart – don’t bite off more than you can chew just to stick it to some old guy. This is a dangerous place for people like you, don’t get pulled under.” Now that made me angry. Somewhere deep down I realised that my stubbornness actually was putting me in danger and that I was stupidly jumping headfirst into things that could be my end, but I was so done with getting treated as a fragile little thing.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” I answered him prickly and sat more defensively. Yoongi looked at me and for a moment I could see a glint of something almost melancholic there, but then he was all wild grins and suave demeanour again.

“Let me speak frankly for a moment,” he said and winked conspiratorially, “You decided to single-handedly take down a whole gang, allegedly, that controls half the city, allegedly, because your superior is a sexist pig, that doesn’t seem like biting off more than you can chew to you?” Every time he said the word “allegedly” he smirked a little and I could see he was having fun playing around with me like this. I smirked right back at him and leaned forward until I had my elbows resting on my knees.

“Who said anything about single-handedly? That’s what teams are for,” I whispered teasingly, “Why do you even assume it has anything to do with Senior Inspector Park?” I tried to mask the genuine emotion, but he still must have realised that one was actually spot-on.

“I’ve known Park for quite some time,” he explained and leaned forward as well, “Heard about him a long time ago, been seeing him here and there for years and then been in personal contact with him for about a year now. He’s an excellent policeman, no doubt about it, but even I know he’s a shit person. He lives for his work, but in personal life he’s a jerk.”

“He’s a jerk at work too,” I couldn’t help myself and muttered. To that Yoongi laughed lightly, eyes gleaming at me. “Should I be asking how you even know about his behaviour outside of work?” I quipped in quickly.

“I’d be stupid if I didn’t run some basic checks on people that are hell-bent on making my life difficult,” he answered me with a dangerous glint in his eyes, but quickly relaxed again. I found myself tensing up and relaxing alongside with him. The realisation that talking with him was like constantly walking on ice and hoping that even though you hear cracks you won’t fall in, hit me square in the face and put me off balance again. He kept effortlessly flip-flopping between joking and being serious and I was starting to get whiplash from it. I decided to leave this subject behind.

“So, what is your advice exactly?” I returned to the previous topic, “To just let you go and leave you to your little crime syndicate? Live happily ever after knowing you’re out there?” He snickered at that.

“No, you can do whatever you want,” he said, “I’m just warning you to be careful. This, this space right here, it has its own rules. It’s very easy to end up badly.” It didn’t feel like a threat even though it may have been worded like one, imagine my shock when I recognised actual genuine emotion behind his words. Instead of shying away from it, I bored my eyes into him just as intensely as he did to me.

“Rules or no rules, no one is above the law, not even you, Mr. Min,” I told him prickly. He smiled at me sardonically and then sighed again, but this time it was more amused.

“Since you’re someone that spent most of their life studying the law, I’m surprised you still haven’t realised that it’s quite useless,” he laughed and I could see the switch in him, becoming meaner and smiling cruelly, “The only thing that law does is fuck over those who are already in a bad place and benefit those who are already in a good spot.” He laughed mirthlessly and continued. “No one is above the law? Oh, my dear, many people are above the law. All you need is money and power and not even God can touch you on this mortal plane.” I took full offense to his words, feeling the anger overpower my instinct trying to tell me this man could potentially be extremely dangerous.

“Spoken like a true criminal,” I spit out venomously, “That’s a load of bull.” Yoongi’s eyes flashed minutely and then he relaxed into the couch again with a lazy smirk full of sharp edge. His hand suddenly pointed somewhere behind me. “You see that guy? That one in the striped shirt?” he asked.

For a moment I debated whether I should turn my back to him or not, but my curiosity overpowered me. Steeling myself for potentially getting attacked from behind, I turned and searched in the crowd of people. There, a little to my left, was sitting a group of young men. Each of them had a girl or two by their side, they drank and laughed and looked exactly like the kind of company I’d never want to find myself in. One of them, sitting on the far edge of the couch facing me, was wearing a horrible unfashionable striped shirt. I turned back to Yoongi with a queasy stomach.

“Yeah, I think I see him,” I told him suddenly quietly, unsure of where the conversation was going. Yoongi leaned forward to me again as if he was about to tell me a great secret.

“He could walk over here, steal your gun, then walk outside and shoot someone straight between their eyes in front of a street full of people, and you wouldn’t be able to charge him with anything. You wanna know why? His father sits in the parliament. Before you knew it, he’d be skiing in the Alps while you faced losing your badge because you crossed a politician.” Yoongi smiled at me triumphantly and my stomach swooped again.

“This kid comes here four times a week, each night breaking at least five different laws at a time,” Yoongi continued meanly, “and the most trouble he’s ever gotten into with the law was a parking ticket his father took care of for him.” He waited for a moment to see whether I’d react, but when I stayed silent, he went on. “Go ahead and arrest him, officer. Go over there and pull out your badge and bring him into the station with you. If you test him now, you’ll probably find every drug that’s available on the street in his system. But I guarantee you, you won’t be able to keep him there longer than two hours before you’ll be steam-rolled by his family’s lawyers.” He threw his arms into the air in a pompous gesture.

“Look around here. This place, it doesn’t work because I came here and brought crime with me, no. I sprung up here, because they needed a space to do rank shit in. You could bring me out back, shoot me in the head execution style, and tomorrow you’d be sitting back in that chair talking to the same clown in different clothes. The way this goes is that you find a spot that works, and you grab onto it, and you hold on for dear life until someone either kills you or puts you away. I’m like mold, darling, wherever there’s a place damp, cold and dark enough, there I will grow. I’m a product of the people. Not the other way around.” I felt bile in my mouth as I looked around the area and saw the little evidence of illegal activities. Girls too scantily clad and flirty to not be working, powdery smudges on the tables, prints of guns under jackets. Behind me, Yoongi kept going on in his spiel.

“You put me behind bars, and tomorrow there’s going to be the same guy doing the same shit in the same place. The people will keep coming here and they will keep doing their thing here, it doesn’t matter to them who runs it, as long as they can fuck and get high in here.”

I turned back to him, and he was just sitting there like a king of the underworld, sardonic grin on his face while he looked over his hard work. He was beautiful and terrifying at the same time and there was something demonic about him in this dark lightning with shadows dancing over his face and cruel lips curved around sharp teeth. I felt my throat close up as panic seized me, shaking hands gripping onto the armchair to attempt and get some stability. My stomach was protesting, and I feared I might throw up if I stayed there a second longer.

“You’re disgusting,” I whispered. He smirked.

“And you’re naïve.”

I got up, turned around and left without looking back. Still, I felt his eyes burning into me all the way home.

I was soullessly staring into the computer, hopelessly trying to focus on my work, but instead I kept coming up short. My mind was elsewhere, unable to comprehend anything that was written in front of me. The fateful meeting with Yoongi had already happened a few days ago, but I still haven’t shaken off the effect of it.

His words, as cruel and self-righteous as they were, I knew there was truth to them. And I knew I had to do something about it. I had to do something about Min fucking Yoongi and his empire. So, as shaken as I was by the encounter, it also served to make me more determined. I’d help to bring him down, no matter what.

I stood up from my table and made my way across the office to the meeting room. I wouldn’t be able to do any work anyway, not right now when I was too pumped with adrenaline to focus on anything. I walked in and bee-lined for the back wall, which was covered in pictures and papers. Dominating in the centre was a picture of Yoongi. He was younger there, with short, bleached hair and face still a little plump from adolescence, but I could already see the signature smirk forming on his lips. Under him there were six more pictures, one of them Kim Namjoon which I had met for the first time a little over a week ago. Those were those closest to him, his friends who each monitored a different part of the gang’s activites.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much information on them beyond a few years back. Yoongi himself emerged out of nowhere when he was 16 and made a dent out for himself. At that time, he already knew Namjoon, God knows how. Together they quickly climbed the ranks of the Song gang, which was ruling over Seoul at that time. Back then, they were already notoriously known for their violence and determination, which made them favourites of the gang’s higher ups. They were also quite liked by the underdogs and quickly a group started forming around them. They were Yoongi’s loyalists and this… this was most likely the moment he realised he can soar even higher.

When the Song gang was falling apart, just like war strategy dictates, it was a matter of knowing whose side to take. Between four sons, two were on par, one knew he could only survive by hugging the thigh of the strongest and one was barely hanging on. If Yoongi chose his loyalties correctly, he could gain a lot. If he chose poorly…

But he didn’t. He took Namjoon and their dogs and together they stormed an “enemy” club – it was recently acquired by one of the brothers. He won the fight of course, and then brought the keys to Song Hwan, the weaker of the two winning brothers. He wormed his way in – offered his intel, his expertise and whispered poison in his ear. Every win he got for Hwan was actually a win for Yoongi himself and through Hwan he started laying base for his own road to power. Long before Hwan fell, most of the gang was already following Yoongi’s lead.

When the war ended and Song Hwan stood victorious, Yoongi murdered him and stole his throne. He went on a bloody rampage against everyone that didn’t support him and from the blood and fire emerged a new gang, a stronger gang, and at its centre – the devil himself with his six. That was seven years ago.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses at the beginning though. His territory was contended often – others saw it as an opportunity to steal turf right from under his nose, and it took a long time before his gang was respected in the scene. They thought him to be a child that won by pure luck and love for killing, that he’d be easily taken down, either by one of them or one of his own. But he stood his ground and time and time again he proved himself, until there wasn’t a single person in this city that didn’t know he owned it. These were Min Yoongi’s streets, painted with blood, sweat and tears.

That’s when he started coming up on this unit’s radar until he gradually became the sole focus, the main purpose, the goal.

I stared intently at the mess of strings all connecting together people, events, news and crimes. Missing persons, corruption, arrests, murders, intel, dirt. It was all there, black on white. I reread the headers of the articles, the names of files and the accusations until I was dizzy and could barely make any sense of it.

After what felt like hours, I was brought out of my reverie by the sound of the door opening. I jumped a little and turned around quickly, an excuse hot on my tongue, but relaxed once I realised it was Minjoon.

“What’s up? Jae said you’ve been standing here just staring at the wall for whole 40 minutes,” he said in lieu of greeting and I blushed with embarrassment. So they saw me, I thought nobody here was paying attention to me. I peeked over my shoulder where some of our colleagues were curiously glancing our way. I frowned. Should have closed the blinds, I thought to myself.

“Just… catching up, refreshing the information,” I explained lamely and sat down at the table, still with a perfect view of the cursed wall. He hummed and leaned his back on the table. For a moment we just quietly existed there, side by side studying it.

“What’s with the sudden interest?” he asked a little hesitantly, “Not that I want to discourage you.” I sighed.

“It’s not sudden,” I muttered a little petulantly, “I’ve been coming here from time to time, I just mostly did it when no one else could see. Felt like I wasn’t really allowed to look at it.” He smiled a little at my attitude and went around the table to sit at my side.

“Why not? I think it’s great you’re outwardly showing interest.”

“Just- You know, it doesn’t feel like I’m welcomed here, I didn’t want to overstep.” He hummed again, but kept his eyes trained in front of us.

“So, what’s changed now?” he asked the question of the hour, fingers drumming a pattern into the table.

“I’m done with that,” I said firmly, glancing his way, “I am part of this unit, I’m staying and I’m solving this fucking mystery. I’m taking Min Yoongi down and I’m gonna be looking straight in his eyes the entire time I’ll be tearing his life apart.” Minjoon next to me chuckled, amused by the sudden turn of attitude.

“That’s quite charming,” he hummed again and finally turned to look at me. We both grinned at each other.

“You know… I understand,” he started hesitantly after a moment of silence. We both focused back on the wall and Yoongi’s picture in the centre of it was like a magnet – no matter what you did, you found yourself drawn to it. With slight reluctance I tore my eyes away from it to look at Minjoon questioningly.

“I mean… this, I understand this,” he stated more firmly and gestured between me and the wall, “I was also quite distraught the first time I met him face to face. He has a way of messing with you. It’s a mix of everything, I mean, you go months hearing about the atrocities of this one man, and then suddenly he’s there, right in front of you. And he just stares and stares and stares while talking calmly, too calmly for the crimes that he’s being investigated for. It’s unnerving. So, I understand.”

I knew exactly what he meant. It was the same feeling I had with Namjoon too – you know what they’re capable of, you’ve heard of their crimes and when you see them, you can almost feel the danger in the air, but the violence is hidden just beneath the surface. Sometimes you see it peek out momentarily in flashes of sharp teeth and slanting eyes, but then they reign it in and just play with you again.

“Well, yeah, meeting him was jarring,” I conveniently omitted having met him just a few days ago too, “but it’s not just about that. I just don’t want to be underestimated anymore.” He smiled at me, a real genuine smile, and it warmed me knowing at least someone here was on my side.

“But you joined the team before the whole Yoongi thing, no?” I asked suddenly. For a moment he was confused where this question came from, but then brightened up.

“Just barely,” he answered earnestly, “You joined like three months ago? In early September, right? For me, a one-year anniversary is actually coming up, I joined in December last year. It was just as all the shit was going down. They were investigating mainly this mid-size gang in Incheon that was wreaking havoc in the harbours and steadily rising in power. There was a lot of corruption in that area, and they managed to snatch control over some ports. The unit had been working on it for about two years and were super close to an arrest, but it went bust. The guy fled, a question about the corruption in the force rose and an investigation into our guys started. That’s when I joined.” I hummed in sympathy. That must have been extra rough. I told him as much and he gave me a thankful smile.

“It wasn’t easy. When I asked to be transferred, I thought everything in this department was okay, then I walk in and suddenly I’m in the middle of a botched two-year operation, forever lost suspect and a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Minjoon kept talking, “Within few weeks, the three guys had been suspended and a more in-depth investigation was promised. The case was lost, the boss had managed to flee somewhere south, most likely Malaysia, so it was put on a backburner and instead an open case that was sitting on someone’s table, slowly piling up more evidence, was brought forth. That was the Min gang. Two teams had already been tasked with looking into it and when it was confirmed that the previous case was dead, they made it a priority.”

I jumped in quickly to ask more questions. I’d never asked Minjoon about his time in the force before and till today I didn’t even know he was here only a year. He was always Park’s first choice to everything concerning Min Yoongi and he relied on Minjoon and his partner Hwang a lot, so I assumed he must be one of the more experienced members of this unit.

“Where were you stationed before?” I asked curiously and put my attention on him instead of messing with the wall.

“I was part of the drug prevention team,” Minjoon clarified and gave me a grin, “I was one of those fools they dress up nicely and send into schools to warn kids. It’s still a part of the force, but it’s a dead-end spot and you don’t actually do much, at most you here and there deal with some petty criminals selling weed on the street. It’s usually where older policemen go when they want to have some peace and quiet before retirement, it’s not the best place to start your career. But thanks to that I was able to make it here, cause my expertise on illicit substances was a big plus.”

“I see,” I laughed, “You’re right, that is pretty much a dead end. I didn’t even know they assigned youngsters there.”

“Well, they try to, because kids are nicer to them and they take it easier from someone closer to their age,” he explained, “Some graduates actually do ask for the position, but I was trying to get here and didn’t make the cut.” He was still smiling kindly and occupied himself by playing with the string on his hoodie.

“I was actually trying for the violent crimes unit,” I confessed quietly. I’d never told that to anyone here. Besides the fact that they absolutely weren’t interested in such information, I was also kind of scared they’d be acting even more hostile since I “clearly didn’t even want to be here”. “I got sent here because of understaffing problem,” I continued.

He looked at me and didn’t react in any way, just leaned back and said: “Oh yeah, we do work with them quite often. Can’t have organised crime without violent crime. If you survive it here for some time and make a little name for yourself, I’m sure it would be easier for you to transfer. But a lot of people strive for violent crimes, so it’s kinda cutthroat to get there.” I relaxed at his words and finally smiled back fully.

“Yeah, maybe I could make it there if I help with Yoongi,” I muttered and focused back on the wall, “I’m sure, considering his reputation, that violent crimes have their hands full with him.” Minjoon stood up and walked over to it. He raised his hand softly tapped on a poster of a missing man.

“Actually, unfortunately it’s more about missing people,” he said, “He has a great clean-up team, it’s super messed up.” His hand moved downwards and this time he tapped on a picture of two men. “You know these guys?” he asked absentmindedly.

On the photo, there were two incredibly familiar faces. One man a bit taller, with wide shoulders, dressed in a nice suit, his perfectly sculpted face in a neutral expression and framed by light brown hair. By his side there was the second man – a bit shorter but with much fiercer displeased expression. His hair was cut into a mullet and the hair just about touched his shoulders; he was clad in a fitted black turtleneck that gave away his strong lean muscles.

Of course I knew them. In this whole building there most probably wasn’t anyone who didn’t know them. Actually, I’d argue that in this entire city only a few people had the pleasure of not knowing.

“I’d be an embarrassment of a police officer if I didn’t,” I joked at him, “It’s Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok, they’re part of Min’s six.” Minjoon smiled approvingly.

“Tell me everything you know about them,” he challenged, teasing, “Shoot.” I gave him a wolfish grin as excitement coursed through me. He was giving me a chance to show I’d really been studying this case. I sat on the table and made myself comfortable.

“Kim Seokjin studied medicine and has a degree. He poses as the main seven’s personal physician, but the assumption is that he most probably deals with all wounds of anyone from the gang that were sustained during any illegal activities that cannot be taken into hospital. He owns a house up in Gangnam, just a few streets from Yoongi himself, and has a clinic there. He’s the second son of a pretty wealthy family, his record’s completely clear and it’s unknown how exactly he came to know Yoongi or became involved with crime.” I looked at Minjoon from the corner of my eye and he was just humming, but there was a pleased smile on his face. That gave me courage to continue.

“Jung Hoseok on the other hand, has been arrested several times for assault or causing bodily harm while getting into fights, but never prosecuted. Then he went off radar only to reappear a few years later as a part of illegal fighting rings. He quickly rose through the ranks and was a champion for three years straight. But that also means he most probably killed a lot of people, since these fights only end when one of the two fighters drops dead. It’s presumed that’s where he met Yoongi and became familiar with him.”

Minjoon nodded along and patted my shoulder. “Good job, newbie, you really did spend ungodly amount of time here,” he joked, but I felt the praise anyways. My cheeks heated up and I couldn’t help but feel intense satisfaction.

“It’s mainly Hoseok that’s in charge of clean-up, but Jungkook also participates. They do both clean-up of unwanted people and clean-up of unwanted evidence. Sometimes those two cross over. In other words, they both murder and get rid of it,” Minjoon spoke, his face serious, “I mean, that’s our theory anyways. If we were able to catch them murdering and disposing of a body, they’d already be rotting in jail. But the point stands – there’s a huge number of missing persons tied to this, mostly petty criminals or people known to be associated with enemy gangs. No bodies though.”

My eyes flitted to the picture of the mentioned younger man. Jungkook’s picture, for me, was really hard to look at, because unlike all the others, he was just a kid in his. It was an old photo, most likely taken from a yearbook, with his serious face still round and cheeks full of baby fat, dark hair cut short and styled neutral, but it still hit too hard. Especially when my eyes slid lower to a more recent photo, which depicted Jungkook standing on a balcony smoking, all hard edges on his emotionless face, long hair blowing around and blurring out his tatted-up fingers holding a cigarette and black shirt bulging with muscles. He was the youngest and it was also a mystery about how he became involved with Yoongi, the most we knew about him was that he came from a lower middle-class family and led an unproblematic school life as one of the top students. Where he met Yoongi, or even how he started to involve himself in illegal activities, no one except for them knew.

“The rest of them, as I’m sure you’re already well familiar with,” Minjoon continued talking, “are trying to look more legit. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin oversee some of his clubs and help him with the hotel and restaurants too. They try to seem like stand-up men with no ties to the underground to grant him an air of an honest man. And Namjoon, well, you’ve already met him. He’s in charge of the finances and that’s exactly where most of the crime is the most visible.” I nodded at him and gestured for him to continue.

“Yoongi’s smuggling in insane amounts of goods, everything from luxury items and artifacts to alcohol, exotic foods and ingredients, to drugs. He sells it to himself, supplies it to his own clubs and restaurants for dirt cheap and then makes crazy money on selling it to clients. If you ask for VIP treatment, you get it deluxe – you don’t have to lift a single finger, Yoongi supplies everything. You want a unicorn? He finds a way to smuggle it in. You ask, he delivers. Namjoon’s job is to make all this look legit, so that he can’t be busted.”

It was so much to take in, but I was finally starting to make sense in it all. Even though I’d been reading the files and trying to catch up on the happenings, there were things I was confused about, things that were lost in context or just lightly referenced without more information, and I had no way of fully understanding it until someone properly explained it to me and filled me in. I was waiting for it to happen in the first few weeks, even asked about it once, but I was shut down and quickly realised that no one was planning on talking to me about it. They rather kept me busy with petty stuff and didn’t let me get in on the operation. I was eternally grateful to Minjoon for taking the time to properly explain what they’ve been doing the past year.

“So that’s why you’re currently breathing down Namjoon’s neck,” I mused out loud, “You want in on whatever magic he’s working to make Yoongi appear as an honest businessman.” Minjoon nodded and added: “And that’s why Yoongi appeared immediately when we brought him in. Park wanted to get a feel of the man. See how he’d behave when interrogated and to test out how strong of a bond they have.” I hummed.

“They’re tight,” I stated, “And Namjoon’s impenetrable.”

We both sat there for a moment, taking in everything that’s been said. I was wracking my brain for a game plan. There had to be something I could do.

“Are you doing stake out missions?” I wondered. He looked at me a little surprised which quickly turned into embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I had no idea you were this much out of the loop,” he said quietly and rubbed the back of his neck. Now it was me who got embarrassed. I was about to stutter out some excuse or an apology, but he started talking again.

“Not currently no, there used to be some in the early stages, before Yoongi caught wind of the efforts. Now that he knows us and knows that we’re interested in him, it’s practically impossible to do stake out missions, unless you just want to annoy him and show him we're there. Not to mention it takes a lot of manpower which we do not have. We’re trying to crack down on the lower levels of the organisation. You know, take in some common mobsters selling substances, threaten them with a sentence and then try to get intel off of them. Some do agree to talk, but somehow Yoongi always manages to sniff them out and they don’t tend to end well. He has a tight hold on everything, despite the size of his empire. Mainly what we gathered is that he is an incredibly paranoid man, he most probably does very frequent inspections and doesn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone just slightly suspicious.”

“Well, in some way, it’s to be expected,” I pondered out loud, “A man that has accomplished this much, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s basically become omniscient.” Minjoon hummed in agreement and flicked some of the pictures around absent-mindedly.

“There was even an attempt to infiltrate,” he said quietly, “We did manage to get in, but it went bust pretty quickly.” I could feel it was definitely a sensitive subject and I didn’t want to pry, but the implication here was absolutely devastating.

“Did he…?” I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the question, but thankfully Minjoon understood. He smiled sadly, shook his head and said: “Thankfully not, but he did end up in a hospital for like two months. They messed him up. He didn’t even return to the force, wouldn’t be able to anyway due to some injuries. When I went with Park to confront Yoongi, he just straight up laughed in our face and told us we’d better feel grateful that he wasn’t interested in becoming a cop killer, because rats in his organisation usually end up much worse. It was the most we’d ever heard him admit out loud, but we didn’t even manage to record it or anything, we were too upset to think straight and missed an opportunity.” He sighed again. I was just glad that the officer ended up okay. At least Yoongi was aware that if he’d killed a cop, he’d become the most wanted man in the eyes of the entire force. There wouldn’t be a moment of rest for him.

Somewhere deep down I felt a little bit of shame though, because I did the same mistake just a few days ago. Yoongi didn’t end up saying anything even remotely that damning, but he still talked to me pretty openly.

I was just about to open my mouth to try and dispel the awkward silence that took over, but Park chose that moment to burst into the room loudly. He didn’t even spare us a glance, too focused on a folder in his hands. I’d jumped off the table in panic and straightened up, but he barely paid attention to anything else. Slowly our colleagues started filing in and taking seats. When after a while no one said anything about my presence, I sat down next to Minjoon, who gave me a reassuring smile.

Park closed the file and slammed in onto the table, then made his way over to the most interesting part of the room – the wall.

“Alright, emergency meeting,” he started, “we just got new info from violent crimes about the disappearance from two weeks ago.”

As I sat there and half listened to the information presented, a plan was starting to hatch in my head. Although Yoongi knew about me, could even pick me out from the crowd, I had to figure out a way to tail him. And when I did, I had to find out more about what Hoseok did. And where. And how. While my unit focused on Namjoon and worked from the bottom, I had to learn about the most criminal aspects of this gang to cover all the grounds. I had to catch a killer.

I’d never been on a stake out mission before. That was one of the few things they didn’t teach at the academy, and I had to figure it out all on my own, while trying to tail a man that probably knew even how many pieces of ham I put on my toast that morning (it’s always two).

Once I pulled information about Min Yoongi’s probable whereabouts, all I had to do was jump in my car and go find him, which was easier said than done. I’d decided to do this in my free time, since asking for the permission to tail him would most definitely not be met with much excitement in the department, especially since they themselves have given up on it.

Now, here I was, sitting in my car at 4 am on a Friday, intently watching a posh house in the middle of Gangnam, hoping that Yoongi is either already in there or soon to return. Since through my snooping I was left with several addresses all ranging from clubs, restaurants and a hotel through factories and warehouses to offices, I figured my best shot would be to catch him while leaving his house rather than running through half of the establishments in Seoul. I also pulled information on the other six, but quickly found out that we had working addresses only for like four of them, so no luck staking out Hoseok’s house or anything.

I was desperately trying to keep myself from falling asleep, the fact that I only slept 3 hours catching up to me, my head drooping and my eyes barely staying open. The house was dark, and I figured at this time he either had to be getting up soon or coming home to rest.

The next three hours were absolute hell. I was so tired, fighting sleep and frustration, I had gotten extremely hungry because I ate through my snacks in boredom, and I was losing my mind. Nothing was happening. Not even a shadow moved on his property. The fact that Yoongi was now probably sleeping happily in his bed, not a care in the world, was pissing me off beyond belief. And another thing – I was freezing my ass off. Duly noted – tailing for dummies: don’t do it in winter.

I had just begun losing hope that Yoongi’s even home, when suddenly a light came on somewhere in the house. My heart jumped with excitement, and I was so happy I could cry actual tears. It seemed that he started his day around 7 am. I wrote it down into my journal and ignored the rising feeling of being a total creep, keeping records on someone like this. This was a professional endeavour. I was doing it for the greater good.

I watched as the lights slowly moved downstairs to the ground level where Yoongi must have been messing around in the kitchen. At 8 o'clock the door opened, and a lady walked out, turning around presumably to say goodbye only to be narrowly missed by Yoongi immediately slamming the door shut behind her. She started shouting something and banged on the door for a little bit, screaming expletives and other interesting comments, before calling it a day and sulkily walking away. I took a look at her as she was walking by and winced. Damn, I definitely didn’t envy her the walk home in those heels. Godspeed, sister.

When the clock hit 8.30 am, a car rolled to a stop in front of the house and Yoongi himself walked out in all his glory. This time he was wearing a classic black three-piece suit with a white shirt, hair slicked back behind his ears, phone in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. He didn’t look around at all, just sped all the way to the car, got in and in a second, they were on their way god knows where.

I took a moment to check my own reflection. Compared to the sleek mafia boss, my hair was messy since I barely even brushed it that morning, my face puffy and unkept and I had an old, stained hoodie on. I was almost embarrassed. Almost. After a moment I’d decided I gave them enough space and pulled out of my spot.

I had the list of potential addresses sitting out on my passenger seat and as we began weaving through the city, I was trying to guess where they could be going. My mind was constantly on keeping enough of a distance to not look suspicious but be close enough to not lose them in the morning traffic. With my heart beating out of my chest and damp clammy hands tense on the steering wheel, I managed to follow the car up to one of the clubs.

The car had just stopped when Yoongi briskly jumped out and jogged to the entrance. He disappeared inside for about 20 minutes and then he emerged again, a briefcase in hand and a smile on his face. I jotted it down into my journal and then we were on our way again.

I spent my day like that. Yoongi had always rolled up to a club, for a moment went inside, then came out again, sometimes holding something and sometimes empty-handed. Once I even managed to catch a glimpse of one of his six seeing him off. Based on the head full of soft blond curls, it must have been Park Jimin.

Gradually as I went after them, I relaxed, setting into my new role. My journal was getting packed with information, mostly useless things about where we stopped for now. I would be able to put it to more use once I had more stable and reliable info about his routine.

Around 2 pm he went into one of his offices and stayed until 9 o'clock, after that he went back to the club where he met Jimin. I was all cramped up from sitting in my car the whole day, my back absolutely killing me. I was hungry out of my damn mind, and I’d run out of water an hour ago. I just wanted him to go the fuck home and stay there, but he stayed until midnight. When I finally saw him walk back into his house, 1 o’clock in the morning, I was done and tired, but regretting nothing.

That’s how my life went on for a few days. I’d spent full three days tailing him, showing up at his house at around 5 am (I’d given myself an extra hour, but I didn’t want to risk missing him leave) and then drove around the city jotting down all the places he went to and all the things he did. Currently my journal contained everything from the various items he carried around his clubs to his order in Starbucks (which I wrote down very reluctantly, but I figured since I’m already there, I shouldn’t half-ass it). When it was time to go back to work, I’d taken the journal with me and discreetly wrote down any kind of new information that my team brought in.

It was my fifth day of stake out when it all crashed down. I was feeling good about myself, thinking maybe I’ve managed to actually dodge his attention, but I also realised I knew nothing about the kind of scoping out his bodyguards did. When Yoongi moved about, he either had some stone-faced strangers I’d never seen before with him or there was Jungkook by his side, and I quickly came to the conclusion that his job must have also entailed keeping Yoongi safe. It seemed that I never actually popped up on their radar, I’d never noticed any suspicious glances around, no one from Yoongi’s squad had ever even looked in my general direction, so I thought I was good. I wasn’t.

I was sitting in my car, leisurely eating a subway sandwich. It was 4 pm, which meant Yoongi was going to be in his office for another few hours at the very least (that’s how it’s been for the past four days). My car was parked a little off to the side some distance from the main entrance, monitoring who came in and who came out, while the car in which he came few hours earlier was still parked in the same spot and some of the guys were standing around, smoking and talking. Jungkook was with Yoongi today and they went in together, so they most probably had some free time until Yoongi needed to go somewhere again. It had begun snowing a little while ago and everything felt quiet and peaceful.

Then suddenly my passenger door opened, and a person filed in, settling on the seat with a loud exclamation of “god, it’s so cold outside, isn’t it?”. In a split second my hand went for my gun, but I ended up grabbing empty air – I wasn’t on duty, I didn’t have a gun currently. Panicking I turned to the side, prepared to fight, only to come face to face with a smugly grinning Yoongi. The fear immediately all drained out and instead frustration burst through me like a grenade.

“Fuck!” I screamed and hit the steering wheel. I managed to get the horn and in the distance I saw Yoongi’s bodyguards perk up at the sound, immediately checking their surroundings with hands on what one could only assume were their concealed guns. Out of the corner of my eye I also saw a face peek in through the passenger door window to check on the situation, and realised Jungkook must be standing outside the car. Yoongi was just sitting there, completely unfazed, watching me with amusement.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled and glared at him.

“I could be asking you the same thing,” he drawled out, playing with his fingers unbothered, “Though I do have to praise you, we didn’t know about you for full two days. Guess we’re not used to having to worry about that anymore.” I closed my eyes and attempted to calm myself down. I didn’t need to embarrass myself further by throwing a full tantrum in front of them.

“How did you find out about me?” I gritted through my teeth and willed myself to relax more into the seat, stubbornly keeping my eyes in front of me and not looking over at Yoongi.

“You’ve been tailing me for days, of course we’re going to notice,” Yoongi replied cheekily. Then he gave me a once over. “No gun and no badge,” he hummed, “not on official business, then? Am I so charming that you just have to see me all the time?” He smirked at me playfully when he saw me peeking over, now starting to play with my little journal. It was closed, but I was still tensely watching him whether he’d decide to open it. By his smug expression, I had a feeling he knew what he was holding in his hands, and when he decided to put the journal down with a little playful wink, it was very pointed.

I cleared my throat. “It is official business,” I said, and really, I wasn’t even lying.

“Oh, is it?” he hummed noncommittally, “Because right now you just seem like a crazy stalker.” I looked over at him annoyed and he seemed to be very amused. A disembodied hand knocked on the window. Yoongi looked over and suddenly became more serious. It only lasted a second though, and then he was smirking at me again.

“All I can say is, I’m quite impressed, Y/N,” he winked at me, “Good job. Try a bit harder next time, though.” With one last amused smile he opened the door and clambered out. One hand leaning on the open door, he bent down at the waist to look in and contemplated for a moment what to say. Behind him I could see a hulking black mass as Jungkook immediately moved closer to safeguard Yoongi.

“See you around, officer,” Yoongi settled on in the end and then finally moved away from the door to slam it shut. I was left in there alone with all that cold air he let in and an unsettled feeling. I watched him cross the street to his own car, watched him as he turned around one last time and waved to me, then got in and sped away.

Only when I was left staring at an empty curb, I realised he’d called me by my name.

So… a change of tactic it is. Even though he didn’t say much, I didn’t think Yoongi had gotten into my car to threaten me. Quite the opposite, he seemed almost suspiciously encouraging. He most likely wanted to know whether I’d been assigned on this task or not.

Well, I learnt a few things at the very least. First, tailing everyday with the same car when you don’t want to be discovered is a big no-no (honestly kind of stupid on my part not to have realised that). Second – Jungkook was like Yoongi’s shadow and Yoongi’s bodyguards were all most likely under him too. He must be doing some intense scans of the surroundings, given the fact that after two days they realised a car was tailing them. After that they most probably just entertained me to see what I was doing and took the time to run a background check on me.

So, I had to find a way to be more inconspicuous. I was on their radar now; they would look out for me, and they knew more about me. Renting cars would get too expensive too quickly, it would also make me look very suspicious. My car was out of the question since they already knew it.

Honestly, I was surprised they let me tail them for that long when they already knew about me, but this might be the one time someone underestimating me would actually play into my cards. Because my goal wasn’t to aimlessly shadow Yoongi. It was to get closer to information about Hoseok. And I got a little tiny snippet.

When I sat at my computer at work the next day and stared mindlessly into the wall, I was wracking my brain on how to recuperate from this fumble. The previous night I had been going through my journal for hours, trying to come up with a way to keep a surveillance on Yoongi without letting him know I was following him, when I realised it.

Through the five days, I’d been catching glimpses of the other six. Of course, I saw Jungkook the most, but here and there I’d see Kim Taehyung’s shoulder as he was chatting with Yoongi outside of a club, Namjoon calling someone and smoking in front of the office building, Kim Seokjin coming out of Yoongi’s house, Park Jimin’s profile in the darkness of an alleyway by Yoongi’s car. They were all extremely close to each other and their lives were intertwined rather finely.

And I’d seen Hoseok too. It was for a split second, just a flash of the man’s face through a crack in a warehouse door, but I’d seen him. I had written it down, just mindlessly jotted down “door might have been opened by Hoseok”, and that was my chance. All I had to do now was start investigating that warehouse and move from there. Tonight, I had to go there and scope out the surroundings to see whether there was a place I could comfortably watch the area from.

The door to Park’s office suddenly slammed opened and I jumped in my seat, heart almost lurching out of my chest. I glared at my superior’s back and cursed his habit of storming into rooms as loudly as possible. He walked over to Minjoon’s table and started quietly telling him something. My curiosity won over and I couldn’t help glancing their way. Minjoon caught my eye for a moment and smiled, but mostly kept his attention trained on Park.

After a while of mumbling and several hushed okays, Park briskly walked through the station out to the parking lot and Minjoon and his partner both stood up and started gathering their things to follow him. I mournfully watched them get ready and grumbled behind my computer, but as I was about to petulantly grab some files and put them back into the cabinets, Minjoon came over to me and asked: “You wanna come with?” I stared at him for a moment, completely flabbergasted. He waited patiently until I got my wits about me again and then smiled when I started very enthusiastically nodding. The others in the station were also surprised, but I wasn’t about to give them my attention as I also grabbed my badge and a jacket and followed Minjoon out.

“It’s 7 pm on a Saturday, which means Yoongi’s at the Pied Piper,” he explained while leading me to the service car. Pied Piper was Yoongi’s most successful club, one that sat smack dab in the middle of Itaewon and drew attention with its fancy exterior and sleek interior. It was a hotspot for both locals and foreigners, and young trust fund kids often bragged about being on the VIP list, having the privilege to just come and walk in instead of having to wait endlessly in the line. “That also means that Namjoon’s currently sitting alone in the office. Park’s been tirelessly working on obtaining some insider info and he wants to go have a chat with the lawyer while he’s on his home turf.” I nodded along as we filed into the car and started on the journey.

I was a little nervous around the mysterious calm man. I could handle Yoongi’s endless banter, but Namjoon unnerved me with his silence and sharp eyes. It was as if he was slowly uncovering every little dirty secret you had deep within you just by looking into your eyes, he didn’t even need to say a word and you just wanted to spill all your sins. He was a dangerous man, an intelligent one that knew how to use it to intimidate others.

“Our job,” Minjoon suddenly spoke up after focusing on the road, “is to go to Pied Piper and annoy and distract Yoongi, so Park can have a peaceful uninterrupted moment with Namjoon. He doesn’t want Yoongi to even text him anything, so we have to put on a proper show.”

“I see…” I replied finally, the reality of the task setting in. I was a little relieved I didn’t have to confront Yoongi’s right-hand man, but unexpectedly I felt embarrassment flood me. I’d been having some truly awkward encounters with the man, and he seemed quite fond of teasing me. I was a little afraid he might blab about what I’d been doing in my free time and put a mark on my back within my own unit. I knew he definitely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to put me in a difficult position.

The whole ride over I was preparing myself for dealing with the jokester again and potentially having to stop him from spilling some secrets. So, when we walked up confidently to the bouncer and Minjoon showed him his badge, I was full on panicking, nervously picking on my scarf with shaking hands. While we waited for the bodyguard to relay to Yoongi the police were here, Minjoon must have misunderstood my nervousness as fear of facing the mafia boss again.

“Actually, this is why I wanted to bring you with me,” he said quietly so nobody could overhear, “I wanted you to get over the first meeting, so you could continue with this task. Once you meet him a few times, the novelty wears off and he’s just an annoying dude that commits crime in his free time.”

No, yeah, I already knew that. I could cry inside, that wasn’t why I was nervous at all. But it was better he thought that than knowing I’d actually met Yoongi twice more already and he seemed to be getting quite interested in making my life difficult back. So, I just nodded and smiled at him gratefully, thanking him for bringing me along.

“Alright,” the bouncer suddenly came back to us, “right this way.” With that he turned around and made his way inside the club. I scrambled to follow after him through the crowded area, wading through partying youngsters. I could barely hear anything over the pumping bass of the music and with the flashing lights and crowds I couldn’t even really see what the inside looked like. I saw some dark grey walls, some mirrors and flashy patches of silver met with dark stone, but the rest was covered up with smoke and dancing bodies.

Similarly to the club I’d been to some week and a half ago, we were led to a staircase and up onto a gallery overlooking the ground floor, but it seemed that Pied Piper offered completely private rooms that were in a corridor off to the right, while left side was occupied by a bar. Surprisingly, it seemed that the VIP area also served as a sort of a restaurant, as I saw several couples and groups enjoying a dinner. The sound of the music wasn’t as overbearing up here and it created sort of a constant hum in the background, lending the space some added privacy from eavesdropping.

I expected getting led to a cordoned off little corner somewhere like before, but instead we walked through the entire area all the way to the back, and then up another, albeit a little smaller, staircase to a sort of a half balcony hanging over both the ground floor and the VIP area.

There on a velvet red couch, was sat Yoongi, greeting us with an amused smile. His pitch-black shirt and dress pants were popping with contrast to the vibrant red, just as his pale skin and long black hair was. For a moment I was so consumed by the vision that was Yoongi, that I didn’t even realise there were two other men present.

On a couch to our left, Kim Taehyung sat in all black suit, all spread out with legs wide open and arms resting on top of the couch, wavy dark hair framing his curious face, mischievous expression slowly taking over as he watched us grow more and more restless. And finally, leaning on a wall behind us, was Jungkook. He was expressionless as always and almost blended into the wall with his also pitch-black t-shirt and cargo pants. What was visible of his arms was heavily tattooed and definitely served as make-shift camouflage in this dark space.

I snickered and before I could stop myself, I was speaking. “Did we crash a funeral or what? What’s with the fits?” I glanced at all three of them amusedly. Taehyung started giggling while Yoongi full-on laughed. His face was coloured by surprise at my words and once again, I’d managed to catch his full attention. The nerves I felt combined with my annoyance at the man helped me put up a more confident front than I was feeling and I needed to take full advantage of that.

“Well, personally I think I do look quite ravishing in black, darling,” Taehyung drawled out seductively, righting his posture to lean closer to me, “Don’t you agree?” Minjoon looked between us confusedly and I made a mental note to make some excuse about why I wasn’t a complete wreck in the face of the three men.

I ignored Taehyung’s words and instead sat down on a chair straight across from Yoongi and Minjoon, who finally came out of his stupor, sat down next to me.

“So, tell me, officer,” Yoongi asked noncommittally, “What are you here for this time?” Even though he aimed the question at Minjoon, he was looking at me the whole time and I knew he was also experiencing the same déjà vu as me.

“You know, just checking that everything’s fine here,” Minjoon replied cheekily, watching me out of the corner of his eye, “Weekends can get pretty rough. We wouldn’t want a fight to break out.” Yoongi just scoffed and gestured to the general area.

“You don’t have to worry that head of yours, Mr. Jang,” he replied with a snark that I’d never caught from him before, “We have quite the few very strong and very professional bodyguards and bouncers around here. People know not to mess with them.” He looked back at me and then added: “Would you like something to drink or eat? I must say the appetizers are absolutely stellar today.” With a swipe of his arm, he gestured to the table between us that was decked with food. From my left, Taehyung giggled and leaned in to grab a few grapes.

To be honest, it felt like we were two stupid little lambs that wandered straight into the wolf’s den. And the fact that they were all around us didn’t help. It was finally starting to catch up with me and I nervously rubbed the top of my thighs with my clammy hands. I gulped and looked at Minjoon, expecting him to lead the conversation. I wondered how Park was fairing at the office and whether he’d already met Namjoon.

“Well, it’s our duty to look out anyway,” Minjoon shot back, “Serve the public and all that. Just making sure nothing naughty is going on. People tend to get a little crazy on Saturdays after all.” He was rewarded with a toothy wild smirk, all sharp edges and dangerous glints.

“Yes, they do tend to do that. If I see anyone being naughty, you’ll be the first one I’ll tell,” Yoongi laughed and gestured at the bodyguard at the stairs. He immediately turned around and left. I was on high alert, trying to track him from the balcony and see where he was going. The conversation between the men continued as they traded thinly veiled insults and passive aggressive remarks, while I was frantically searching the crowd.

I only relaxed when he returned to the balcony – a tray of drinks in hand. Each of the men took one – to my horror even Minjoon accepted a glass that was clearly meant for him and took a tiny sip. I gave him a pointed stare. He was the one that drove us here, for fuck’s sake! Not to mention there should be a golden rule about not eating or drinking anything given to you by a gangster in a club he owned.

The bouncer made his rounds, and the last glass was suddenly thrust in front of my face. It was a sex on the beach. It was the single cocktail I ordered and sipped on not to look too suspicious at Dynamite the other week. I shot the man in question a half surprised half horrified look. He was watching me from behind the rim of his own whiskey glass, eyes dark and curious for my reaction.

In the end, I took it because I’d started to feel awkward with the bouncer just standing there with his arm outstretched, but I immediately sat it down on the table, intent on not drinking it. I shot Minjoon another look, trying to signal to him he should do the same, but he was cooly sipping on his and only subtly shook his head at me. I pointedly ignored Yoongi’s gaze hungry for attention. I would not give him the rise he so wanted to get out of me.

“You see, right now I’m only trying to figure out in what club is your partner currently wreaking havoc, to have you here distracting,” Kim Taehyung suddenly joined the conversation, his silky deep voice catching me off guard every time. I jolted, but Minjoon kept his cool.

“You guys know us too well, this is getting a bit repetitive, isn’t it?” he joked back and drained his whiskey glass in a single big gulp, “Guess you’ll have to find out yourself. But entertain me here for a moment, otherwise you’ll just embarrass me in front of my boss and the newbie.”

Suddenly, four pairs of eyes were on me, and a wave of goosebumps ran through my entire being. I met Yoongi’s black eyes again and this time didn’t divert the eye contact. He leant forward, until he was leaning on his knees, and even though there was an entire table between us, it still felt dangerously close.

“You have been quite uncharacteristically quiet, officer,” he said and drawled out the nickname with a deep voice. I was afraid of what else might come out of his mouth, so I quickly butted in.

“What do you mean? You don’t know me at all,” it was both a warning to shut up and warning that we’d just begun, and he really did not know what I was capable of. My eyes were throwing daggers at him, but I tried to keep on a fake polite smile.

“Well, for someone who waltzed in here calling it a funeral and dissing our clothes, I was expecting some more smart comments out of you,” Yoongi explained, and I was relieved he was entertaining my threat to keep our previous conversations secret. He was looking thoroughly amused though.

“You’d have to be saying something smart, for me to have smart remarks.”

Kim Taehyung laughed out of surprise and pointed at Yoongi, who was fighting back his own grin. “She got you, hyung, you’ve gotta admit that,” he teased him good-naturedly and it was almost surprisingly wholesome to see them interacting as friends.

“There’s rarely anything smart said when talking to cops,” Yoongi retorted and it was more of a dig towards Minjoon than me, who stiffened next to me. It must have been a sore subject coming from Yoongi, which I understood with how hard he was making everything for us. Unfortunately, as a cop you sometimes did feel like the criminals outsmarted you… and then hearing them tease you about it, I’d be mad too.

“Okay, okay, we can sit here and call each other dumb the whole evening,” I mediated the situation before it went sideways, “Tell me then, Yoongi, what smart things do you want to talk about?” I spit out his name as if it was a curse, but I saw his entire being perk up at hearing it, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. I ignored it and waited for him to answer.

“Oh, I’ve got many things to talk about, one more interesting than the other,” he said dangerously, and I quickly realised we were nearing a no-go zone again. I suddenly understood why he was so interested in this, in letting me so near and never reprimanding me, playing with me like a cat does when it’s hunting for mice. He was getting off on knowing there was something I desperately needed him to stay silent about. At that moment, he was holding something over my head, something that could get me in a lot of trouble with colleagues that already didn’t like me, and if he threatened to press charges for harassment and stalking, he could most likely even boot me out of the force. But to him, it wasn’t about destroying my life. It was about amusing himself knowing I’m depending on him for something so important when I’m hellbent on taking him down. That way, he still remained in control of all of our meetings.

But I didn’t think he had the intention to truly rat me out. It was too much fun for him, and he seemed the type to let things play out. Ultimately, he must have believed once I became bothersome, he could shoot me down no problem, so why not amuse himself while the opportunity was there? So, I took a gamble. He wanted a challenge, maybe I’d give it to him. Maybe that’s why he encouraged me to do better and chase after him more.

“Yeah?” I said and trained all my attention to him, just as he always did to everyone around him, “I’m all ears.” He looked me straight in the eyes and I fought myself not to flinch away. The longer we stared, the more prominent the amused smirk grew on his face. He tested me, how long it would take me to break the eye contact and back down, but I steeled myself, squeezing the armrests with my nervous shaking hands, keeping the fear at bay by attempting to look as fierce as possible while falling apart with panic on the inside. Finally, it was him who looked away, but it didn’t feel like he ceded. It felt like we both won.

I released a breath I didn’t realise I was holding in and slumped a little into my chair, the tension suddenly draining out of my body in one fell swoop, leaving me almost boneless. Only now I started noticing the tense awkward silence the whole space sunk into, the other three men watching us with very different expressions. Jungkook as stoic as ever but with a hint of something in his eyes, Taehyung hungrily taking in the exchange with open curiosity and a playful grin, watching me as if I successfully tackled some kind of a challenge, and finally Minjoon, his face both confused and alarmed. I really had to think of some good excuse on the way back home.

Yoongi’s phone was buzzing on the table, but he barely paid it any attention. Instead, he gulped down his whiskey and gestured for the bodyguard to get him more, before turning to Minjoon once again.

“I’m sorry, but you seem kind of boring compared to the balls on this lady,” he mocked him, “this is the most fun I’ve had dealing with you guys.”

“I’m not here to amuse you,” I growled through gritted teeth. He flashed me a smile and said: “Oh, of course not, I know that. You’re here on a super secret, super important mission. But I am having fun, which normally doesn’t happen with these guys.” Minjoon snickered next to me, and his next words somehow felt like a punch in the face.

“I should have known that a pig like you would get off more on having a female detective grill you,” he muttered, fully aiming to insult Yoongi, but I stiffened next to him. I couldn’t figure out why, but his remark really didn’t sit well with me, putting me out of my comfort zone way more than anything the three gangsters did the whole evening, and Kim Taehyung’s first words to me were shameless flirting.

“Only a pig like you would only see the fact that she’s a woman and not that she’s just more interesting than you,” Yoongi retorted almost instantly, spitting out the whole sentence in a single breath, leaving Minjoon speechless with the quick comeback. Then he rolled his eyes, trying to stay as calm as he was when he came in.

“That’s not what I said, stop trying to spin this on me,” he said, clearly annoyed with the turn of the conversation, “We’re talking about you here.” I stayed silent and for the first time that evening yearned for taking a swig out of the now melting cocktail still standing on the table in front of me.

“Right,” Yoongi drawled out, running out of patience dealing with the officer, “And I’m a pig why exactly? Last time I checked that’s what people called the police. Not me. And especially not after I’ve just-“

“Shut up, both of you,” I jumped in, annoyed and not interested in whatever Yoongi wanted to say, “You can measure each other’s cocks when I’m not around. Act like adults.” Taehyung off to the side giggled again, thoroughly enjoying himself watching this all go down. I chanced a glance at Jungkook, who was attempting to hide an amused smirk by looking out of the balcony. I didn’t want to look at either of the men I had just reprimanded, but my attention was drawn to Yoongi when he cleared his throat and said: “Of course, I let myself get carried away. Sorry ‘bout that.”

I had been afraid he’d take it badly, but he was laughing when I looked at him. Minjoon looked angry, but stayed silent, instead he petulantly looked to the right, away from all of us. I guess I’d be reaping the consequences of that later.

The awkward silence was broken by the man I was least expecting to speak up. “They’re with Namjoon hyung at the office,” Jungkook briskly informed Yoongi from behind us. When I turned around, he was just putting his phone to his ear walking out of the space.

“Well, I guess the cat’s out the bag now,” my attention turned back onto Yoongi, who still wasn’t checking his periodically buzzing phone. I also pulled out mine to check the time. 7:43 pm. We’d been there for a little longer than half an hour, but it felt barely like ten minutes to my shock.

I looked at Minjoon again, seeking his advice on how to tie up this situation. He finally shook out of his embarrassed silence and was more or less back to his previous self.

“Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Min,” Minjoon said, still a little strained and refusing to look at him for too long, “It was truly a fruitful evening.” Yoongi chuckled.

“Right, I feel like we all learnt a lot of things about each other,” he retorted mysteriously, giving me a grin and then turning to Taehyung, “It seems we both lost the bet. I said it would be The Rose and you betted on the hotel.” The Rose, another one of Yoongi’s clubs, was currently managed mainly by Park Jimin and situated on the other side of the city centre. It was another one of his high-profile entertainments, but most of the time it hosted the filthy rich and honed in on the feeling of privilege and prestige. That was definitely a club you couldn’t just get into from the street, no, you had to be invited in or taken by a member, that’s why the police were so interested in it.

“You were betting on us?” I asked surprised. Minjoon looked at me and grinned. “They do that quite often, actually. We do our best to try and keep them on their toes.”

I glanced at Yoongi, who as the entire time, was watching me closely. I hummed and pretended to think about it for a moment, and finally said: “Honestly, The Rose is a pretty good guess. Keep ‘em coming, I’m sure with an intuition like that, you’ll get it right once.” He laughed heartily and leaned in.

“I know it’s a good guess,” he whispered, “I get them right most of the time. I know you people, more than you think.” I shuddered and pulled away, hitting the back of the chair. With a slight flush of embarrassment at my earlier comment, I scrambled to get up and go on our merry way. That had made him even more amused, and I cursed both him and myself. I should really learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes.

Yoongi didn’t bother standing up as we were leaving, he didn’t even bother to check his phone, that had gone suspiciously silent. He just stared at me from across the room as the bouncer started leading the way back out and Taehyung waved at us with a little wink, looking annoyingly pleased and relaxed. I rolled my eyes at him one last time and then disappeared down the stairs. If I strained my ears, I could almost hear him laughing loudly at my antics.

Outside of the club, back by our car, Minjoon suddenly stopped in the middle of the empty quiet parking lot. I staggered to a stop as well, looking at him confused and slightly worried something happened. What if Park hadn’t managed to have that talk with Namjoon and was waiting for us mad at the station? Panic flashed through me, but I was surprised when Minjoon looked at me with worried sad eyes and started apologising.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about before,” he said and I could finally see the full extent of his embarrassment, “You’re right, we were bickering like a couple of little boys. It’s just- He always gets such a rise out of me. I try and not react, but he always does or says something that just pisses me off.” I softened a little at his genuine shame and a little awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I understand,” I replied quietly, “He got a rise out of me too. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at me, a little lighter and less sad, and I returned it. When we returned to the station, Park didn’t say anything about us or our mission and just launched right into his spiel about Namjoon’s behaviour at the office. I considered that a win.

Later that night, sitting in the empty meeting room, Minjoon turned to me and said: “I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier, but you fared surprisingly well tonight. I wasn’t expecting you to be like… that. It was amazing.” I blushed both from his words and his gentle embarrassed gaze and played with the edge of my sleeve to escape his eyes.

“Thank you… When I get nervous, I just start blabbing out the first thing that comes to mind,” I replied with a half-truth half-lie. He didn’t need to know I’d been getting some practice with dealing with the infuriating man in my free time. That would stay between me, Yoongi and the devil.

The next time I saw Yoongi was actually a few weeks later – in January of the new year. As I promised to myself, I took the time to scope out that one warehouse where I caught a glimpse of Hoseok. I had been staking it out carefully for almost a week, losing my mind with boredom just watching harbour workers milling about, when I came to the conclusion that he actually wasn’t there. The one time I’d seen him there clearly must have been a fluke, because he didn’t come at all the entire week. It was a pretty easy to scope out location, and when I continuously didn’t notice any evidence of Hoseok’s presence, I had to face the reality that this just wasn’t one of his spots.

So, that sent me back to following Yoongi around. And I had to figure out how to outsmart the literal king of snakes.

One day, when I was walking through the station, it hit me in a form of a single simple leaflet pinned to a noticeboard. I stopped so fast I almost tripped over my own feet and then hobbled back to the board to take in the huge bold FREE MOTORCYCLE TRAINING FOR OFFICERS FROM THIS PRECINCT. I had to stop myself from laughing maniacally right in the middle of the station and immediately saved the contact information into my phone. It was time to learn some new skills.

While I started taking lessons to be able to get a license for a motorcycle, I had to hold off from tailing Yoongi. Rolling up to his house in a car he already knew would be just embarrassing to me and explaining to someone else why I needed to borrow their car to drive around Seoul for 24 hours straight would be too difficult and, not to mention, extremely weird. There aren’t enough excuses in this world to borrow a different car every night and I didn’t even know enough people to achieve that.

Sometimes I would snoop around his office building or clubs when I knew he either was there or wasn’t, depending on what I was trying to achieve. I also still periodically dropped to the warehouse, just to chance whether maybe Hoseok showed up that time. But no luck. It was like he got swallowed by the earth itself. It did make sense for Yoongi to keep him in the shadows, considering what we suspected he did in the organisation, but I didn’t expect for him to be this hard to spot.

Here and there I would go through the other buildings Yoongi owned and tried to figure out where he could be spending most of his time, but there were just too many. Thus, one night I ended up buying a huge and very detailed map of Seoul that took up almost all of my bedroom wall and got to work on that. First, I marked all of Yoongi’s properties including his house in red, then I added properties that were known to be in possession of his six each with their own colours, and then marked with different colours who I spotted where. Finally, I added post it notes with details of when I spotted them or when Yoongi went there.

As I stood in my bedroom, proud of my hard work, a realisation of what I was doing hit me. There was no going back now, and whoever entered my house and found his way into my bedroom would be positively creeped out. I myself had to admit that sleeping next to a huge map detailing the whereabouts of a certain individual that I acquired through illegal means wasn’t ideal, but I had to do what I had to do to help catch him.

And like that, Christmas came and went and suddenly New Year was here, and I found myself sitting in the meeting room, first thing in January, going over new findings and strategies. I was barely holding my attention to what was said, itching to supervise Yoongi again and trying to come up with ways to check on what he’s doing.

“We’ve made contact with a new informant,” Park said suddenly, “He’s willing to pass info to us, he’s fairly confident that he can dodge the safety checks since he’s seen people fail them quite often. He knows very well the consequences he faces if he gets caught and agreed to help anyway.”

“Which faction does he belong to?” one of the officers present asked him. Faction, that meant under which member of the six he worked. Since they all had such different areas of coverage, a lot of the time the personnel under them was directly employed to them and not necessarily to Yoongi himself, though he owned the umbrella corporation. These groups of employees directly belonging to a certain member of the gang we called factions or squads.

“He works around the clubs and the hotel, so he’s Taehyung’s, but he mostly gets into contact with Jungkook,” Park answered readily, “But, and that’s most important, he gets his fare share of time with Namjoon. He runs a lot of errands for him and Taehyung when they’re together. Which is often.”

Suddenly Minjoon leaned closer to me and whispered: “Namjoon spends most of his time at the office building, but he does go to the clubs and checks on their offices and bookkeeping periodically. Taehyung’s and Jimin’s responsibility is making sure that everything is ready there for him.” I nodded at him and gave him a grateful smile. I thought back to the five days I spent sitting mostly in front of the office space and I did see him a lot. He seemed to be an avid smoker and spent a lot of time standing by the side of the building smoking and shouting something into his phone. Maybe he was like Yoongi and went to the clubs in the morning and then spent the afternoons there.

I leaned to him and whispered back: “It’s almost unfair how much information we have on them and still can’t legally even give them a parking ticket.” Minjoon smiled sympathetically and patted my shoulder.

The meeting droned on and as I sat there, I decided that parking tickets actually didn’t sound half bad. Next time I went out after him, I should take some just in case. I vowed myself to be the most annoying menace he’s ever come across and I fully intended to hold up to that.

About a week later I was once again sitting at my table punching some useless information into the national police database, trying to stay awake as I’d been spending the nights crawling around the industrial parts of Seoul checking out warehouses and the surveillance around them, when Park, as was his habit, stormed into the room letting his door bang loudly into the wall. I’d stopped flinching at this point, no one in the room was even fazed, all of us have heard it so many times it wasn’t even surprising anymore.

As usual when something happened with Yoongi, he went straight to Minjoon and Hwang, his partner, gesturing for them to grab their things and follow him out. I tried to catch Minjoon’s eye, hoping he’d take me with them again, but he just shook his head at me gently. When both of the other men left, he made a stop at my table and in a hushed voice explained: “I’m sorry, not today. Something happened at a warehouse that’s on Yoongi’s turf, probably some kind of fight with a rival gang or something. The police officers from the area are already there, but they’re waiting on us to see. It’s a pretty ugly and bloody scene.” With that he ran out of the door, barely managing to wave goodbye as he rushed to the scene.

I looked at his retreating back in disappointment, not understanding his reasoning behind leaving me out of it. What was he worried about? That I’d be upset if I saw a little blood? That I shouldn’t witness violence? Determination rose in me as I got angry at the perceived discrimination. I checked the clock. 4 PM, Wednesday. I scrambled out of my chair and quickly grabbed my badge and jacket and ran out as well.

As I gripped my steering wheel like an insane person and drove through the centre, I was hoping that his schedule was as solid as I assumed, even though I didn’t follow him for long. In a few minutes, I was parking in front of his office building and charging my way inside like a storm. There was a lady sitting at the reception and when she first saw me walk in, she attempted to talk to me, but quickly gave up and lost interest when I just brushed past her.

I’d never been inside but I hoped that all the movies and series didn’t lie, and his office would be on the top floor, so I flagged down an elevator and pushed the highest button. Now finally standing here, I started getting nervous. I once again acted before I thought about it and standing in an elevator taking me to Yoongi’s office, I didn’t even know what I’d say to him. If he even was here. I had nothing to talk to him about except for inquiring about the disturbance at a warehouse, but I doubt he’d ever tell me anything about it, not that I even had any closer information to ask about. This was reckless and stupid.

The elevator slowly rolled to a stop and the door opened. I self-consciously walked out and took a look around. It was a nicely furnished hallway lined with dark wood and deep scarlet details. At the end a huge vase with white lilies stood, right next to an abandoned desk of who I assumed must be Yoongi’s secretary. To my left, straight in the middle, was a black double door, no doubt leading to the man of the hour.

I loitered outside for a while, gathering courage and thinking about how I should explain my sudden appearance. Right as I moved to the door, it opened and a black-clad figure backed out, both of us colliding between the open doors. With surprisingly quick reflexes he turned around and grabbed onto my elbow, stabilising me before I embarrassed myself in front of Yoongi again.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” a cheerful high voice rung out through the corridor, “I gotta watch the road more.” He ended it with a melodic laugh and his other hand grabbed onto my shoulder, finally shaking me out of my stupor. I looked up to thank him, the cheerful personality putting me at ease a little more, but as soon as I laid eyes on him, the words died in my throat on an embarrassing half choked sound. I froze up and just stared at him for a moment, until I could see confusion paint his face.

It was Jung Hoseok. Hoseok was standing in front of me. Laughing and joking around, hands still holding me upright.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, suddenly a little more serious, watching me with concern.

“She’s fine,” a voice from the inside supplied, “Maybe she’s just stunned with your beauty, with finally meeting you in person after staring at your picture for months.” All confusion and concern disappeared from the man and he started laughing again.

“Oh, so you’re the police officer,” he announced with a smirk and something a little more teasing crept into his voice. He finally released his hold on me and watched me with amused eyes as I stumbled away from him with red burning cheeks. So much for not embarrassing myself. It didn’t help that he most definitely was beautiful, almost unfairly so for someone who was allegedly a stone-cold killer. Damn these men to hell, what was it about being a mobster that attracted the good-looking guys.

“Thank you for catching me,” I gritted through my teeth, already staring daggers into Yoongi, who was leisurely sitting behind a huge dark desk in the room behind us, watching us with a lazy smirk.

“Don’t mention it,” Hoseok replied almost instantly and winked, “Well, I gotta get on my merry way. Have fun you two! Bye bye~” He waved at me cheerily and walked out. Then he backed into the room again and pointed at Yoongi in a teasingly reprimanding manner and added: “Not too much fun though.” With that, he was gone.

I walked into the room, completely flabbergasted by his surprising character. Yoongi watched me like a wolf, waiting for me to sit down on a chair on the other side of his table, as was our tradition by now. I could see the anticipation rolling off of him in waves, so I took the time to properly soak in the room. There was a lot of dark wood and grey tones with splash of colour here and there, but the darkness was offset by a huge three-piece window in the wall behind Yoongi. Right now, I could see the beginnings of what would soon turn into a sunset.

I knew I couldn’t win in a battle of will against him, so once I dragged it out enough, finally I moved over to the table to take a seat. Immediately, Yoongi had a cordial smile on his face, as if he was greeting an old friend and not a police officer. Speaking of that, I remembered something – I took the time to bring it for the sake of our second meeting.

Yoongi wordlessly watched me rummage in my pockets until I finally found what I was looking for. A second later, my hand slapped my badge on the table between us. I nodded towards it and muttered: “That official enough for you?” He looked at it shocked for a split second and then he was laughing.

When calm enough to speak to me, he said: “I see that whatever I joke about with you, you’ll take it to your heart. I’ll have to think about my words a bit more carefully from now on.” He stared at the badge for a moment and then thoughtfully hummed.

“Now, that reminds me, I should probably check whether you’re recording this talk,” he joked with me, “I won’t stop you of course, just watch my mouth.” Annoyed, I reached into my other pocket and this time I slapped my phone on the table. I went the extra mile of showing him it wasn’t calling anyone or recording anything, and then glared at him in challenge, all under his amused gaze.

“So, can we talk?” I bluffed, pretending like I showed up here for something specific. He made himself comfortable in his chair across from me and motioned for me to start. I took a moment to think about how to start. With no idea what I wanted to achieve here, it was hard to just start up a conversation. But it seemed I was worrying for nothing.

“Actually, I don’t need you to start,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I know why you’re here. With your colleagues currently running around in the docks, it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. But it’s not their usual MO, they’ve never sent here someone while they were investigating.” I stuttered under his piercing eyes, and he smirked. “So… not that official, is it.”

“It still is, though, I’m here during work hours regarding an on-going police investigation,” I defended myself somewhat petulantly, following his figure with my eyes when he suddenly got up and moved to a small bar in the corner behind me. With his back to me, mixing up cocktails, I realised I’ve never seen him from this angle, always had to face him head on and fight for everything I was and everything I did. This felt as if we were supposed to be relaxed in each other’s company and I didn’t like it.

He hummed again and turned around, whiskey in one hand and pink gin and tonic in other. He motioned for me to move and sit at a small green sofa in the other corner of the room, and I mindlessly listened to him. To my surprise, he situated me on the sofa and pushed the gin into my hand, while he himself made himself comfortable on the fluffy carpet, leaning on the table. The sofa wasn’t super high, but I still found myself looking at him from above for the first time ever. It was putting me off – he had to be planning something. Why else would he behave this way?

I put the glass on the table and gave him a reprimanding glare. “I told you, I’m on duty and I drove here.” He scoffed and sipped on his own drink, ignoring my words.

“And the things you’ll learn here, you’ll share them with your colleagues? You’ll go back to the station and divulge your findings?” he asked seemingly innocently, but there was a dark glint in his eyes. It was the most serious I’ve ever seen him. I didn’t know whether I should lie to him or not. I knew I wouldn’t share it, at least not until a little later, when there was an opportunity for me to showcase my knowledge in the most impactful way. And it seemed that he was aware of that as well. And the longer I took to answer him, the more obvious the answer was. So I chose to be honest.

“When the time comes for it, yes,” I said, and the words felt like ash on my tongue. I could barely look at him in that moment. I was doing something wrong, I was aware of that, I was putting my career on the line and bartering the information for my own gain and putting it out into the universe somehow felt like a curse. But Yoongi didn’t seem to care. He nodded and took a sip again, humming. I regarded him with suspicion.

“Is that why you came here to find out the information your own colleagues wouldn’t tell you?”

His question hung heavy in the air, and I froze completely. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t even disprove it, even though I didn’t think that’s why I came there. They really didn’t tell me anything. I would find out eventually when it was important for me to know. Or if I was lucky, I’d pull it out of Minjoon when he’d come in tomorrow. But I was angry and frustrated. I spent a lot of time studying Yoongi’s warehouses trying to find Hoseok, and he didn’t even give me a chance to tell him and ran. Didn’t even tell me a reason why exactly I wasn’t supposed to be there. So, I went and did something foolish.

But I still had to play my cards right.

For some reason, Yoongi seemed to be suspiciously eager to let me in on some of his dealings, from speaking to me openly that one time in Dynamite, to letting me tail him and even entertaining my clumsy attempts at distracting him or getting information out of him. Whether it was because he didn’t see me as a threat or because he was trying to play a game of his own with me, I had to use this to my advantage. As long as he was this willing, I had to try and milk this situation.

“Just trying to get all the points of view,” I answered cooly and tried to put up a strong front. I hoped that Yoongi had enough decency not to point out my obvious frustration and would take my words at face value. Which, thankfully, he seemed to do. He flashed me a smile and said: “Ah, I see. Just being a good cop.”

He looked at me for a moment and then suddenly got up. I was about to also get up, but he gestured for me to stay seated. He walked over to the table and leaned on it with his hip.

“I can’t tell you much more than what you’ll eventually find out about it,” he said, and it felt both like a ceding and a challenge, “But whatever happened there, we had nothing to do with it. A petty criminal allegedly affiliated with a group attacked another petty criminal allegedly affiliated with another group and it didn’t go as well as he hoped.” I wished I knew more about the situation to ask additional questions, but I knew this would be all I’d be getting out of him either way.

“Well, that’s not much,” I couldn’t help the dig and he scoffed. “Don’t complain when I’m being this gracious,” he retorted jokingly and pointed a finger at me much in the same manner as Hoseok did to him earlier.

I was about to retort too, when the door flew open. For a moment I almost thought it’s Park and my heart jumped into my throat, but the panic disappeared as quickly when I recognised the man as none other than Kim Taehyung. He waltzed in straight to me, paying Yoongi no mind and sitting down on the sofa next to me.

When I moved to stand up, he quickly caught my hand and gave it a swift kiss. “We haven’t been formally introduced yet,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth, “My name is Taehyung, but feel free to call me Tae.” I raised my eyebrow at him as he gave me a million-watt smile and slowly settled back into the couch.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kim,” I replied, deadpan, and pulled my hand free. Somewhere in the room Yoongi laughed, but before I could turn to look at him, Taehyung spoke to me again.

“How mean,” he fake pouted and slumped into the sofa, only to spring up again immediately, hands going for the pink gin and tonic, “Is this free?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” I replied, stunned. I could have stayed silent though, as the glass was already halfway to his lips and there was no stopping him. He gulped down half the glass in one go and then offered me to take a swig too. I was so surprised by his erratic behaviour that I subconsciously grabbed the drink thrust into my personal space and froze.

“Come on, just one little sip,” he goaded me, seemingly all in good spirits, but I knew listening to whatever gibberish he had to offer me was a one-way ticket to hell. I pushed the glass back into his hands and said: “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it much more than me.”

Taehyung suddenly leaned into my personal space and seductively whispered: “If that was right, then I would be doing it wrong.” With his suggestive words hanging between us, obviously no longer talking about alcohol, I blushed so aggressively I might have combusted on the spot and pushed him away until he was squished into the other corner of the sofa.

Alarmed at his words I instinctively searched for Yoongi, holding out hope that he would sort out his friend and school him on how to act in front of a detective and a woman, but I found him half sitting on the armrest of the chair I previously sat on, attentively watching us with a light amused smirk.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered cocky, “He still hasn’t been house trained.” There was a whiny “hyuuuung” coming from somewhere behind me, but I was done with this conversation. I had just had enough of interacting with these lunatics, so I got up and started getting ready to leave.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Taehyung teased, “I’m just joking around, I always try this on new people to see how they react.” I huffed, slightly angry but more humiliated. “You mean new women.”

“Actually, he doesn’t care about that at all,” Yoongi answered for him, “You should have seen him when he first met your boss and the other cop, Jang. He almost got arrested for public indecency cause he made them so angry.” I turned to look at Taehyung to gauge the truth to this statement, only to find him properly embarrassed and almost as red as me. The image of Taehyung shamelessly flirting with a seething mad Park while Minjoon watched completely horrified entered my mind. I snickered at him and relaxed again.

“I should have known that cops have no sense of humour,” he muttered for himself, but then quickly shot me a wink and added: “No offense.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied, “That’s the least offensive thing you’ve said to me today.” Taehyung only smiled at me sweetly, as if he was the picture of sainthood and not whispering naughty words to people he barely knew on the regular.

I went to check the time and with a start realised I’d left my phone and badge just laying on the table when I earlier moved to the sofa. After quickly grabbing them, I walked over to the door and turned around. Both men in the room were looking at me curiously. I gave them my own wolfish grin and said: “Thank you for your cooperation.” With that I was gone.

So, that wasn’t the most fruitful thing I’ve ever done. I found myself even more confused about the strange behaviour of a man with such a reputation as Min Yoongi. For a moment teasing, for a moment dangerous, for a moment honest and genuine? I had no idea what he was doing, what he was trying to do and why was he letting me get away with so much, but everything about him and every one of our encounters was extremely suspicious.

Well. Even though it disappointed me a little, I knew that it was most likely because he kept underestimating me. So, I had to change that.

A week later I’d finally gotten a license for a bike. I was spending so much time there that I even became somewhat of a running joke between the lectors, but I couldn’t explain to them I was in a time press because I had a gang to dismantle and a mafia boss to humble. That would have made things real awkward real fast.

But now, with a license and slightly used black bike, I was virtually unstoppable. At least in my mind. From there I slowly got back into my routine of tailing Yoongi. During the month and a half I was out, I had been spending a lot of time staring at a map of Seoul and embarrassingly enough, I’d started to remember the streets to a point I could have become a cabbie. Maybe one day when I’ve inevitably lost my badge because Yoongi snitched on my unprofessional misconduct, I’d give it a shot.

I was absolutely sure to him I was just some cute little animal that sometimes barked and growled a little but would never do much worse than piss on the floor, but the moment I’d actually bite a nerve, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of me. I had to work quickly, before I became too much of an eyesore to him.

Speaking of which, Yoongi didn’t stray from his routine too much. In the mornings he would alternate between visiting the clubs, restaurants and his hotel, then he would either stay at the hotel’s office or move to his office building. In the afternoons he sometimes went to certain warehouses, but from what I could gather, it was mostly Hoseok, Jungkook and surprisingly Namjoon, who came to him with information about these places. The weekends he’d spent in his office until the clubs opened and then went either to Pied Piper or The Rose, both in which I wasn’t able to enter again.

Sometimes I would let Yoongi sit in the office and move to the warehouses. I alternated between them, checking on them to see who was where, and saw Jungkook and Namjoon very often. Hoseok stayed ever so elusive he might as well have been a ghost, but I was absolutely sure he must have been actively communicating with Yoongi.

I even tried to tail Jungkook, but the man was impossible to track down. No matter what I did, I’d always lose him after a few minutes, and I never managed to stay on him for longer than a few streets. I’d become so good at taking all kinds of back streets and alleys to keep out of sight that his ability to just disappear was truly mind-boggling to me.

While when I tailed Namjoon, I quickly realised that he moved in a very constricted area between the offices, some of the clubs and some of the warehouses. He never lingered for long when he was out but was capable of sitting for hours upon hours in the office building, so that ultimately also went nowhere.

The map in my room was quickly becoming crowded with differently coloured strings and post-it notes, in the evening (or sometimes early morning) I’d come home and add another new little thing and I was feeling like an obsessed stalker a little more every day. From Yoongi’s point of view, I most likely was. But it had to be done.

It had to be done.

It was one regular Tuesday when I chanced upon gold. I was sitting on my bike, bored out my mind, stuffing my face with fast food watching Yoongi laugh about something with Jimin and Taehyung outside of one of his clubs, when a black car with tinted windows pulled up. It was a car I sometimes saw with Jungkook, so I more or less knew to expect the young man, but when Hoseok in all of his glory jumped out and walked over to hug the two youngsters, I was so surprised I almost choked on a hot dog and fell off my bike.

Jungkook came out of the car right after him and immediately started looking around, so I ducked and started pulling my bike a little more behind a corner. The five men conversed for a moment and then Hoseok waved and started walking towards a different car. I watched him full of anticipation, my fingers flexing on their own, eager to try my best at tailing Jungkook if it meant I’d get to find out where Hoseok worked. But to my absolute elation, Jungkook wasn’t following. Hoseok was leaving alone. Fucking jackpot.

I was so happy I almost passed out. I didn’t know what sort of luck this was, but I wasn’t about to complain.

Hoseok walked over to a sleek silver sports car and sat in the driver’s seat. I was getting ready as if I was about to run the marathon, my sweaty hands nervously fidgeting with the handles of my bike, body taunt as a bow. He stayed still for a moment, a moment that felt like hours to me, but then I heard the faint sound of a running engine. He waved to the others again, and then he was off. I pressed myself into the building as he was passing me and then quickly followed.

I’d never been that nervous about tailing someone, not even when I first went after Yoongi almost two months ago at the beginning of December. This was most likely my only shot for a long time, there was no telling when I’d be able to spot him again.

He drove to one of the many docks that were under Yoongi’s control. In this particular area, they owned a whole three warehouses that looked over some of their ships and imported goods. I was here a lot when I was trying to find Hoseok on my own, I figured this was such a hotspot, if he went somewhere, it would probably be here, but I never caught sight of him. Now I was proven right but felt annoyed that I missed him so many times.

The reason for that turned out to be quite simple. The biggest warehouse, situated closest to the water, had another door that I haven’t noticed. It was in the back and blended into the wall so well I almost thought for a second Hoseok’s just loitering in the back banging on the walls. When a patch in the wall suddenly opened and he disappeared inside, it was like unlocking a whole new world in my mind. No wonder I’d never seen him, the whole time he was coming in from the other side.

I admit, it was a bit reckless to pour my attention here after a single sighting, but I was willing to risk it. I took the time to scope out the area while Hoseok was inside (if he was anything like the others, he’d be spending hours there anyway).

A little ways to the left was a small building, but right behind it I saw an abandoned half constructed concrete monstrosity, most likely a leftover of attempts to redevelop this part of the capital city that crashed and burned on the involvement of gangs in the area. I made my way to it.

It was fenced off, but a little probing here and there, I was able to break into one of the fence gates. Inside I apologised to whoever owned this building, but it was very obviously uncared for, so I justified myself in that way. I probably wasn’t even the first person that broke in, I told myself as I made my way up the stairs. I swallowed the sour sensation that left me with and trudged on.

Within an hour I found a perfect spot to stake out. It was high and secluded enough to see the warehouse and its surroundings without a problem if I used a telescope, while I wouldn’t be risking being seen by the people on the street. It faced the second exit, which must have been used by Hoseok enough to escape my notice the first time around. In two days, I’d return here and watch.

It almost felt like things were looking up, like I could finally stop mindlessly following Yoongi around and move forward with this case, and for the first time after a long time I felt some sort of joy and relief.

I reached into my pocket to take out my phone and take a photo of the number on a nearby column, so I’d be able to find it easily again, but found it missing. For a hot moment of panic I thought maybe I had dropped it somewhere around Yoongi’s club, which would mean he now no doubt had it and I’d have to go get it from him, and it would be extremely embarrassing. But then I realised I must have left it at my table at the station that morning when I stopped by to hand deliver some documents to Park. I looked around to find something that would immediately catch my eye upon entering, but in the end I decided to just luck it out and left.

On my way home I’d stopped by the station for the phone and ended up having a coffee with Minjoon. For a brief moment, when I sat in a cafeteria, drank that shitty coffee and laughed at some story Minjoon was telling me about his first few months in the force, I found myself thinking I wish all my days were this nice.

I should have known it wouldn’t last, though.

Due to the fact that it was still January, I was absolutely freezing my balls off on stake out the next few days. Sitting in an open room in minus temperatures staring into a telescope the whole day turned out to be a pretty bad way to spend one’s time and quickly I was turning very cranky. I was hungry, cold, thirsty and even though Hoseok turned up and took the back entry, he just sat there for the whole day and didn’t come out until evening. I was mostly just watching some of the low-tier mobsters mulling about, moving about crates, caring for the ships and continuously walking in and out of the warehouse. Which was something I had already seen when I was staking out here before.

It seemed that the reason Hoseok was so hard to find was because he spent literal days holed up in that metal building, doing god knows what.

On my fourth day I was absolutely losing it. I spent the morning at the station and then went straight here. Hoseok’s car was already present, but other than that there was no other trace of his existence, just like the other days. He didn’t even come outside to smoke like Namjoon would. Not one of the other boys came here either, which was weird since they always seemed to be in close vicinity of each other. I was tired and frozen and I could feel the beginnings of a nasty cold and I was getting nowhere.

My day got exponentially more interesting though, when Yoongi’s black car rolled up to the back exit. It was the first time in the four days he came here, and the first time since I’d started tailing him that he came to this exit. That should have been my first warning.

I watched as Yoongi walked around free of all troubles, wide smile on, and if I wasn’t currently more than 100 metres away from him, I’d punch him in the face. The door opened and Hoseok stepped out to greet him. I could cry with happiness at the first appearance of the man in days. And also punch him in the face. Together they disappeared inside, and I was left with the same sorry view as before.

Impatiently watching the clock, I saw the minutes drift away into two hours of silence and no movement in the back. Just when I thought about just slipping into a coma to escape this hellhole, I heard movement outside my little spot. Instantly alerted, I quickly stood up and pressed myself closer to a wall where I wouldn’t be immediately noticeable from the entrance into the room. My whole body was stiff from coldness and hours of just sitting, my muscles protesting and painfully pulling until I was barely able to hobble away.

The steps got closer and closer until a figure clad in all black stepped in. For a moment I thought it was Jungkook and was a second away from wailing in frustration, but it wasn’t him. It was a young man, based on his clothes he must have been part of Yoongi’s security, but I didn’t remember his face from before.

He located me in a second – after all, there weren’t many places I could be hiding in a completely bare concrete room. Without a word he thrust his hand to me. My eyes slid down to see a take-out coffee. When I wasn’t taking it, he impatiently moved his hand, trying to get me to relieve him of this definitely extremely bothersome task.

I did take it, mostly because I didn’t want to annoy him more when Yoongi was already doing such a good job of it and sighed in defeat. How the fuck did he even sniff me out here? The guy looked at me and then said: “Boss wanted me to tell you that he truly thinks it’s admirable how hard you work in such cold weather.” His face was completely unreadable, but I knew he must have thought this was such a laughable situation.

I wanted to feel angry, I really did, but I didn’t even have the strength to do it. Instead I sighed and pinched the root of my nose between my fingers. Frustration coursed through me and now I was annoyed with Yoongi too. Did he become omnipotent or what?

I returned the poor guy’s gaze and said: “Please send a message back. Tell him that he’s annoying and I hate him.” He nodded and left, no expression on his face. A true professional.

From then on, whenever I got closer to them, Yoongi would send me a subtle message that he knew about me. Either he would send me food or drinks or just stand in my line of sight and wave in my direction. Sometimes when I knew he could see me too I returned the gesture by flipping him off, to which he always laughed. Taehyung also caught on and to any birds sent their way he sent back a kiss and a wink.

It took me embarrassingly long to figure out that they planted a tracker on me. One night in a mad fit to find it I turned upside down most of my apartment. At 3 am I was standing on the street, pawing at my bike like a crazy person, attempting to stuff my fingers to all the nooks and crannies. A passing woman looked at me as if I was sexually harassing my own vehicle and after that I rather returned back home, not interested in getting the cops called on me.

Every time I went to stake out, I would leave home an item, just to try and narrow down where it could possibly hide. I decided to trust that my bike was tracker free and I bought myself a set of completely new clothes even though I thoroughly checked the old ones. I would wear different shoes, even if I knew there was no way they got to them. One day I even chanced moving about without my wallet. They still found me. And that’s how I realised what the only thing that I had on me all the time, no matter what was. My phone.

I thought back to the day I stormed into Yoongi’s office, distraught and upset, how he acted strangely nice and comfortable. Taehyung’s strange behaviour and my phone. Lying on a table, away from me, but close to Yoongi wandering around. He was messing about that table even when I stayed sitting on that damned couch.

All I could do was laugh at his craftiness. At how easily I fell into a trap of his softer demeanour because I was surprised he sat on the floor and talked seriously, how I let Taehyung completely consume my focus by flirting and teasing me. I had to applaud them, really. It was brilliant and I walked right into it. I was so stupid, I let him fool me even though I was suspicious of him the entire time.

At first I feared he was tracking me through the phone itself, but when I inspected it closer, I noticed a little bump under the case. When I took it off the phone, there it was. A tiny little tracker attached to the plastic.

I wondered what Yoongi was trying to accomplish. He put a tracker on me, but then also made it obvious that he knew more about my whereabouts than he was supposed to. He was quite literally giving it away. Therefore, knowing about the tracker didn’t necessarily put me at an advantage since I had no idea what his goal was. I decided to keep it there until I made up my mind about what to do.

But I was petty. Really petty. And as impressed as I was with my ability to fall for Yoongi’s cheap tactics, I was also peeved. That’s how one day I found myself at our station, loitering around an office where the IT guys had their stuff. When one of them rounded the corner, I immediately took my chance. It took a lot of persuading and lying. A lot of “I’m from this department” and “I was tasked with getting one for the next mission” and such, but twenty minutes later, I was leaving the room with a tracker of my own. Was it technically illegal? Yes. Would Yoongi find the tracker within the first 24 hours and then triumphantly return it to me while telling me to try better next time and I would return it right after before anyone noticed I ever had it in the first place? Also yes. No harm done, just a little revenge.

After that, every day for a week I went straight to Yoongi’s office. Whether I was on duty or not, every afternoon I was sitting on his stupid little sofa, grinning at him mischievously and sipping on tea that he started offering me instead of stiff drinks. I would find anything to talk about, I joked and played and asked stupid questions I knew he’d never answer.

And I could see it on him, he was trying to figure out where this was going. He would look at me, intrigued and confused, his head just whirring with ideas of what my new plan could be, and I was enjoying it so much. Sometimes he’d just stare at me in that way he did to people, and I’d stare right back at him and I was able to laugh. For the first time it felt like we both were trying to catch the other off guard, and not as if I was just mindlessly walking straight into his traps. For a few brief moments, the scales were balanced, and I liked that I was able to keep him in suspense. But I also had to move on from this.

At first his eyes would follow my every move, sharply watching me interact with things he had in his office, but once he'd become used to my presence, become used to how I hovered over things and examined the décor and played with the little trinkets he had on display, I was sometimes able to slip his attention. And then, on the seventh day, when he left the room for a split second to call for Jungkook down the hall, I slipped the tracker into a little tear I had noticed on his jacket, along with a little surprise for him, when he found it (which would be soon).

I walked out of there without saying much, wearing a mysterious smile on my lips when both men turned to watch me leave. Once outside, I took the tracker off my phone and slipped it into the bag of a random guy passing me by on the street. Let’s see how long before they figure that one out.

The game was on.

Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: thank you so much for reading this! i hope you enjoyed yourself, feel free to interact, i will be grateful for comments or asks of all sorts :)

Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics <3

Taglist (open) : @wobblewobble822

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 2 months ago

Text

A New Beginning | Sebastian Sallow x OC #48

Summary: Ominis, Sebastian, and Evangeline receive the N.E.W.T. results, and having been working through Ministry orientation, Evie also receives a surprising offer from the Ministry about working abroad. They subsequently spend the day moving into their new apartments.

Words: ~7,800

Tags: Coming of Age, Fluff, Not-Quite-Dating, Will They Won't They, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Longing, Unspoken Feelings, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Drama

Timeline: Early July

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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The morning owl swooped through the window of Sebastian and Ominis’s nearly empty flat, its wings rustling as it dropped a pair of parchment envelopes onto the small coffee table. Evangeline sat curled on the sofa, watching the envelopes land with a soft thwop.

From the kitchen, the faint clinking of porcelain signaled Anne pouring herself a cup of tea. “Be right there!” Anne called cheerfully over the soft hiss of the kettle. The smell of chamomile wafted into the room, comforting and grounding.

Evangeline set her mug aside, her eyes fixed on the letters. One bore the familiar Hogwarts seal, the other the crisp insignia of the Ministry of Magic. Her fingers hovered over them, her heart pounding. She knew she should wait for Anne, but the Ministry letter called to her, its formality a silent demand. Before she could second-guess herself, she snatched it up and broke the seal.

Her hands trembled slightly as she unfolded the parchment.

Miss Sterling,

I hope this correspondence finds you well. It is with great anticipation that we await your finalized N.E.W.T. results, which will secure your acceptance into the Cursebreaker division of the Department of Magical Artifacts. Your performance during your probationary tasks and artifact recovery training has been exemplary, and it is clear that your talents will be an invaluable asset to the Ministry.

In light of your demonstrated aptitude, we are pleased to extend a unique opportunity to you. Upon your employment, we invite you to join a groundbreaking research expedition set to depart for New Zealand this October. This project is of critical importance to the department, centered on the excavation and study of a repository believed to contain artifacts and magical inscriptions dating back to an era predating Merlin himself.

Should you accept this assignment, further details, including travel arrangements, safety protocols, and expedition logistics, will follow in subsequent correspondence. We understand this may be a significant decision, and I encourage you to consider how such an opportunity aligns with your goals and aspirations within the field of artifact recovery and magical research.

Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have questions or wish to discuss this opportunity further. We eagerly look forward to welcoming you to the department and hope to work alongside you on this monumental project.

Kind regards, Godfrey Trenholm Senior Cursebreaker & Expedition Coordinator Department of Magical Artifacts Ministry of Magic

Evangeline's heart pounded in her chest as her eyes skimmed the letter again, the elegant handwriting blurring slightly as the reality of the offer began to sink in.

New Zealand.

The pull of adventure was undeniable—this was exactly the kind of opportunity she’d dreamed of when she first considered becoming a Cursebreaker. The thought of standing at the forefront of discovery, working alongside experts, uncovering ancient magic that could reshape their understanding of enchanted history—it was thrilling. And yet, it terrified her in equal measure.

She glanced toward the kitchen, hearing Anne humming softly as she finished preparing their tea. How could she tell her, or Sebastian and Ominis for that matter? They’d all celebrated her opportunity to work the Ministry precisely because it meant she’d stay close to London, close to them. She’d imagined herself commuting to the office, sharing evenings in the flat, perhaps taking weekend trips with them to Hogsmeade or Felcroft. That life had felt safe, grounded—like she’d finally found a place to belong.

But New Zealand? That was worlds away from London and everything she’d worked to build here.

The soft clink of Anne setting the kettle down on the counter pulled Evangeline from her spiraling thoughts. Quickly, she folded the letter, slipping it back into its envelope and setting it aside just as Anne entered the room with her mug.

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense, Evie,” Anne said brightly before plopping down on the other end of the sofa. Her gaze fell immediately to the envelopes. “What did the Ministry say?”

Evangeline hesitated, her fingers curling around the warm mug in her hands. “Just more administrative stuff,” she said casually, gesturing toward the folded envelope on the table. “Nothing too exciting.”

Anne gave her a skeptical look but didn’t press. Instead, she reached for the Hogwarts letter, holding it up like a trophy. “What about this one? Come on, open it! We need to know if we’re celebrating.”

Grateful for the distraction, Evangeline reached for the Hogwarts letter, her fingers trembling slightly as she broke the wax seal. Unfolding the parchment, her hazel eyes scanned the neat rows of grades, her chest tightening with every line she read. Relief crashed over her like a wave, overwhelming and soothing all at once.

“I passed,” she breathed, her voice trembling with disbelief. A wide smile broke across her face. “I actually passed.”

Anne clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with pride. “Of course you did! Let me see.” She leaned over, scanning the grades with eager curiosity. “Defense Against the Dark Arts—Outstanding. Ancient Runes and Potions—Exceeds Expectations. Evie, these are brilliant!”

Before Evangeline could respond, a sharp knock at the door interrupted them. Anne shot her a quick grin before hurrying to answer it. She opened the door to reveal Sebastian and Ominis standing on the threshold, each carrying boxes along with a parchment envelope identical to the one Evangeline had just opened.

“Results are in, then?” Sebastian asked, holding up his envelope with a triumphant smirk.

Anne stepped aside, motioning them in. “Come on in. Evie just opened hers—she did wonderfully, of course.”

Sebastian strutted into the flat, tossing his box onto the floor before collapsing onto the sofa. “Well, let’s see how the universe treated me,” he said dramatically, snatching it up and ripping it open with an exaggerated flourish. His eyes scanned the results, his expression unreadable for a moment before he broke into a grin. “Well, would you look at that? Defense, Potions, and even bloody Charms—all good enough for Auror training.”

Anne rolled her eyes, setting her hands on her hips. “No one doubted you, Sebastian.”

“Least of all himself,” Ominis added dryly, stepping inside with his usual composure. He carefully unfolded his envelope, scanning the parchment briefly before tucking it neatly into his coat pocket. “Passed everything, as expected. No surprises.”

Anne grinned, bustling back into the kitchen to fetch more mugs of tea. “Well, now that the hard part’s over and everyone's passed, it’s time to focus on the exciting bit—moving day!"

By mid-morning, the four of them were knee-deep in boxes, furniture, and an assortment of oddities that had somehow accumulated over the years. Ominis and Sebastian’s flat was a hub of activity, with Sebastian directing where things should go while Ominis sighed at his friend’s lack of organization.

“Sebastian, you can’t just dump everything in the sitting room and hope it’ll sort itself,” Ominis chided, gesturing to the growing pile of books, clothes, and potion supplies.

“It’s called the chaos method,” Sebastian replied, grinning as he dropped another box onto the pile.

Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose while Anne walked into the flat with another box in hand.

"Where'd you want this one?" She asked.

Sebastian squinted at the label on the box, which read 'Books - Potions and Defense.' He scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… over there with the others,” he said vaguely, waving toward the teetering stack of boxes by the fireplace.

Ominis let out a long-suffering sigh, his tone sharp. “Merlin’s sake, Sebastian, at this rate, you’ll never find anything. Anne, put it by the bookshelves in the corner. At least there’s some semblance of logic there.”

Anne shot Ominis a playful salute and placed the box where he indicated. “I’m with Ominis on this one, Sebastian. Chaos is not a method.”

Sebastian smirked, unfazed. “Not a method for you, maybe. But I thrive in organized chaos.”

“That explains your hair,” Evangeline quipped as she walked in, carrying a small potted plant Anne had insisted they bring for decoration. She set it on the windowsill, brushing her hands off with a smirk.

Sebastian’s hand went to his hair, ruffling it absentmindedly. “Rude. You love my hair.”

“Never said I didn’t,” Evangeline replied, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

Ominis cleared his throat loudly, cutting through their banter. “As entertaining as this is, some of us would like to finish unpacking before the day is out.”

Sebastian chuckled, grabbing another box and heading toward the kitchen. “Fine, fine. You’re no fun, Ominis.”

“I’m plenty of fun,” Ominis countered dryly. “I just prefer my fun to not involve tripping over potion bottles or a collapsing stack of books.”

Evangeline, sensing the beginnings of a row, rolled her eyes and stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough bickering,” she said, her voice firm but light. She drew her wand with a flick, levitating the nearest stack of books and directing them neatly onto the empty shelves along the far wall. “Anne and I will handle the unpacking. You two can focus on lugging the rest of these boxes from Hogwarts.”

Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, watching her with an expression that was equal parts admiration and annoyance. “Bossy today, aren’t we?”

“Only when it’s necessary,” Evangeline shot back, not missing a beat. She waved her wand again, setting a set of kitchen supplies onto the counter. “Now, are you going to stand there looking pretty, or are you actually going to help?”

Anne snorted, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. Ominis, however, seized the opportunity, tugging Sebastian toward the door. “You heard her, Sallow. Time to earn your keep.”

Sebastian groaned dramatically as he allowed himself to be dragged away. “Fine. But don’t blame me if something goes missing in the chaos.”

“Nothing will go missing if you follow instructions for once,” Ominis retorted dryly as they disappeared down the staircase.

The door shut behind them, leaving Anne and Evangeline in relative peace. Anne turned to her, a bemused expression on her face. “You handled that beautifully.”

Evangeline grinned, setting another pot on the windowsill. “Someone had to.”

The next hour passed in a satisfying rhythm. With Anne working beside her, Evangeline managed to unpack most of the kitchen supplies, arranging them neatly in the cupboards. Afterwards, she flitted about the flat, placing books on shelves and organizing a modest collection of potion ingredients on a small table near the window.

Anne stepped back from the counter, admiring their handiwork. “This is starting to look like an actual home.”

Evangeline wiped her hands on her jeans, glancing around with a sense of accomplishment. “Not bad for a morning’s work.”

“Not bad at all,” Anne agreed, stretching her arms overhead. She nodded toward the empty bookshelves on the opposite wall. “Want me to take over those while you handle Sebastian's bedroom? If you don’t step in, he’ll end up living out of boxes until Christmas.”

Evangeline sighed, setting the books gently onto the shelf. “You’re not wrong,” she muttered, more to herself than Anne.

She headed down the corridor to Sebastian’s yet-to-be-unpacked bedroom. The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, revealing a space that was pure, unfiltered Sebastian: half-open boxes piled on the floor, a trunk propped against the wall, and a scattering of clothes that hadn’t yet made it to the wardrobe.

She let out a low whistle, surveying the mess. “Chaos method, indeed.”

With a resigned sigh, Evangeline set to work, her wand flicking to levitate a pile of shirts into the open wardrobe. As she organized, she couldn’t help but notice the little details that made the space undeniably his: the well-worn copy of Advanced Defensive Tactics on the bedside table, a battered Slytherin scarf draped over the back of a chair, and a small collection of framed photographs leaning against the wall, yet to be hung.

A knock at the doorframe startled her, and she turned to find Sebastian leaning casually against it, his arms crossed and a lopsided grin on his face. "Snooping, were you?”

Evangeline flushed, hastily setting the frame down. “I wasn’t snooping. I was rescuing your bedroom from itself.”

Sebastian stepped inside, glancing at the now-organized wardrobe and the tidy desk. “Well, I’m impressed. And a little bit terrified. You didn’t find any—” he gestured vaguely, “—incriminating evidence, did you?”

Evangeline smirked, crossing her arms. “Not yet. But there’s still time.”

His gaze softened slightly as he nodded toward the framed photographs she’d been noticed moments ago. "I used to think that camera Adelaide bought would be useless, but..."

Evangeline hesitated for a moment, then reached for a photo of their Hogwarts friend group by the Black Lake. She held it up, watching the animated figures laugh and jostle one another. “I remember this day,” she said softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Poppy nearly fell into the lake, and Garreth wouldn’t stop egging her on.”

Sebastian leaned over her shoulder, his expression fond as he glanced at the moving image. “Yeah, and then Natty hexed him. Completely deserved, if you ask me.”

Evangeline chuckled, setting the photo down and picking up one of them in Hogsmeade. The version of herself in the image was laughing, her head tilted toward Sebastian, who wore a grin so wide it looked like he’d never stop smiling. “This one’s nice,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t know you kept it.”

Sebastian’s gaze lingered on the photo, his usual playful demeanor giving way to something more earnest. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s one of my favorites.”

Evangeline’s cheeks warmed, and she quickly set the frame back on the desk, turning away to busy herself with folding a stray sweater.

“Oi! Are you two slacking off in there? We've got a whole second flat we need to sort!” Anne’s voice echoed down the hallway, cutting through the quiet moment like a sharp breeze.

Evangeline jumped slightly, her hands stilling on the sweater she was folding. Sebastian smirked, clearly unbothered by his sister’s interruption. “Relax, Anne! We’re just making sure my room doesn’t end up looking like a war zone.”

Anne appeared in the doorway a moment later, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “Well, I see she’s done a good job. Maybe you should hire her permanently, Sebastian."

Evangeline let out a laugh, shaking her head as she placed the folded sweater on the bed. “I think one cleanup is more than enough. He’s on his own after this.”

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest. “Abandoned already? And here I thought we were building something special.”

Anne rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “Please, you’re lucky she hasn’t hexed you yet. Now, come on Seb—we're going to pick out furniture for our place.”

Sebastian perked up at Anne’s words, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Prepare to be dazzled by my impeccable taste.”

Anne muttered something about fire hazards under her breath, but she relented, waving them toward the door. “Let’s get this over with. If I let you have free reign, we’ll end up with dragon skulls on the mantelpiece.”

Soon after, the group arrived at Furnish & Flourish, a bustling magical furniture shop just off Diagon Alley. The storefront shimmered with enchanted displays, beds floating lazily in the window and tables setting themselves with fine china. Inside, the air buzzed with quiet magic—furniture rearranging itself, chairs stretching their legs, and tapestries adjusting their designs to match passing customers’ preferences.

Anne immediately gravitated toward a display of plush armchairs that appeared to be embroiled in a silent but animated debate over who was the comfiest. Evangeline trailed after her, trying not to laugh as Anne sank into one chair that puffed up triumphantly as if declaring its superiority.

“This one feels like a cloud!” Anne declared, wiggling into the seat. “Evie, you’ve got to try it.”

Before Evangeline could reply, Sebastian wandered over, plucking up a bright green cushion from a nearby display and smirking. “Perfect for a Slytherin sitting room,” he quipped, tossing it onto the chair next to Anne.

Anne rolled her eyes, plucking the cushion off with mock disdain. “I’m sure Evie and I can manage without your decorating expertise, Sebastian.”

“I beg to differ,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “I have impeccable taste.”

Ominis, who had been standing quietly by the entrance, let out a low sigh. “If this is what the next hour will be like, I might find the nearest table to hide under.”

Evangeline chuckled, shaking her head as she wandered further into the shop. Her gaze landed on a display of beds at the far end of the store, each one meticulously made up with colorful linens that fluttered faintly as though caught in a soft breeze.

One bed caught her eye—a pretty, white-washed wooden frame with a high headboard and a set of soft, muted linens in shades of blue and cream.

Sebastian appeared at her side, his hands shoved into his pockets as he surveyed the options. “Thinking of upgrading from the Undercroft’s finest?”

Evangeline smiled faintly, brushing her fingers over the quilt. “Something like that. What do you think of this one?”

He tilted his head, studying the bed as though it were a complex puzzle. “Looks comfortable.” His brow arched. “Why? Looking for my approval?”

She flushed, glancing away. “Maybe a little. We’ve been sharing a bed for months now, so I figured you might have some input. But I mean, well, it’s not like it has to stay that way. I guess we have our own places now..."

Her words tumbled out in a nervous rush, and she busied herself with smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle on the bedspread. “I can always cast silencing charms for Anne, or maybe my nightmares will stop altogether since we're so close to perfecting those wards, or… you know, it’s not a big deal.”

Sebastian’s smirk softened into something gentler as he watched her. “Evie,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “Stop worrying about it.”

She glanced up at him, her hazel eyes wide and uncertain. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupted, taking a step closer. “And for the record, I was hoping we'd keep our little arrangement."

Evangeline’s breath caught, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he was joking. But there was no teasing smirk, no glint of mischief in his eyes—just quiet sincerity that made her chest tighten.

“You… you were?”

Sebastian nodded, his hands still tucked in his pockets as he leaned slightly closer. “Yeah. I mean, it works, doesn’t it? You sleep better, and honestly…” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the quilt she was nervously smoothing before returning to her face. “I do too.”

Her cheeks flushed, the warmth spreading down her neck as her mind scrambled for a response. The quiet honesty in his voice, the way his dark eyes stayed locked on hers—it was almost too much.

“But we have our own places now,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to—”

“Evie,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “It’s not about that. I’m saying I want to. My place, your place—it doesn’t matter. I don’t mind.”

She blinked, her throat tightening with a rush of emotion she didn’t know how to process. “You don’t?”

“Of course not,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Sterling.”

Her laugh was soft, almost shaky, as she tried to steady herself. “Alright," she swallowed, turning back to the bed. "So... you like this one then?"

Sebastian's smile widened, his eyes flicking between her and the bed. “I do. It’s a good choice. Sturdy, comfortable… and I happen to like blue.”

Evangeline huffed a soft laugh, a mix of relief and nervous energy bubbling up in her chest. “Well, that’s a ringing endorsement.”

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer to examine the linens again, his shoulder brushing hers. “Just make sure the mattress is firm enough. No sense in waking up with a sore back.”

She arched a brow at him, her lips twitching. “Do you have anything else to add, oh expert in bed quality?”

“Just that if I’m going to be sleeping there, it’d better hold up,” he said smoothly, his grin dipping into playful territory.

It’d better hold up.

Evangeline’s mind betrayed her, conjuring a sharp, teasing retort: And what exactly are you planning to do in my bed that requires such sturdiness? The words hovered at the edge of her tongue, daring her to voice them, but she quickly pressed her lips together, refusing to give them life. A flush crept up her cheeks, warm and unmistakable, as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

Sebastian’s grin widened, his dark eyes catching the faint pink staining her face. “What’s that look for?” he asked, leaning a fraction closer, his tone playfully inquisitive.

“Nothing” she said quickly, a little too quickly, and busied herself with fluffing the nearest pillow to avoid his gaze. “Thanks for the expert opinion, Sallow. Your services are no longer needed.”

Before he could respond, Anne’s voice cut through the air from across the shop. “Evie, come look at these curtains! They match your color scheme perfectly.”

Grateful for the reprieve, Evangeline gave Sebastian a pointed look before turning on her heel. “Duty calls. Try not to break anything while I’m gone.”

By the time they finished their shopping, the four of them were laden with bags and boxes filled with everything from furniture to kitchenware to decorative touches that Anne had insisted on. The shopkeeper promised to have the larger items delivered to their respective flats by the time they arrived home, leaving them free to carry the smaller purchases.

As they stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight, Evangeline let out a sigh of relief. “I think we bought enough to furnish three flats, not two.”

Anne grinned, balancing a box on her hip. “You can never have too much, Evie. A cozy home is a happy home.”

Sebastian fell into step beside Evangeline, his hands full of shopping bags. “Speaking of cozy, I expect to see this bed of yours in action tonight. You know, for quality control.”

Evangeline froze for a fraction of a second, her mind stuttering over Sebastian's words. He can't possibly mean it like that. Can he?

Her cheeks flared pink as she shot a glance at him, but Sebastian’s expression was maddeningly innocent, his dark eyes focused ahead as if his words had been the most casual remark in the world. That easy smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though—a telltale sign he knew exactly the effect his words had.

Ahead of them, Anne and Ominis were walking side by side, and Evangeline didn’t miss the way Anne’s shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. Ominis, for his part, was smirking faintly, his head tilted toward Anne as if she were whispering something particularly entertaining.

Evangeline groaned inwardly.

“Something funny up there?” Sebastian called, his tone laced with amusement.

“Just enjoying the show," Anne replied, not even bothering to turn around.

Evangeline shot a glare at the back of Anne’s head, though she knew it was a futile gesture. She sighed, tugging the shopping bag in her hand closer to her chest as they continued toward their flats. “Don’t you have anything better to focus on?”

Anne glanced over her shoulder, her grin wide and unapologetic. “Not at the moment.”

Sebastian chuckled, clearly unbothered by the teasing. If anything, he seemed to thrive on it. “Don’t be embarrassed, Evie. Anne and Ominis are just jealous they don’t have what we do.”

Evangeline nearly tripped over her own feet, her mind scrambling to process his words. “What we—? Sebastian Sallow, you are—”

“Charming?” he supplied, his smirk widening as he looked down at her. “Thoughtful? Endearing?”

She let out an exasperated sound, her hazel eyes narrowing at him. “I was going to say infuriating."

Sebastian grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and Evangeline groaned, quickening her pace again to catch up with Anne and Ominis. The two of them were in full teasing mode now, Anne’s eyes sparkling with mischief as Ominis tried—and failed—to hide his amusement.

Anne leaned closer to Ominis, her voice low but loud enough for Evangeline to hear. “You know, they’ve really perfected the art of the married couple bickering. It’s almost impressive.”

Ominis hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head as though considering her words. “I’d say it’s more than perfected."

Evangeline groaned, her cheeks heating as she quickened her steps to join them. “Would you two stop? I don’t need this nonsense from both of you.”

Anne gave her a sly smile, her brow arching as she adjusted the box she was carrying. “We’re just making observations, Evie. Scientific ones.”

Sebastian, who had been trailing behind with a smirk that was entirely too smug, caught up with the group and leaned casually between Anne and Ominis. “Oh, please, don’t let her stop your scientific analysis. It’s always nice to hear how we’re perceived by the public.”

Anne snorted, and Ominis’ lips twitched in amusement, but neither replied. Evangeline sighed, pushing ahead slightly to escape their teasing grins.

As they approached Anne and Evie's building, the golden light of the late afternoon bathed the cobblestones in a warm glow. The sight was almost enough to calm Evangeline’s flustered nerves—until Sebastian leaned close to her, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

"I'll come by tonight around eight to test that bed of yours," Sebastian murmured, his voice low and deliberate, a teasing edge laced in his tone.

Her cheeks flared a bright pink as she stumbled over her words, her thoughts a chaotic jumble. “I—Sebastian—are you—”

“Relax, Sterling,” he interrupted, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm only trying to help you sleep."

Anne, clearly catching the tail end of the exchange, turned to glance at Evangeline with a knowing smirk. “What did he say this time?”

“Nothing worth repeating,” Evangeline replied, her tone sharp but lacking real venom. She glanced back at Sebastian, her hazel eyes narrowing. “He’s just testing how far he can push me before I lose my sanity.”

“I’d say you’re holding up remarkably well,” Sebastian quipped, his grin widening.

Ominis shook his head with a faint sigh. “I’ve long since given up trying to temper him. Perhaps you’ll have better luck, Evangeline.”

“Not likely,” Evangeline muttered, reaching the front door of her flat and fumbling with her key. “Anne, remind me why we invited them shopping again?”

Anne laughed, stepping past her to open the door with ease. “Because, deep down, you enjoy their company. Admit it.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll admit no such thing.”

The group filed into the flat, their arms laden with shopping bags and boxes. Anne set down her haul on the kitchen counter and clapped her hands together. “Right, let’s get everything unpacked. Evie, you’re on curtain duty.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Evangeline replied, heading toward the pile of fabric they’d chosen. She paused, glancing over her shoulder at Sebastian, who was lounging against the wall with his usual air of nonchalance. “If you’re not too busy being insufferable, maybe you could help?”

Sebastian smirked. “Your wish is my command.”

Ominis muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “lovebirds,” but his lips twitched with amusement as he set about organizing the kitchen.

Evangeline shook her head, unfurling the curtains and motioning for Sebastian to hold one end. “Just hold this steady while I charm the hooks into place.”

Sebastian obeyed, his grin softening into something quieter as he watched her work. The gentle glow of her wand illuminated her face, and for a moment, he found himself captivated by the way the golden light caught in her hair and brought out the flecks of green in her eyes.

“You’re staring,” Evangeline said without looking at him, her voice light but teasing.

“Can’t help it,” Sebastian replied easily.

Anne’s voice cut through the quiet, breaking the moment like a pin to a bubble. “Evie, where do you want these cushions? Arm chairs or sofa?”

Evangeline blinked, turning away from Sebastian and focusing on Anne. “On the sofa, I think. They’ll add some color.”

Once the curtains were hung, Evangeline wiped her hands on her skirt and moved to the kitchen, where Ominis was meticulously arranging the cupboard shelves. “How’s it going in here?” she asked, leaning against the counter.

Ominis glanced in her direction, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It’s coming together. Though I suspect Sebastian will undo my efforts within a week if he's going to be staying over regularly.”

“I heard that,” Sebastian called from the living room.

“You were meant to,” Ominis replied smoothly, earning a chuckle from Evangeline.

Anne appeared beside her, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We should probably think about dinner soon. I vote we order in—after all this, I don’t have the energy to cook.”

“Agreed,” Evangeline said quickly, already imagining a plate of warm, comforting food. “What’s everyone in the mood for?”

“Anything but that bizarre kelpie curry Ominis ordered last time,” Sebastian said as he wandered into the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter beside Evangeline.

“It wasn’t bizarre,” Ominis protested, his tone calm but firm. “It was authentic.”

“It tasted like pond water,” Sebastian quipped.

Evangeline laughed, holding up her hands to cut off the impending debate. “Alright, no kelpie curry. How about something simple? Pie and chips?”

Anne pulled out her wand and summoned a small notepad from the counter, jotting down their preferences. "Alright, pie and chips it is. Any requests for drinks?"

By the time their dinner arrived, the flat had started to feel more like a home. The curtains hung perfectly, the kitchen was neatly arranged (much to Ominis’s satisfaction), and the living room had been transformed with plush cushions and a soft rug Anne had picked out. The scent of savory pies and crispy chips filled the air as they gathered around the modest dining table, their laughter echoing off the walls.

Sebastian popped the cap off a bottle of butterbeer and leaned back in his chair, raising it in a mock toast. “To surviving moving day without anyone hexing me—though I know you all thought about it.”

Anne raised her pumpkin juice with a grin. “The thought certainly crossed my mind.”

Ominis held up his tea with a faint smile. “I’m still considering it.”

Evangeline chuckled. “And yet here you are, unhexed and still insufferable. Truly, a miracle.”

Sebastian smirked, tilting his bottle toward her. “Cheers to miracles, then.”

They clinked their drinks together, the warmth of the moment settling over them like a comforting blanket. For a while, they ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the clink of forks and the occasional scrape of a chair. But as their plates emptied, the conversation turned toward the future.

Anne was the first to speak, her voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Sitting here, in a place that’s ours, starting over. I’ve wanted this for so long, but now that it’s real…” She trailed off, her fingers playing with the edge of her napkin.

“You’re nervous,” Ominis guessed, his tone understanding.

Anne nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Excited too, but yeah. Nervous. I can’t believe they offered me the apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s without a diploma from Hogwarts.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Anne,” Ominis said gently. “You’ve been studying the curriculum on your own for years now. The hospital staff would be fools not to notice your dedication.”

Anne’s smile grew, her cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and humility. “I just… I didn’t think they’d take me seriously. I thought I needed the formal education, you know?”

Evangeline reached across the table, resting her hand lightly on Anne’s. “They offered you that position because they see your potential, Anne. Your work speaks for itself.”

Anne’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the teasing, carefree side of her vanished, replaced by the vulnerability she usually kept hidden. “I didn’t expect it to happen this way. I am grateful, really, but also a little… overwhelmed.”

Sebastian leaned forward, his tone teasing but supportive. “Well, if you’re ever in a bind, you know who to call. I’ll come hex your supervisors into submission.”

Anne laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t you dare. I have enough trouble staying out of trouble without you adding to it.”

“You'll be too busy to get into any trouble, Anne,” Sebastian said before his gaze softened. “Seriously though, you’re going to be brilliant at it.”

Anne gave a soft chuckle, her fingers drumming on the edge of her cup. “Thanks. But what if I mess up? What if I can’t do it?”

Ominis spoke up, his voice calm and reassuring. “You won’t. You’ve got the drive, the knowledge, and the heart to make it. The rest is just putting it into practice.”

Anne smiled at him, grateful for his confidence in her. “I hope you’re right.”

Sebastian leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright, enough about Anne. We’ve all got our own big things coming up.” He looked toward Ominis, the subject of the next conversation. “How are you feeling about the Ministry job? Still feeling ready to face that battlefield?”

Ominis hesitated, his eyes momentarily distant as he sipped his tea. “I'm looking forward to articling under the best, but I can't shake the feeling that it’s all going to be... quite political, given my name," he sighed. "I'd like to make something of myself without the weight of my family’s reputation hanging over me.”

Evangeline gave him a sympathetic look. "You will prove yourself, Ominis. You’ve always done it, in everything. The politics might be overwhelming, but you're sharp enough to navigate it all."

Ominis gave her a small, grateful smile, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks."

Evangeline smiled, but before she could say more, Anne leaned forward, her hands clasped together on the table. "So what about you, Evie?" she asked.

Evangeline hesitated, glancing down at her half-finished meal before meeting Anne’s gaze. "Well, my position with the Department of Magical Artifacts is looking promising. I’ve been going in for paperwork and orientation for the past few weeks. But—” She hesitated, looking at her friends, knowing she hadn’t told them the full story.

Anne raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more. “But?”

Evangeline sighed heavily. The weight of the unopened conversation pressed on her chest, and she realized she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. The Ministry letter, which she’d managed to push to the back of her mind in the whirlwind of the day, now loomed large in her thoughts. Perhaps it was better to just rip off the bandage.

“But,” she started again, her voice quieter this time, “I got an offer earlier. From the Ministry. Something… unexpected.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Unexpected how? You’re already on track to be their star Cursebreaker. What else could they possibly want from you?”

Evangeline hesitated, her gaze darting between their expectant faces. Anne’s curiosity was plain, her head tilted slightly, while Ominis watched her with that calm attentiveness that always made her feel seen. Sebastian, clearly impatient, was tapping his fingers on the table, waiting for her to elaborate.

“It’s not just about my position,” she admitted, setting her cup down and fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “They’ve invited me to join a research expedition. In New Zealand.”

There was a beat of silence as the words sank in. Sebastian's posture stiffened, his hand hovering midair, frozen as he reached for his butterbeer. His gaze flicked to Evangeline, his expression carefully unreadable, though the tension in his jaw didn’t escape her notice.

Ominis broke the silence first, leaning forward with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “New Zealand?” he repeated, his tone measured but intrigued. “That’s fascinating. I’ve read about the magical communities there. Smaller than here, of course, but rich with history.”

Anne chimed in, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “Can you imagine the kinds of things you’d discover? Merlin’s beard, you’d be at the forefront of magical history. Are you considering it? It sounds like exactly the kind of thing you’ve been working toward forever.”

Evangeline managed a small smile at their encouragement, but her attention kept drifting back to Sebastian. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word since she’d spoken. His butterbeer sat untouched, and though his eyes were on her, there was a shadow in them she couldn’t quite decipher. It was unlike him to stay so quiet.

“I just found out about it this morning," she said quickly. "And obviously... well I haven't had much time to think about it. There’s a lot to consider," she swallowed hard, “It’s not like it’s a definite thing."

Sebastian didn’t meet her gaze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his bottle. Anne, unaware of the undercurrent between them, leaned forward eagerly.

“Still, it’s such an incredible opportunity. Imagine the stories you’d come back with! And it’s not like you’d be gone forever, right? Just long enough to uncover some ancient magical treasure, save the wizarding world, and then swoop back home.”

Ominis smiled faintly, though his focus remained on Evangeline. “Indeed. It’s temporary, isn’t it? The expedition will end eventually, and then you’d return with more experience than most Cursebreakers could dream of."

"I… well, I assume it's temporary," Evangeline said hesitantly, her voice trailing off. She bit her lip, her hands clasping tightly around her tea cup. "But the letter didn’t actually specify how long the expedition would last."

Anne blinked, her enthusiasm faltering for a moment. “Wait, they didn’t give you a timeline? That’s… a bit vague, isn’t it?”

Ominis tilted his head thoughtfully. “Not uncommon for work with the Ministry, I suppose. Research can be unpredictable. It could take months. Maybe longer.”

Anne’s brows knitted together. “Months? That’s a big ask. And they expect you to just uproot everything without giving you a clear picture of when you’ll be back?”

Finally, Sebastian broke his silence, his voice low and measured. “They must think you’re the best person for the job, Evie,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. His words were encouraging on the surface, but there was a sharpness in his tone that made her heart sink. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t be offering it to you."

Evangeline frowned. She could see right through his detached demeanor, the way his gaze seemed to skim past her rather than truly meeting her eyes. “Maybe,” she said quietly, searching his face. “But it’s not just about the job, Sebastian. You know that.”

Anne, still oblivious to the tension, chimed in, her hands gesturing animatedly. “And that’s why you’d be perfect for it, Evie. You care about this stuff. You’re not just doing it for prestige; you’d actually make a difference.

Evangeline offered her a weak smile, and meanwhile Sebastian picked up his butterbeer, finally taking a sip, though his movements were mechanical, his focus elsewhere.

After a few moments of lingering awkwardness, the tension began to ease, and the conversation naturally shifted to lighter topics. Anne launched into a spirited story about her latest encounter with a particularly nosy neighbor at St. Mungo's, complete with exaggerated impressions that had everyone chuckling. Ominis chimed in with his dry wit, tossing in a few well-timed comments that earned genuine laughter from the group. But even as Evangeline laughed along with them, a small part of her remained tethered to the unanswered question lingering in the back of her mind—a question she knew she couldn’t avoid forever.

Once dinner had been cleared away, Ominis stood, stretching his arms. “Well, I’d better be off. Can’t be late for the first day of articling tomorrow. It’s rather unbecoming of a future wizarding lawyer to leave a trail of bad impressions in his wake.”

Sebastian, who had been lazily leaning back in his chair, straightened with an exaggerated stretch. “Don’t worry, Ominis, you’ll charm them with that impeccable wit of yours,” he said with a smirk, earning an exasperated shake of the head from his friend. Turning to Evangeline, he added, “I’ll be back. Just need to grab some pajamas.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “Try not to get lost on the way,” she teased lightly, though her smile faltered as he turned and walked out of the room.

With Sebastian and Ominis gone, the flat fell into a quieter rhythm, leaving Evangeline and Anne to tidy up in relative peace. Anne hummed softly as she dried the dishes, while Evangeline stood at the sink, her hands moving automatically as she rinsed plates and glasses. But her thoughts were far from the task at hand.

Anne seemed to sense when something was amiss. She hummed softly as she put away the last of the leftovers, then glanced over at Evangeline, who was staring absently at the water. “You’re quiet,” she remarked, turning to face her friend.

Evangeline sighed, drying her hands on a towel before leaning against the counter. “I just… I don’t know. Sebastian’s reaction to the New Zealand thing—it felt off.”

Anne gave her a small, knowing smile as she dried a dish. “Sebastian cares about you, Evie. You know that. It’s not easy when someone important to you might leave, especially when the future’s uncertain.”

Evangeline sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “I get that, I really do. But it’s not just the future that’s uncertain, Anne. It’s the present. I don’t even know what this thing is between me and Sebastian. It feels like we’re standing on some kind of precipice, and I have no idea whether we’re supposed to jump or just… stand there.” She shook her head, her voice softening. “And clearly, he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of me going abroad. But if he really doesn’t want me to go, why can’t he just… say it? Or tell me what this is between us?”

Anne studied her quietly, her expression thoughtful. After a moment, she set the towel down and folded her arms. “Evie, can I ask you something?”

Evangeline nodded, glancing over at her. “Of course.”

“Does your decision about the expedition really hinge on... him? Your relationship?”

Evangeline stilled, the question hanging in the air between them. She hadn’t thought about it explicitly—not in those terms—but the answer rose in her chest before she could stop it, a quiet and undeniable truth. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the towel she was holding as she whispered, “Yes.”

Anne’s expression softened, though her brows knitted slightly in concern. “Evie,” she said gently, “are you sure that’s fair? To yourself, I mean. It’s a massive opportunity.”

Evangeline sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know I should be thinking about what I want, but I can’t help it. I—” She paused, shaking her head as if to clear it. "Anne, I'm in love with him."

The words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Anne’s face softened further, her eyes shining with quiet understanding.

“If he told me not to go,” Evangeline continued, her voice trembling now, “if he said he wanted me to stay… I’d stay. Without a second thought. I’d give it all up for him.”

Before Anne could respond, Evangeline let out a bitter laugh, her hands dropping to her sides. "I don't know. Perhaps... the upcoming social season will make things clearer.”

Anne tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “...What do you mean?”

Evangeline hesitated, biting her lip. “Parties, dances, introductions… It’s where people meet the ones they end up with.” Her voice grew quieter. “Maybe he’ll meet someone, and the decision will be made for me."

Anne’s frown deepened. “Evie, you don't really believe that."

Evangeline gave her a rueful smile. “I don't know, Anne. If he isn't going to commit to me, and name whatever this thing is between us, then... maybe there will be someone else, someone more…” She trailed off, her voice barely audible. “More suitable.”

Anne straightened, her expression firm as she crossed her arms. “Evie, just because Sebastian will be an ‘eligible bachelor’ this season doesn’t suddenly mean he’s going to replace you."

Evangeline let out a shaky laugh, though her doubt didn’t completely fade. “You make it sound so easy, like he’s not going to spend the whole season dancing with every eligible witch in the room.”

Anne tilted her head, giving Evangeline a sly smile. “For one thing, if he does, I'll hex him. And even then, let’s not forget you’re going to have more than your fair share of attention, too. If Sebastian doesn’t get his act together, trust me, Evie, there will be a line of suitors who’d be more than happy to sweep you off your feet.”

Evangeline swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. "I don’t care about the events or my prospects, Anne. I’ve learned the hard way, with Lysander, with Alaric... nobody else will ever be enough. I won't be happy. I’d... I'd rather be alone than pretend to love someone who will never measure up.”

Anne’s expression softened again, and she let out a long, quiet sigh, the kind that spoke of knowing things she didn’t want to admit. She loved her brother, but it frustrated her to no end that he could be so oblivious sometimes—so tangled in his own worries and pride that he couldn’t see how much he was hurting Evangeline.

“I hate that he’s putting you through this.” Anne sighed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the counter. “I really do. And it’s so frustrating how it’s always expected that the man should make the first move, make the declarations, like that's the only way things are supposed to happen."

Evangeline let out a soft laugh, though it sounded hollow even to her ears. "All these ridiculous customs, and in the meantime, I’m just supposed to… wait? To hope he gets over himself and decides to take that leap?”

Anne sighed, reaching to squeeze Evangeline's hand. “The answer might not be obvious right now,” she said, “But there's still time. So for now, why don’t we finish tidying up and get some rest? Tomorrow is a new day, and who knows? Maybe by then, things will feel a little clearer.”

Evangeline managed a faint smile, though her mind still whirled with doubts and what-ifs. “Maybe,” she murmured, turning back to the sink to finish rinsing the last of the dishes.

Anne hummed softly as she picked up the towel again. The quiet rhythm of their work filled the space, the tension ebbing slightly as the mundane task pulled Evangeline from her thoughts.

But as she dried her hands and glanced at the window, the pale moonlight spilling into the flat, she couldn’t shake the feeling that a decision was looming.

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kyoongboxi · 1 year ago

Text

Love Me Endlessly —

[Baekhyun AU]

Summary; When he thought he was done went through the hard times but it seems like its always follows everywhere he goes closely behind. At first the man thought he was the most affected because of the burden he carries as a husband but then he realized what he carried means nothing to what she has suffered.

Pairing; Baekhyun x OC

Genre; angst, fluff, a bit of sexual intercourse

The office is usually quiet when the clock shows its already around two a.m in the morning. The Investigation Division were left for a mission but this time, Baekhyun retreated so he chose to stay in the office with his friend to stand by if something happened. He was casually sitting on his desk, rubbing his temple with his eyes closed when his friend came back with two cups of coffee grasped around his fingers.

"Hyung" The younger man joined him on his desk, placing the coffee down against the table. "Something on your mind?"

Baekhyun sighed, finally pulling his palm away from his temple before taking a sip to the coffee his friend brought. "You know what I think I'm gonna head home. You can handle this alone. If they ask for a backup then call the local police and tell them I left early"

The man stood up, collecting his stuff not forgetting the free coffee before leaving the younger man alone. Mark didn't answer because it left him too stunned to speak as he watched his senior's back disappeared out of his sight.

As the night progressed, the streets became increasingly quiet. Baekhyun doesn't live in the capital, but in a small town quite far from it. Every time his hands gripped the steering wheel, his eyes along with his thoughts always went to the ring wrapped securely around his finger. Thinking about the only woman he loves so much back at home.

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes to arrive, he parked his vehicle in the basement before taking the elevator to go up into the 15th floor where the place full of stories live in. He drank his coffee from Mark in the elevator, and then wondered if it actually tasted weird after he emptied the cup but he appreciated the younger man for the effort.

Baekhyun pressed the passcode lock carefully when he arrived in front of the door. Pushing the door open and his eyes were greeted with dim lights from the city lights passing through the window that illuminated the room. His feet carried him further inside and there she was, his lover, Shin Jori. The woman he loves the most was sleeping soundly on the couch covered in thin blanket. Ain't noticing if Baekhyun were back already from his duty.

The sight of her sleeping already caused his heart to be crushed into a mess, remembering what she had been through lately. He was planning to pick her up and lay her down on the bed but right after he finished the shower. One hour he spent his time in the shower. Letting the warm water stream down his hair, down to his shoulder for the last ten minutes while his thoughts was cursing him.

That he failed to be her lover, he failed to be her husband, he failed to be her protector. He was hurt seeing her suffer. He just wants to make it stop and witness only happiness that surrounds her everyday but he can't. Feels like it's already taking too long under the shower, he swept his wet hair back using his palm for the last time before finally turning off the water.

Choosing a random black shirt and sweatpants to wear right after he dried up and wasting no time to storm back into the living room. Jori still hasn't moved from her previous position because Baekhyun is aware the woman is barely moved when she sleep on the bed with him. Her body tilted into the right, facing the couch.

A faint smile finds its way into his lips, seeing his wife sleeping peacefully with her lips half parted but she didn't snore at all. Meanwhile Jori herself confessed that Baekhyun let out a sound like a whimpering puppy when he sleeps with his half parted lips. The man then crouched down for a bit. Gently placing his arms behind her back and her thighs before picking the woman up into his arms carefully.

He kicked the bedroom door then, after several steps he passed through and laid her down against the mattress. Surprisingly, Jori didn't wake up at all. Makes him wonder that she is indeed exhausted from work and all the thoughts followed. Baekhyun noticed she was wearing his white shirt with the word loverboy printed on the left side as a smile immediately back to his lips again.

There were also no lights turned on in the bedroom. The window leads to the small balcony already giving enough lights to sleep on from the glimmering lights of various buildings in front of it. Baekhyun climbs up to the bed. Immediately stopped his movement when his wife moved to the left, facing her back to him. Didn't want to wake her up intentionally.

He counted, one, two, three until she doesn't make a move anymore before he lay down carefully right behind her. His arms sneak under the shirt softly, securely wrapping around her waist to bring her body flushes into him. Baekhyun planted a kiss against her head, it seems like Jori just cut her hair into shoulder length because this morning her hair is still pretty long. But whatever Jori does Baekhyun won't interfere. As long as it makes the woman happy then he won't be against it.

Baekhyun closes his eyes, inhaling into her hair as his delicate fingers slide down into her now-flat lower belly. Gently caressing her skin while the bitter memories went in a loop again inside his mind. Just two weeks ago, a small bump formed and a new life growing inside of her. A memory he could never forget and Baekhyun has never felt so happy again after she suffered the first miscarriage several months back.

Wouldn't cross his mind that such a bitter event repeatedly happened to his little family. It aches him so much seeing her went through the curettage procedure not only once but twice. Couldn't imagine the pain and uncomfortable feeling when a foreign object is forced to in up your uterus while scratching the surface of it to get cleaned. Even though it was anesthetized, Jori said she could still felt it. Bot to mention the super intense cramps that hit afterwards.

He remembers how she cried so much that day. Thinking and blaming herself that she failed to be a mother, she failed to be his wife. She raged to him that he shouldn't have taken a step further on the day she told him everything about her shortcomings. Shin Jori is diagnosed with a low immune system.

Never crossed her mind that her relationship with the man would last until Baekhyun himself proposed to her. She was very embarrassed to admit that she had a sickness that if people heard about, they would definitely feel disgusted and look at her with judging eyes because it makes her look like a sex fiend while in fact she's not.

But it doesn't make Baekhyun retreat. He said it can be cured and people with normal or higher immune systems won't get affected because he kissed and share the same food or drink with her multiple times and Baekhyun himself just doing fine. While intertwining their fingers together, Baekhyun promised he would never leave her no matter what happened and thats how Jori fell for it. Jori herself wouldn't expect that her low immune system could lead into a miscarriage when she thought its not really that bad.

"Aren't you supposed to stay in the office until morning?" A warm hand which is definitely smaller than him slides up on top of his hand that currently rested against her lower belly. Her voice was a bit hoarse, still heavy with sleep as she greeted him.

Baekhyun chuckled. Apologizing for waking her up in the middle of her peaceful sleep. "I can't resist. I always think about you a lot even though you always say to not worry about"

He was being honest. "Have you took your vitamins?" It was a daily question her husband will never forget to ask. Having a low immune system sometimes required her to take it for at least a week, two or three. At first Jori got pissed off by the question because Baekhyun is worrying too much. But now she understands.

She answered by a soft nod. Her soul is now completely awake. Both eyes were staring against the window which offered a beautiful scenery in the middle of the night sky. Baekhyun fell silent for a minute. She could feel his chest rising up and down slowly against her back while his thumb continued to stroke over her skin with barely any pressure.

"Why did you sleep on the couch?" Baekhyun asked again. This time, his question was answered by a light chuckle from her lips before her sentences followed right after.

"I don't know which one but our neighbors were kinda noisy with the love making session. Bothering me so much. Thank God they're probably passed out now because its stopped" Jori answered with honesty. Baekhyun couldn't hold his smile and thinking this is the right moment to tease her so he ducked his head, purposely pressing his lips against her ear.

"I know you are secretly hoping I don't stay late in the office and come home early tonight after that, right?" His lips nudged her ear slightly every time he spoke. Causing the woman to feel a tingle against her ear down to her neck. But Baekhyun himself wouldn't expect his wife to smack him on his bulge.

"What does that mean? Is that a yes?" The man can't stand it. With a cheeky smile plastered against his face, he crawled over her. Putting his weight on her carefully, nestled perfectly between her legs before resting his head against her chest and wrapping his arms around her body.

Jori was about to answer as she put her fingers into his hair. But her husband didn't let her speak. "Actually I'm joking. You can take your time as long as you need, anyway. Its been only two weeks"

She could feel his warm breath caressing her chest every time he spoke because she didn't wear anything besides his thin shirt and an underwear. "How are you down there?"

The first time Jori had her first sexual intercourse with a man is Baekhyun after they tied up in a sacred vow, after the woman revealed what is actually going on with her body because of the lack of immune. Baekhyun respects her a lot back then when they were still in a general relationship. He never forced the woman to do something related to sexual things because at first he thought that she is a religious woman, for real.

But after he found out, it turned out this lack of immune system caused the woman to suffer from a yeast infection. He remembers how Jori tried to hold her tears when she explained. She even says it's time to take the final decision if he decides to marry her and no going back. She was embarrassed to admit. With the HSV-1 virus residing inside her cells which showed up around her lips, she could already feel he labeled her a sex maniac in silence.

But in the end, this wise man named Byun Baekhyun proves her wrong. He said no matter what her condition is, she deserved to be loved by someone just like everybody else. And that someone is himself alone. "The cramps from the miscarriage are completely gone, I guess? And I'm currently clean from the yeast"

"Remember what the doctor said. You can't be too tired or these two little shit fuckers that won't never go out of my wife's body will recur at the same time"

Said Baekhyun with a light chuckle. Both of them fall silent for a while with Jori's fingers disappearing under the man's hair to stroke it gently. Meanwhile his mind is always thinking about how fragile this woman is and at the wildest one, he would never be ready to force himself standing against his own feet on the day God finally snatched her away from him.

"Can I kiss you?" Hell even if he caught HSV-1 transmitted by her, he doesn't give a single fuck. But Jori would slap him away and go sulking for days if the man suddenly went to claim her lips all of sudden. She said if the blister is currently visible, then he can't kiss her at all.

Jori then answered with a small nod. Baekhyun smiled and pushed himself up, currently hovering over her. As their eyes met, a wave of emotion washed over them both. As he slowly leaned in, their breaths caught in their throats, hearts fluttering in anticipation. His lips touched hers lightly at first. Caressing ever so gently as they savored the moment, before they finally merged in a deep, passionate kiss.

The kiss lasted for a minute. As their lips parted, their breathing slowed and his eyes met with her brown one. Her arm stayed around his neck. "Baekhyun I'm sorry I couldn't give you a child—"

Actually, his answer was expected but Jori still wants to let it off her chest because she hasn't properly apologized. "No don't go there. It was my fault. I should have pulled out I'm sorry"

"No.. We both know I told you to stay inside because I want to feel you completely"

Baekhyun nodded multiple times in understanding. His thumb went to her cheek to stroke her mochi cheek that has now disappeared because of the stress she went through. "You can feel me all you want, you can feel me all day, you can feel me until the 5th round but— Jori"

His voice softened as her name rolled out his tongue carefully. "I'd rather not have a child rather than seeing you suffer. It hurts me.. I'll do a vasectomy procedure. How do that sounds?"

Both of them fall into silence again. Jori was actually beyond surprised but she kept her face remains calm. Her eyes radiate a meaning which Baekhyun couldn't understand. Her lips openen in half parted as if she wants to speak something but it closes again.

"But— thats mean you can no longer cum?" She blurted out all of sudden and it caused the man's eyes to widen immediately. He wouldn't expect such an answer to come out of her pretty mouth. He expected she would answer something emotional after what happened but she didn't anyway. At least for now.

"You little rascal—"

"You love my cum so much don't you?" His laugh then formed into a slight smirk after several seconds it lasted. Suddenly got an idea to purposely dragged his thumb into her lips. Pushing in softly against her mouth with his wife gladly accepting and suck his thumb while her eyes locked with his brown one.

"I will still be able to ejaculate but its no longer has a sperm wandering around. And you will still be able to feel every inch of me just like usual..." A sudden burst of lust consumed him as a result of Jori watching him with those eyes.

Seeing her sucking his thumb softly also makes Baekhyun himself biting his lower lips before he pulled his thumb that obviously got wet with her saliva, dragged it back past her lips, her chin, her neck ever so slowly. Her chest rising up and down in anticipation as he stopped just on her perky nipple. He moved his thumb in circles, purposely teasing her with barely any pressure and tenderness in the same place.

His actions successfully caused her heart pumping so much blood at the same time. She didn't mind if Baekhyun wants the love making tonight but Jori is currently in a mood to tease the man so she caught his hand, then pushed him away against his chest. Her feet joined to kick his body caused him to fall into the mattress beside her.

While holding her laugh, she gets up from the bed and screams, "You're a pervert!" But her scream turned into a loud yelp when Baekhyun caught her by her shirt from behind. Pulling her harshly to fall again into his embrace.

He was fast to bring his hand sneaking under her shirt. Cupping her breasts and lightly squeezes it in a teasing manner. Jori couldn't help but laughed. Trying to escape from his arms as he attacked her with a neck kisses as well. "Stop groping my boobs!"

"Shut up you smack my dick earlier" Said Baekhyun in between his laugh. At the end, the man hopes that he just wants to always live on the happy side. He just prayed that her smile would never come off her lips again, he just prayed that he would never see her suffer again.

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littlevillageidiot64 · 16 days ago

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OUR DARING YEARS 1. Servicemen: you are a volunteer serving Humanity faithfully and with honor. 2. Every Servicemen is your comrade in Service, irrespective of their nationality, race, sexual orientation or creed. You will demonstrate this by an unwavering and straightforward solidarity which must always bind together members of the same family. 3. Respectful of the UNSF's traditions, honoring your superiors, self-discipline and comradeship are your strength, resilience and loyalty your virtues. 4. Proud of your status as a Servicemen, you will display this pride, by your turnout, always impeccable, your behavior, ever worthy, though modest, your living quarters, always tidy. 5. For the combatants and comrade in arms, you will act without relish of your tasks, or hatred; you will respect the vanquished enemy and will never abandon neither your wounded nor your dead, nor will you under any circumstances surrender your arms. 6. Belongings are shared by all. Supply yourself according to your needs. 7. You will be judged by a single criteria: do you contribute? If not, we'll make one. - UNSF, CODE OF HONOR CHAPTER 1:

Anna took the realization in something.... unusual. It is quite common to head for the bridge of the ship and even though she was an officer she felt she'd been lead in the wrong direction. It wasn't that she was given less info than usual since it was for security purposes, but it was the first time she wasn't handed any information at all, and she could see she was seriously out of place amongst the fold even within rank. She knew this was more than merely a get together for army officers; navy and air corps top brass for the siege whom waited, too, glittering with seniority along with the suits, the intelligence staff, the CN and political advisors. This was a mere gathering of the top circle, but in terms of sheer authority, this was a clear summit by all accounts. It'd only been two months and still progress with The Division wasn't anymore faster than before. Wether High Command would admit it to not, this might put the UNSF (United Nations Space Force) to the test. One could know eighty ways to kill people under their care and still wouldn't get anywhere.

Her expressions were risen within seconds, "Marcus!" Bowman jumped back a bit as he jerked his head towards the marine captain but became nearly cradled by her broad arms giving a hug that felt more like pinching a lump as the navy officer yelled as if his chest cavity had cracked. Anna mainly smiled, "Oh I have missed you so much!" she said almost sounding like she's squeezing his lungs out. Jacob stood close to her saying, "Captain, stop unintentionally murdering the staff." Her eyes showed off their marble brown colors once more with Anna carefully placing Bowman down, "My mistake." she said. Bowman just chuckled yet coughed a tad, "N..no no, that was my fault, honestly, I should've kept my guard up." "Frankly, I didn't even hear her come.” Admiral Tsoko stated. Standing at seven three for a Galactic Marine compared to Anna’s own height of seven two, Jacob still somehow managed to hardly stand out among the crowd of the room, and in their time together, Anna couldn’t recall a single occasion on which Jacob’s uniform was too tight or too loose. Despite equally such a presence as her, most stared at Anna more so given she was all muscle in a military issued uniform that acted and sounded friendly yet held the aura of a woman who wasn’t afraid to a swing a punch or take one. She looked harder than most of everyone in the room; a room of mere cardboards encasing around mountain of muscle. Anna noticed Marshal Commander Grame in one of the blue leather chairs, chatting to Naomi as if the two knew the other for a good ten years since OCS. Courtney would have found all of this too cozy to her liking. Anna could have brought her along but both she and Jacob hardly thought alike. When push came to shove, Courtney was prepared to kill a world to save at least some of it.

Jacob, Anna suspected, might not have been the same. Its not Anna didn't trust Courtney. In fact, she envied her; affected by grief, yet self contained, and who is satisfied by making broken things work. However if she had her way she'd retire her for her sake and health. Lick each other's wounds if she want. It was like she had a friend who was a firefighter but got divorce tomorrow and then started running head first into burning buildings. Are they saving lives? Yes. Should you probably give them a therapist or go hang out? Definitely.

She eyed at Naomi another moment longer. Her skin was dark brown in tone with a slim jawline, high cheekbones and a somewhat round but tapered, pointed chin. Puckered scars ran across her right cheek and through her lip as well as a thin nose shaped into a prominent bridge with a downward slope. Her hair was cropped and blonde with ocean blue, wide set, sullen eyes. She had a slim figure that was equally as robust; high, round, youthful breasts; narrow shoulders; small waist; wide hips and thighs. The clothing she wore was typical BCA attire: light blue tunic, light blue trousers with a white undershirt and a black tie. Two gold oak leaves on the collars of the undershirt. Gold cuff links. White gloves. Black, dress shoes, and epaulettes with their emblem on a dark blue arm band at the bicep region of the left sleeve, which was a pure white five pointed star with white wings stabling it that have rectangular like feathers. She was ten years her senior yet age hardly effected her form and stability. Even in the many photos and pictures she found of her she looked exactly as she had seventy five years before.

Surprisingly this was probably a first among a few times she saw her interacting with anyone she knew or respected. Anytime any of the more lower runts spoke to her she kept the talks short and at others a knowing stare and a nod with several, “Uh-huh” at rare moments of self contained silence, as if she was conserving energy for more relevant issues. Even in friendly conversation despite always being temporary she was polite firstly yet gave the impression that part of her was holding back, secretive, withdrawn, watching, judging, willfully impossible to read or know yet still respected by Servicemen because she didn’t waste their time but also hated by others given she could trap them easily through such words. She would call her having little doubts but that’s a strong word to say given their agents were good at sowing seeds of doubt. It was their job. They probably didn’t even know they were doing it, not even the likable sort. They were from an organization that is a unique phenomenon of this century. Having no true counterpart, either in history or the contemporary existence of Human Space, it cannot be fully comprehended through analogy with other organizations, or other adequately defined by human terminology.

It helped that they were really careful in controlling their public persona. Stories about the BCA as the UNSF's cutting edge science agency appear regularly in the press, while the bulk of their more consequential and sometimes more authoritarian programs go largely unreported. In fact, alot that's more reported is towards health and wellness even though their stated mission is to be an intelligence agency. The aversion to risk was perhaps the single greatest discrepancy between the BCA and other branches. They were about taking chances. Its officers and operatives were trained to act as the Chairman’s hidden hand. Intelligence is a secret action from them that aims at understanding or changing what goes on abroad across Human Space. A nation that wants to project its power beyond its borders needs to see over the horizon, to know what is coming, to prevent attacks against its people. It must anticipate surprise. Without a strong, smart, sharp intelligence service, politicians and generals alike can become blind and crippled.

In its near century long history, the BCA has never allowed the UNSF to be taken scientific surprised. They make the future happen. Industry, public health, society, culture all transform because technology that the BCA pioneers. A revolution is not a revolution unless it comes with an element of surprise. They are like spiders, exquisitely sensitive to any vibration in their webs, ready to pounce on problems and efficiently dispose of them. They are constantly analyzing all changing inputs and factors, making countless quick small judgments and decisions, then passing them on to the crew and the ground team. It’s like being coach, quarterback, water boy and cheerleader, all in one. Everyone affected by the actions of the UNSF is affected by the BCA. Given their reputation, how they show themselves personally, they somehow manage to have zero insecurities when they should have alot. In fact, so self assured that there's nothing that would deter them from feeling good about themselves.

She noticed the two separating. She walked to Naomi holding a statesmanlike half smile. Most thought it was probably more for the benefit of her local audience than really for Jacob. Anna was suddenly surprised at the lack of reek of coffee smell. Probably people trying not to invite questions when they all returned back to the Center. Servicemen never forgot what the real thing smelled like. The fresh pot of coffee in the office, genuine coffee, not some ingenious but completely unconvincing cereal concoction.

The few she knew tried resisting it. Servicemen were often uncomfortable enjoying what the average Colonist no longer could whether through poverty, shortage, or both. Some Candidates who first joined often held the sense of entitlement, that subconscious expectation that their exceptional jobs demanded exceptional rights, but was slowly evaporated year upon year. With privilege goes responsibility. To be a Servicemen is to belong to a justice minded community of perennial social outcasts. Even though there’s bad Servicemen there’s no really bad Servicemen.

Naomi moved her eyes to Anna’s direction before turning her whole head mainly blinking at her. “Greetings to you. I’m sorry about my actions before.” Anna said. Naomi remand expressionless. “It’s nothing.” She said, humorously with a smile. She held out her hand. Anna reached out and grasped it firmly, unhesitating now. As they shook hands Naomi’s had all but disappeared into Anna’s, however was quite surprised of the aged agent’s firm and strong grip. Anna got a chuckle out of this. She kept her smile for sometime, as if it proved a problem for her, which grew affectish on Naomi as well with the help that Anna’s voice was mellow like a hum. Elegance, deep pitched and strength. Comfortable to hear and sounds clear and uncluttered. Her vocal cords sounding completely relaxed. Warm, and buttery to the ear with her words sounding slow yet never treating her like a child almost as if she mastered her impulses. Her strong grip and stance had also told Naomi many things. There was no pose, no pretense, no attempt to establish anything for the record.... She's natural, alive, alert, spirited, and give the impression of having intense amount of unloosened energy, both intellectual and physical. She held the impression that here was a woman who was realistic, practical and disciplined. She has the power of drawing the hearts of people towards her as a magnet attracts the bit of metal. She merely has to smile at you and you trust her at once.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance finally. Your reputation precedes you.” Anna continued. “Not all of it is good, Captain.” Naomi replied with sudden melancholy and sorrow in her eyes. “If rules and customs are unbroken, then they are meaningless, either brittle from misuse, or so strong and overwhelming that you remain clueless to the truth of what it is they were intended to protect…” “On that we can agree fully.” “I apologize if I’m saying you’re soulless in your approach.” Naomi chuckled, yet composed. “Oh I have my moral quandaries of my own. It’s just they don’t matter in the grand scheme of affairs. You just concentrate on killing soldiers and the uneducated for the rest of us.”

“Hey, you, blondie!! Yeah I’m talking to you!!” Anna turned to her right still holding her smile but the enthusiasm within her was palpable. She lightly ran over as she and Grame widen one another’s arms. He himself had also hold a strong smile. “What of it, huh? You don’t call me, nor wrote to me for a good two months and expect me to be quiet the whole war?” “Jon, you magnificent son if a bitch!!” She squeezed tightly and he managed greatly against her tough muscles and iron dense bones. Anna felt she was hugging an alien or clone for all she knew. He hugged identically to her except he was… different. He spoke a little differently. He smelled subtlety different. Wasn’t so use to seeing him out of armor either. “Been too long, Man.” Grame then suddenly pulled from her but kept his hands at her shoulders, looking bewildered like she had a dick latched on her forehead. “Anna, its been twenty years now. Wasn’t that long ago.” She rolled her eyes. “Just trying to make you feel better, Hun.” “Only thing I miss is you being alot smaller than you are now. Then again, everyone’s small compared to you, so it evens out.”

He noticed Naomi keeping a short but fixed stare. “Don’t get your gown all tucked in.” He humored. “There’s no regs that states an officer can’t be friends with their subordinates. I’ve never been easy on Barkwood, but she did the job. That’s worth enough for the two of us.” She gave a carefully blank stare. “Message received, Marshal Commander.” she said, mellowly. “Now I just feel good having a wall at my back.” “I noticed you haven’t thought to speak with the Task Commander and her subjects in this summit.” Anna said. “They can wait a while,” Naomi said. “This summit is a show, and this is clear pomp, and this is, essentially, a waste of time. But Monroe is the Chairman. His authority needs to be reinforced.”

Anna kept examining Grame. His uniform was what had been worn by the greater majority of the room: a collared light blue shirt, a dark tie, slightly loosened at the neck, and a deep blue coat. He had dark brown skin with a strong but tapered jawline. His lips were full but thin with a typical short black hair and had a thin bridge nose with a flat base.

Not much has changed about him physically but she took a chuckle that he’s kept that sharp, slender, stout mustache for years, looking as if it might have been finely penciled in. Might as well been his symbol much like his utility cap because once he shaves it off people are gonna freak out at such a sudden change. She was still weirded out at him not wearing armor. It was like he was from another world she never knew of. Not wearing his armor and service rifle made him appear off balance, yet still noticed the gravity of warfare latching to him even if he lost his combat suit. Maybe, she thought, he was showing what he was packing given there’s a chance they might tell others for certain arrangements. He already looked naked. Without armor, Servicemen felt exposed somehow, like they had left their quarters without their skin. They had grown use to how they weigh and felt. It was like missing an arm that they knew existed at some point in their lives or a common comfort item. It was very jarring to see. Almost no one outside the organization saw how they looked underneath since nobody wanted to risk inhaling tougher amounts of oxygens on other planets or expose themselves to the elements and catching some alien disease or die to a new form of cancer from the mountains of heavy sun activity due to a lack of melanin. Apart from the heavily publicized display of massed UNSF battalions boarding carriers at the military staging area a few months ago, the vast majority of both the human public and alien themselves held no contact with them whatsoever. And never without their helmets mainly due to both security and personal reasons. Armor itself does not make a Servicemen. The armor is simply a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.

Grame’s eyes wandered and noticed Jacob from afar. “I take it this is she?” “Yes. She’s been quite the extra hand the day we met.” “Hmm…” He walked on over with Jacob standing at attentions like always. "What’s your name, Marine?” “Jacob Jablonsky, Marhsal Commander.” “I take it you know who I am?” “Marshal Commander Jonathan Roland Grame. Former CO, 92nd Platoon.” Jacob always had a prodigious memory, Anna thought. “Fourth Battalion, 11th Core Regiment, of the First Infantry Division.” “I’m not planning to buy you dinner, Marine.” “I make a point to remember all officers my captain regards as exceptional.” Grame made no reply. That was the point at which he did not like her. It never took him long to make up his mind. She was too formal to be a Servicemen. She treats knowledge so official like she just read it off of a briefing file. There was something robotic about her word usage he could not stand. But speaking a certain way didn’t matter in the scheme of things. “Well, take good care of that armor, Jacob. It’ll come out of your pay if you don’t.”

Tychus walked into the same room, though Anna had almost mistaken him for a businessmen by any other measure given. He noticed her from afar. If Anna had passed him in the streets of a colonial planet, she would have thought he was just a clerk, a regular, intelligent man who had little importance in the moment. But there was that look: absolute steel, absolute honesty, and a refusal to give in to his fears. He was scared. Anna could see it.

There also came a Hiyon (Hai-yen). She was average in height and broad shoulder, holding heavy arms for her wide frame. Her Hiyon fur was orange with dark black stripes and her eyes held an orange glow to that of a morning star that laid beneath her sharp, narrow, sullen expression with darker shades of it in the form of pupils. They were oval in shape yet laid sideways, appearing very egg like and sat at the front of her head. Her skull was square like with no human like hair but only white fur at the jaw, chin, and cheek regions. Her armor was of peculiar plating that shelter her whole figure with no clear insignia to be seen or understood as a matter of fact. Her name was strangely written in human text so most called her Masuku for convenience sake. It was also quite firm for a body suit, as if wrapped tightly around her. Human fashion seemed airy and loose when compared. They had given humanity more specifically the UNSF a considerably long tome on their species but general enough to where it is digestible and non-classfied. They had explained they were eyeing on Human space for a good long while with their philologists taking years to understand the human language. Difference was the words they used in the documents were clean, consist in both the grammar usage and punctuation almost second nature to them and uncanny when reading it back to command, despite missing key human elements when choosing their words.

Anna didn't have much to say on their culture through those pages beyond stating what others said before her. They hold a strong martial culture yet have no military state. They're very collective but individuality and self reflection were as sacred if not more so than what humanity had. Their proverb said it all: ‘it can always be better’. Your great, great grandfamily needed to be better than their parents; their great grandfamily needed to be better than their great, great grandfamily, and their children's children needed to be better than all of their forebearers before them and education lied at the center of it for it is considered as a practical measure of success and a way to escape poverty. They make great sacrifices to offer their children quality education. It is not just for themselves but for their culture as well that the Hiyon value education. They study because they want their decisions to be consistent with answers to questions of meaning, of life mission, of facing mortality and of ultimate truths: Who are we? Their study will help put their decisions into this deeper context. They value thinking as a whole. Theirs is a tradition of people who think, question and explore. Masuku didn’t much eye anyone in particular. In fact, she did not looked at anyone but kept to herself with silent confidence in her movements. Nobody wanted to be near her and yet she was indifferent to such a social gathering.

The hatch doors quickly shut tightly as the Task Commander, Kelty Housden, ordered it through simple gestures. Her hair was dark brown that was crop cut in design and had small, hazel colored eyes. She had thin but full lips and a flat base nose. Her jaw was round nearly circular with plump cheeks and had dark skin. She spoke as everyone got into their respectful seats, “We’re soundproofed in here, ladies and gentlemen, and soon you’ll understand why we need to be. This is now a strictly need to know basis so unless you have plans I’d suggest being quiet for the foreseeable hour. Michaelson, hit the lights.” The display panel flooded with light as a pixelated sphere formed through simple white dot formation with a sophisticated satellite weapon appearing alongside. “Tychus…” Housden said, extending out her hand. The room fell completely silent, no fidgeting, no coughing, as she let the computerize images sink in. Anna felt… dejected to say the least at what was to be unfolded.

Even as they had their proper sit down amidst a polished island of tables that gleamed beyond in a windowless room, Grame manage to have found himself thinking almost enviously of the Systems War as it came to be called. Felt like yesterday since it paused. A very different time when rules seemed easy to remember: human versus human, motives known, limitations understood, yet somewhere within the Sovereign Colonies there was always a system or sector that could be crossed to find planetary society seem normal.

He’d hope the colonial front at least managed just enough to partake in this odd endeavor. It would have mocked every sacrifice of the past nine hundred sixteen years. He was at least relieved that Anna had been involved this day. She had a voice in this, too, dammnit; she understood the cultural differences between the Servicemen and these new batch of civilians. Whether they’d responded to her or not, he trusted her, to the point where if he needed something to get fixed and gave it to her, he knew it would get done. She got the job done everytime. Those like sergeant Courtney Halls, however, almost every time.

Anna knows what she’s doing, he thought. She’ll be a steadying influence. Stick Halls with another unit, and she’ll probably be busy picking fights with them. Lucky for her she didn’t need to love or be loyal to humanity to function in this organization. He chuckled to himself. Five break ups, outright human civil war, and a total of seventy years of Service and this was what sparked concern from him.

Tychus spoke in grave detail in the many specific areas of which such a device needed. Many sat in wonder knowing what could be said of this event. Housden kept herself still if to listen to his comments, thinking over his words carefully. She could be engrossed in something but that slight tilt of the head said she was taking in everything within earshot.

This fight to her presented many ways to make people suffer, to force them to do unspeakable things. Though guilt rangled her thoughts, she focused on her duty first. At this point, it'd become a magnetic north on her moral compass. She didn't wish the role of Task Commander but she had the bones to pull it off. Fewer than two percent of all Naval Servicemen were selected for this role. That said enough. They were counting on her specifically, and in times like these, it is and always is a time honored tradition to develop a plan for all Servicemen for it is their duty to view in the context of their character and the impact they had on others. Order, structure, and control is a feature not a bug. Was this the correct call? No, but, in reality, the choice never mattered if it was good or bad but making a decision and sticking with the consequences did. Servicemen take the initiative and make decisions, regardless of wether things are going well.

Tychus spoke in her direction, “Task Commander, pending your questions, this concludes my brief.” Housden took a breath. She knew the risk here: they make a wrong step and the tenuous threads of civilization unravel. "In your considered opinion?" She asked, looking towards Anna. Anna paused herself to think carefully before replying. She didn't wish to tar her Task Commander's institution with verdicts of incompetence, yet knew her well enough in knowing how little good sugaring the pill would be.

"You had mention before the orbit radius and that it would hold consecutive strikes and be reduced. How would this factored in? Never mind the significant reach to make such a device penetrate the surface with immense power, how would you refuel with efficient effort?" Tychus extended the screen with much needed data across the pixelated screen by a simple button press. "From our current estimates, we would require at least one hundred seventy thousand cubic meter tank. Mind you, this is only taken into account a fuel reservoir filled with crude oil and remained efficient at our best estimates into converting a basic plasma beam.” “Then how would you handle this process. At that rate, you would only have about ten seconds worth of power.” “I do not know the physics, but I do grasp the fact that the satellite platforms would cover the entire planet, which what is required of such an effort." Housden chimed between. "What are you going to target? Is that what you need me for, to advise on blast coverage?" Grame cut in. "This is all well and good, Tychus, but even so we'll be feeding their political affairs. With something like this, it won't be just the enemy that will die, not all, but this will be seen as asset denial than a strictly won victory."

"What will the civilian population have left among the rumble?" The political advisory asked. "All you'll have left is a panic population with no borders left to defend." “Mining will still be possible after the worst of the radiation subsides. Its agricultural possibilities would be poor at any rate, however what they’ll offer in return will survive the worst we can do on the surface.” Thychus replied. “You see no other value to this world?” Anna asked. “Our mission here is one of elimination. Therefore, the most efficient way of ending the enemy while minimizing our expenditure of lives is through such weaponry.” He replied again. He soon continued on.

"So far, the only major centers we'll have then is the west and south regions of the planet. That's where we'll regroup. The entire network would be deployed in stages; we'll need a priority list. We feed in the coordinates for the first batch of targets, activate the lasers, then feed in the next batch, move the orbital platforms, and so on." "We'd need nine billion joules per second at the rate you want this, Tychus." Tsoko spoke. "What would be refueling this device? You’d need to charge it for about twenty seconds that it is used let alone be refilled once per month. We'll need twice the crew, twice the supplies needed for the extra wandering pinatas you're asking for to protect it from ground forces below. My Servicemen would not stand for this.” “You have fortified the planet and planetside for such efforts, Admiral. You have enough ships and battery systems to fend off open hostile approach. They will be restrained enough to cover the entire surface of this world without signifcant weakness of early warning systems. Even if we speak small scale attacks do not assume you can keep them out all at once. A planet is a vast terrain. Assume the worst, and make sure you notice their footprints when they do attack.”

“How long would we give the civilian populist?” The political advisory asked. “Three days top.” Thychus replied. “Three days?” They asked. “The longer the delay, the higher the chance of the enemy working out what’s going on.” “And the units?” Grame asked. “At that rate we can’t expect them to make it with the refugees. Giving the civilian populist more than three days is one thing, withdrawing units are just going to clue in the enemy even more effectively.” Thychus replied.

Grame shoved his hands under his fold arms. Anna knew that fixed position of his. Housden did, too, because she watched his lips compressed into an even tighter line. Grame was going to toss the yellow flag. “Task Commander," he said finally, keeping his voice steady, "after you go with this, you'll need every Servicemen you have, and you'll need them on your side. Think about how you'll command even a Servicemen's loyalty once they know you'll waste them in their millions of thousands like that." He paused for a breath for a moment. “Dying in combat is expected, but this is way beyond the pale. This is within our control." Thychus turned to his direction. “I understand that an officer must keep their subordinates safe under altruistic care, but you make them sound really damning to suggest they aren’t loyal, Marshal Commander.” “They are reasonable to a point, Thychus, but they are a stubborn and stiff necked people, and they will only tolerate so much.” “But they are aware enough that this isn’t the first time intelligence was gathered to pull these feats. They knew the risks going in. They’ve given everything they have.” “That’s why we shouldn’t waste away our own numbers at the same time. Even if every country was burnt like brisket on holiday even, we need an army to crush what’s left when the smoke clears.” “With respect we've lost over 78,000 Servicemen in one region alone. With this device, it will make an even footing." Thychus said. "And we've killed 800,000 people on one planet, 200,000 being civilians back home.” Anna replied back.

Housden knew her answer on this, but spoke to Anna directly. “Captain Barkwood. You were on the surface. What are your views?” By all accounts, Anna stood out among everyone in terms of rank and she knows more than what's let on aboard the Dreaded Prosecutor, and she's just been required to present the staff with awkward analysis.

Anna gave her comments. “Respectfully, I disagree with such a dire conclusion. The value is more than just industrial. There is an important culture there. Its memory should be preserved.” “That culture failed.” Thychus replied. “Maybe it did.” Anna said. “Does that mean it should be expunged from our collective memory? Do we have nothing to learn from it? Does that mean its stand against The Division does not deserve to be commemorated? That there were no battles worthy of song?” “It does not.” “No it doesn’t. There is no logical value in the decorations we give to our vessels. They contribute nothing. What they contribute in between is inestimable. The records of the pacifications. The celebrations of victories. The memorialization of the fallen. The analyses of the recovered cultures. This is the living tissue to all civilizations. Even the dead civilizations are part of the human story. They have a life beyond the dust of their citizens.” Anna ended her talk. Housden paused but knew her answer clearly. “The Division may hold this planet. We will take it back, but we will not lose its heritage in the process.” Anna smiled towards him “I know you understand.” She said. “So I do.” He replied.

After the last words were said, everyone stood up abruptly, shook hands, and laughed about something in an earlier story, as if nothing just transpired, and never focused on the pain and sorrow. Even when they recounted any of sort, there was generally a sense of ease and softness in their words for those who fought hard and died gloriously. There was no complaint given. No blame of others for their misfortune. They worked hard and expected the same from their junior officers. Patriotism was worn on their sleeves, and while they weren’t naive about the UNSF’s faults, they knew that no other part of human space valued their service and sacrifice as much as the UNSF. Housden walked towards and shook Anna’s hand. “Its nice to meet you in person, Captain Barkwood.” “You too, Task Commander, but I’m sure you have more pressing matters than this summit and will be making your leave.” Housden smiled, “This better not be the only reason. I came all the way back here.” She paused for a brief moment and eyed each other carefully, “Off the record, Barkwood, there's not one major decision you've made that I would've done differently. Haven't seen you done anything dumb. I've never known you ever get drunk but you're fine as far as I'm concerned. Not surprising. Don't get a swell head about that. Just fine.” Anna smiled at her comment. “Commander,” she said, “I am merely the servant of the big think who seeks, as we do, to better the lives of us all.” Housden simply smiled at her. “Anyway, I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.” “Like not boiling a planet?” Housden chuckled as she walked on formally. “Yeah, something like that.”

Thychus and Anna soon bumped into one another. He gave her a smile, no teeth shown, just a curl of lips. “I know of you.” He said. “I have absolute faith in you, Captain Barkwood. We would never have survived this far without your leadership.” “You don’t seem too pleased for someone who almost given us an opportunity to end the battle.” “It would end the conflict here. I can’t speak for…. The future after this.” “You expecting the worst?” “No, just academics.” “I mean you know things are bad when everyone is looking at me. Ugh.” They both chuckled. “In all serious, you okay. How do you feel?” "Numbness.” He answered. “What else should I feel? I just almost ordered to wipe out possibly a millennia of culture." He looked depressed. Worried even that Servicemen back home would be furious. There was no replacement to culture. The mere fact he almost erased someone's unique cultural heritage and treasures appalled him greatly even now. One day, he knew, he would look back at this event and feel appalled that he almost destroyed something precious and irreplaceable. Human lives came first, yes, but like all Servicemen before him would mourn for the loss of knowledge all the same. He looked at her directly as he smirked again.

“Sorry just… this has been a difficult mission… for all of us.” His voice was strained to be casual, but clearly wasn’t. He blinked, nothing more. For a second their eyes locked and Anna couldn’t read his expression anymore. He looked old and tired and beaten. He looked like he wanted out of it. He didn’t buckle at once nor broke the illusion expressed on his face, but was emotionally exhausted. That concern Anna. Maybe he really cracked up. Traumatic stress was waiting for all of us sooner or later. This was a strange sight of sights. Not typical Servicemen behavior. Generally, they would give an embarrassing nod, because moments such as this had that exact tone for a majority of Servicemen existence: embarrassment. There was no anger or disgust, just embarrassment. These were exceptional times. A concern to be had. Grame had gone mentally alert at this and commanded two Servicemen by eyesight in carefully escorting the now emotionally wounded man, and with this Anna knew a sergeant was to be assign shifts to keep a close eye and partly to ensure witnesses each to stay up and watch him as he slept. This wasn’t exactly a Red Cross society but a Servicemen wasn’t going to leave this crisis to be festered alone.

#scifi #military

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sun-floweroo · 11 months ago

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I’ve been thinking about the Black Butler grim reapers for a while. (And yes, I am guilty of having a reaper OC. …her name is Marion and she’s my baby. Thanks for asking.) so…here are some headcanons including her and the reapers.

tw//suicide

Pt.1

- Ever since their deaths, Undertaker and Othello were best friends. The former would indulge in the latter’s experiments, lamenting on their deaths while Othello tinkered away. But their relationship would not last long.

-The two soon graduate, and Othello retreats to his wormhole of a lab, shunned from daylight while Undertaker mechanically perfects each mission. He visits his old friend every once in a while, taking and returning jabs on their thick rimmed glasses as they converse over tea and dog biscuits.

- Othello grows concerned for his friend, who had recently taken a turn for the worse. He had become another of the Retrieval Division’s soulless workers. Undertaker would wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, and fall asleep, just to repeat the cycle again the next day.

- One day, Undertaker goes missing, and Othello panics. He didn’t believe in death after dying itself, but he had heard drunken tales of disappearing off the surface of the earth forever.

- When Undertaker returns after weeks of absence, he is with a young girl, a noose mark around her neck and green eyes bright and chartreuse: A reaperling, as many seniors called it.

- the girl calls herself Marion, Marion Lucy Haskell. A noble, many think, glancing at her laced cape and pressed dress. A noble fallen from grace, but a noble nonetheless.

- the girl clings to Undertaker, pale and timid and all too weak. Othello thinks she’ll be executed, or sent to management for meager work, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Undertaker has already taken a liking to her, after all.

- Undertaker is cruel, Othello thinks. To view such an innocent child as an amusement, as a mere puppy. He hopes she thrives while it lasts.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #black butler headcanons #headcanon #undertaker #black butler undertaker #Adrian crevan #othello #black butler othello #OC #black butler OC

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kuroharukawada · 1 year ago

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The 2,000,000 subscribers special: second watch thoughts

Truth be told, when I first watched the new subscriber milestone special I did it pretty mindlessly, because it was friday and I was tired after the uni week. This is clearly not the way one should watch Jacknjellify videos so I rewatched it now, this time with a clear mind, since this short is actually full of pretty juicy Number Playground lore

///

While it's most likely true that The Number Playground Chronicles! are most likely non-canon in the modern XFOHV videos (cause the book is over a decade old as of this year), it's interesting to see that both Divide and the mythical division symbol are held in a similar regard of being not exactly popular to say the least (the reason why other algebraliens hate Divide most likely also comes from being afraid of their power)

We see that Two is fully willing to help Fourteen get out of the jailcage, either not knowing about his background or believing that everything that's being said about him is just rumors ("Well you seem nice. How'd you get locked up?"). This supports my personal headcanon that Two being one of the smallest in terms of value also makes them noticably younger than Four and others. They're naive and somewhat guilliable and have great respect for their seniors. It's only now they realize that Fourteen isn't as cool as they always thought, which causes them to become disappointed in one of the people they possibly looked up to growing up

Another detail that caught me is Fifteen's reaction to seeing who exactly she just burned with the flamethrower. A look of disbelief, shock, maybe even realization that she just did something horrible to someone she actually likes. Since the color change of the integers that went through a mathematical operation usually goes unnoticed (Nine and Six were able to pass as Fifteen almost flawlessly dispite looking nothing like her) and only their value actually matters to the beholders, it means that Fifteen had such a reaction to Seven rather than Fourteen because that's who she saw in the moment. Maybe Seven was one of the few integers Fifteen was friends with before her voluntary isolation and despite she has long cut contacts with them she still sees them as a best friend and gets terrified after seeing them getting hurt because of her (even if it wasn't real Seven, the impact is still there)

"Hi, friends! I know you all falsely accused me and threw me into a cage, but I don't hold grudges!"

That line made me melt. Seven might be self-centered and an emo but they're still so sweet, I love them so much (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

And as a bonus thought, sometime in the summer of this year I came up with an integer OC named Twelve and they were yellow colored as well, just like Twelve in the credits! I was like "Wow, they read my mind for this one" when I saw them. Pretty funny coincidence

#xfohv #headcanon thoughts

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vxnillite · 1 year ago

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is this hurt/comfort

maybe, but instead of a ship, it's my oc and their mother figure at work :D

i forgot how i format this stuff

Characters: Noah ©️ me, Nina Cortez ©️ @smoldoddles (the bestie ever)

Word count: 2436

set just a few days after the RDA left Pandora in the first movie when, I assume, those who stayed continued operation of Hell's Gate

Breakfast. Check.

Coffee. Check.

Daily avatar exercise. Check.

Morning routine check on the staff. Not quite.

Nina, back in her human self for now, breezed through the SciOps lab doors and made a beeline to one particular desk station. All of the owner's documents were cleanly and perfectly stacked, their pens neat in the pencil holder, but the thinnest layer of dust had made the desk its new home. Nina held the overlooking lamp and frowned when she felt it. Cold.

"Where's Noah," she asked, looking forlorn at the abandoned desk.

The scientist stationed opposite Noah looked up from her work. Usually quite cheerful, Angela answered without her signature smile to light her face up. "They haven't come in today, Dr. Cortez." She sighed heavily. "They didn't come back yesterday after lunch."

Nina recalled breakfast that morning. She'd reported to the mess hall a lot earlier than usual, but only because she woke up rather early that day. She, then, finished breakfast before the first wave of staff came in for their own, and since Noah was usually a late riser, Nina didn't expect to catch them at the mess hall. The decision to go on about her morning like usual suddenly felt like a crime, guilt and disappointment in herself crashing down on the doctor. The only relief she could afford herself at the moment was a quiet sigh.

Angela must've heard it though. "Well, it's not like we're keeping up attendance anymore, right, Doc?" She tilted her head as she cracked a half-smile. "I heard Noah fought alongside the Na'vi in the fight 3 days ago. They're probably just tired from that."

Nina thought it was a good point. She straightened herself up and said, "I'll go check on them."

"I hope they're just resting. Surely, they'd need as much of it as they can get." Angela replied. Her eyes fell on the empty desk across her before meeting Nina's gaze again. "Tell them I miss my desk neighbor, yeah?"

Nina smiled and nodded at her before turning on her heel and heading back out the door. Her route now would be short, just a few turns then down the elevator to the level below the labs where the SciOps living hubs stood, now far less occupied with just about half of the residents left. While that meant there was a shorter waiting time at the showers, the remaining staff of Hell's Gate were now at the phase of figuring out how to run the facility with less than half of its people left. As someone who was higher than most on the political hierarchy, Nina had become a supervising figure for the continuing operation of Hell's Gate, not just of the SciOps division. Part of the reason was her seniority, but another was her military experience, which made Nina the ideal person to also direct the SecOps division in the Colonel's absence. In turn, though, her schedule was almost still as packed as it was before the rebellion.

But Nina had finished her rounds on both SecOps and SciOps, and everything was more or less running perfectly. So now, Nina was going to attend to a more personal task, one that she was taking on as both Noah's senior and, more importantly, as their friend.

Nina knocked twice on the door of Noah's quarters. "Noah, it's Nina," she called out. "May I come in?"

No answer.

Fearing that history was repeating itself—this was only the 2nd time ever that Noah had disappeared from the labs—Nina pulled out a security card and tapped it on the scanner next to the door. The light changed from red to green.

That security card was such a handy tool that the security staff gave to her after her informal promotion to SecOps supervisor. Nina had used it to sneak into the pantry for a midnight snack once already. But while her use of it now was rather invasive at surface-level, Nina knew better than to let Noah lock themselves in their room to wallow and rot in self-pity, even in spite of recent events.

The last time Noah had shut the world out, it was because theirs had shattered. Now, it would seem that it was happening all over again.

But much to her surprise, then worry, Noah was not in their quarters. The bed was made but cold. It didn't seem like Noah had just gotten up and left for the showers or something. Nina surveyed the room more closely. A black oversized jacket, Kevin's, was hung over the desk chair. Noah's data pad was missing from its charging pod. Their boots were missing, too.

'Where could they be,' Nina thought worriedly. As she surveyed the room one last time, she briefly wondered if Noah had ever even been in this room since the rebellion. It seemed as such.

If that was the case, then waiting around for Noah to come back wasn't the best thing to do right now, Nina decided. So she left the room. The door somberly closed behind her. For a moment, she stood in the middle of the empty hallway in quiet thought.

While doing her rounds that morning, Nina had asked every person she could if they had seen Noah. Alas, her little investigation had been fruitless. More "I think I saw"s than "Yeah, they were here"s than she would have liked. Their own living quarters had been the last on her mental checklist, but now she was thinking they could be hiding out somewhere else. But Kevin's old room had long been occupied by a different person, so Noah couldn't have gone there.

So maybe... it was a different soldier's room they were in.

Nina made a pitstop to the records office, where she found just one guy working on his computer. He was the only one from his department to defect.

"I'm a little busy right now," Alex hollered without looking up from the monitor. He seemed more stressed than mean, but there was a sprinkle of the latter.

Nina kept walking toward him. "Alex, I need a favor."

Alex stopped immediately. "Dr. Cortez," he stammered as he swiveled his chair in his direction, a crooked smile forced on his face, "I didn't know it was you. Um, what can I do for you?"

"Room assignments, you've got them, right?"

"Sure do."

"Great. I need Harper Zdinarsk's. SecOps."

Not a second was wasted as Alex pulled up a new window and rapidly typed the name into the search bar. When the results popped up, he read out the needed information, "Harper Zdinarsk. 129 in the SecOps wing."

"Was it ever accessed," Nina asked.

Alex scrolled down to the room access history section. He paled at what he saw. "Opened via DMT 2 days ago." His voice shook the tiniest bit as he added, "But this soldier is dead, one of the casualties from the fight."

Nina hummed. "Was her body found?"

"No, but we assumed she was dead because she wasn't with the people who went back to Earth." Alex swallowed nervously, his trembling hands glued to his desk made Nina pity the poor man. "Doc, are we being haunted?"

"Psh, of course not."

Satisfied with the information she got, Nina began walking back out of the room. Just as she had a foot out of the door, she looked back at Alex, smiling cheekily at the spooked man. "But if you hear something creepy, maybe just log that into the records~"

Nina spared herself a giggle at her own teasing before refocusing herself as she was a few paces down the hall. The SecOps living hubs were just around the corner, and as if Eywa herself had blessed Nina that day, Room 129 was just the 3rd door.

She knocked. "Noah, it's Nina. I'm coming in, okay?"

The steel door hissed open as Nina pocketed her security card. Then, once the door closed behind her, locking out the noise of Hell's Gate, she heard a voice she was sure did not belong to anyone currently in that dark, unlit room.

"Why are you filming me," Z asked, a laughter carrying her words from a distance. "Am I on the observation list today?"

Noah laughed as well, their voice louder. "Yeah, I'm filming a worrywart in her natural habitat, and she's once again worrying about if a blade of grass would strike and poison me. Oh, no," they dragged, "I got stung, ah!"

"Oh, whatever shall I do," Z replied with a playful, exaggerated eye roll. It was weird to see her not locked and loaded with her gun just dismissed to her side.

The camera wobbled as Noah groaned dramatically. "It hurts so bad, oh my god."

In a split-second, Z's carefree expression hardened and she approached Noah. The closer she got to the camera, the clearer the worry was on her features, furrowed brows, a stiff frown, but a contrasting softness in her eyes. "Hey, wait, are you serious right now?"

The camera stopped shaking and Noah responded in a monotone voice, "Nah."

Z clicked her tongue, and Noah laughed again. Nina found herself infected by the cheerfulness of the avatar behind the camera, so did Z, it seemed.

Then, the video ended.

The light was now open. Noah, the one who was sitting on the edge of Z's bed, hovered their finger over the play button. Their data pad laid on their lap, no doubt forcing them into a very uncomfortable position for their neck. Still, they were unmoving apart from the hand tautly fiddling with the hem of their oversized shirt. Stencil-printed letters on the left chest read "SecOps".

Beside them, Nina sat silently. The ache in her chest was growing close to unbearable. The sting in her eyes was demanding relief. But she kept herself together, observing Noah. Instead of the play button, their finger dragged the video track, stopping when the screen showed a clear shot of Z grinning at Noah in the video.

Silence. Unbreaking, unmoving silence as if the world itself had stopped. It would only continue if Noah pushed the play button.

They didn't.

Nina couldn't see Noah's face with all their hair covering them like a blanket, but their head never moved from its position looking directly down at the data pad. They stewed in the quiet for a few more seconds before Nina reached out with a gentle hand. When her hand had barely even grazed their back, Noah grabbed onto Nina, whose mind surged with worry as she held Noah's body, frail and trembling. Yet their hands clenched fistfuls of Nina's coat like they were holding on for dear life. The data pad slid onto the floor, but neither one cared.

Noah crumbled into a state Nina had never seen them in before, crying their beaten, desperate heart out into her shoulder. No words were spoken, then again maybe they couldn't make it past the tears. But Nina felt all that grief, pain, brokenness. Soon enough, Noah's cries were pushing onto Nina's mind images of the people she herself had lost. Her own arms began to tremble, but her hold of Noah did not falter. Rather, she fastened her arms tighter around them and pulled them even deeper into her embrace.

"It's going to be okay, Noah," she said, her voice cracking under her own tears as she rubbed the young doctor's back while fighting back tears of her own. A sniffle escaped, though. "It's going to be okay."

More sobs. Some Noah choked on. Their tears, their mourning, their yearning. It all felt endless.

"Just let it all out."

Noah heaved. Whatever strength they had during the battle was gone. Now, they felt as fragile as a glass ball. The slightest hit would shatter them completely. But they managed a few words, "She's gone, Nina… It's all my fault…"

Nina pressed her cheek on Noah's head, caressing it gently. At that moment, with her eyes closed, she saw a familiar head of ginger hair. The grief almost knocked Nina over like a tidal wave. But she stayed strong for Noah.

"Don't blame yourself. Please." Somehow, it felt as if she was talking to herself.

Noah shook their head, but anything they might've tried to say got caught up in their grief. Nina was all too familiar with how that felt like.

Metal clattered to the floor, interrupting the two as Noah flinched straight. They looked down at the fallen dog tags with a panic in their eyes as they reached down. But Nina saw clearly that they were not Z's tags that had fallen, and she swiped them away with her foot. Noah snapped their neck up at Nina, who shook her head.

"It's not hers."

Noah abruptly looked down on their lap, where Z's tags were, both clean as a whistle.

Then, Nina gently put her hand on Noah's. She smiled gently.

"When did you get them," she asked.

Noah answered slowly, "Before the celebration with the Omaticaya." They hung their head low. "I…snuck back out to the forest. I'm sorry."

Nina hushed their worries down. "Alex said they couldn't find Zdinarsk's…" She cleared her throat and spoke again with a firmer voice, "They couldn't find Zdinarsk."

Noah sniffled, then breathed out shakily. "I buried her." The tears started flooding their cheeks again. "I'm sorry. I didn't—I had to. I couldn't leave her there… I'm—"

"It's fine, Noah." Nina held both of their hands and squeezed them tightly. "I understand, and I promise I won't breathe a word to any soul about it."

"If Mo'at finds out—"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Nina let go of Noah, but only to put Z's tags into their hands. She, then, balled their hands into fists over the metal before raising her hands to part Noah's hair, tucking as much of it behind their ears. In the bleak overhead light, the young scientist looked like a corpse. Nina tried not to frown, but she was only really concerned.

"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

Noah nodded weakly. Nina got up, quickly peeling from the floor the dog tags that had fallen earlier.

Once again, Nina stepped into the noisy hallway. The tags felt like blocks of lead on her conscience. She hoped Noah didn't see who it actually was on them. Briefly, she looked down at her hand. What stared back at her were a cold, lethal demeanor and the eyes of the man who let all hell break loose mere days ago. The eyes of the man she, fretfully, loved.

#avatar oc #avatar james cameron #avatar fanfiction #oc #too lazy to tag #hurt/comfort #angst #have u ever lost the love of ur life #yeah it was kind of noah's fault a bit #nina cortez #she's mother but like in a literal sense

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eodasks · 1 year ago

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OC time

Name: Agent Harlow

Gender: Male

Color scheme: blue with lilac accents

Age: somewhere in his mid 30s

Height: 5'11"

Division: Enhanced Operatives

Title: Senior Agent / Junior Handler (Transition period from agent to handler)

Personality traits: Constantly tired but never seems to sleep, perpetual coffee drinker, sleeps half the day and somehow still gets his work done.

Known around for refusing to just outright state what he means by the various remarks he makes.

Lost an arm while trying to keep Agent Pheonix out of the bomb disposal unit, due to them wanting to see inside to "find out where the bombs go."

Name: Dr Heidrich

Gender: Non-Binary

Color scheme: Orange

Age: Mid-to-late 20s

Height: 5'01"

Division: Scientific

Title: Senior Researcher (Worked under Dr Prism prior to her "disappearance")

Personality traits: Talkative beyond belief (do NOT ask about their current project, they will not shut up for the next 5 hours), kind, relatively polite, hard working

Despite them being so talkative, most agents do not know them, as they spend most of their time experimenting with their newest pet project

Made a replacement arm for Harlow

Occasionally helps out in the infirmary when staff are shorthanded

#ieytask #ieytd #i expect you to die #ieytd fandom #ieytd askblog #agent harlow #dr heidrich

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lboogie1906 · 7 months ago

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General Julius Wesley Becton Jr. (June 29, 1926 - November 28, 2023) was born to Julius and Rose Becton in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. In December 1943, he joined the Army Air Corps Enlisted Reserves. After graduating high school in 1944, he joined the active army. He hoped that he would become a pilot but was ruled ineligible because of astigmatism.

Though the Army was segregated in 1944, Officer Candidate School was not. He and sixteen other African American candidates completed OCS in 1945 and were commissioned as second lieutenants. He was assigned to serve in the Philippines.

He left the army and attended Muhlenberg College. In 1948, after President Harry S. Truman had desegregated the military, he was accepted for active duty once and remained in the Army until 1983. He saw combat duty in Korea and Vietnam. He was stationed in Germany, the Philippines, France, the Southwest Pacific, and Japan during his service. In 1972 he was promoted to Brigadier General.

As an army General, he commanded the 1st Cavalry Division, the US Army Operations Test and Evaluation Agency, and the VII U.S. Corps. He was the first African American officer to command a Corps in the US Army.

He earned a BS in Mathematics from Prairie View A&M. He received an MS in economics from the University of Maryland. He was a graduate of the United States Command and General Staff College, the Armed Forces Staff College, and the National War College.

He held several important posts in the government, the private sector, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. He was director of the Office of US Foreign Disaster Assistance. President Ronald Reagan appointed him the director of FEMA. He was CEO of American Coastal Industries and he was named chairman of the Senior Civil Emergency Planning Committee for NATO.

The Texas A&M University Board of Regents unanimously voted him the president of Prairie View A&M. He was the first Prairie View A&M graduate to be selected president of the institution. He was the Superintendent of Schools in DC.

He married Louise Thornton (1948). They have five children. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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corallapis · 2 years ago

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For even more context:

Patrick Shaw-Stewart (1888-1917) was a member of the Coterie, a group of young aristocrat friends whose decadence in the years before the First World War was a rebellion against their Souls parents, an echo of the Wildean '90s, and a herald of the Bright Young Things of the '20s.

Shaw-Stewart was pale, ginger, and had a nose "so long that when Lady Marjorie Manners was drawing his profile and found her pencil going farther and still farther down the paper she grew, as she said, 'almost frightened.'"

He became a director at Barings Bank at age twenty-four, both due to his talents (he was an exceptional scholar) and in no small part to his affair with Ettie Desborough, a woman more than twenty years his senior, whose other devotees included Lord Revelstoke, senior partner of said bank.

He served in Gallipoli as part of the Hood Battalion, Royal Naval Division, dubbed "Winston's Little Army." The other men included 'Oc' Asquith, Denis Browne, Rupert Brooke, and Charles Lister, who "sat together a meals at what came to be known as the Latin table, because their talk was spiced with classical quotation." They used such references in their letters home to circumvent the censors, Shaw-Stewart writing, "We are now on an island not unconnected with the education of Neoptolemus [...] I am going to take my Herodotus as a guide book," and spent their down-time "building a little boat 'like the ship of Odysseus on a Greek vase.'"

I Saw A Man This Morning was written in Shaw-Stewart's copy of Housman's A Shropshire Lad. By that point, the Hood Battalion had lost several officers, including Brooke and Browne. Other friends and members of the Coterie serving elsewhere in the war were facing similar fates. In August 1915, Shaw-Stewart wrote to Ettie: "If Edward [Horner], Raymond [Asquith], Ego [Charteris] and I are left, we can yet reconstruct a makeshift universe. But I suppose at least one more of us is bound to be killed." In two years time, they were all dead.

I saw a man this morning Who did not wish to die; I ask, and cannot answer, If otherwise wish I. Fair broke the day this morning Against the Dardanelles; The breeze blew soft, the morn's cheeks Were cold as cold sea-shells. But other shells are waiting Across the Aegean sea, Shrapnel and high explosive, Shells and hells for me. O hell of ships and cities, Hell of men like me, Fatal second Helen, Why must I follow thee? Achilles came to Troyland And I to Chersonese: He turned from wrath to battle, And I from three days' peace. Was it so hard, Achilles, So very hard to die? Thou knewest and I know not— So much the happier I. I will go back this morning From Imbros over the sea; Stand in the trench, Achilles, Flame-capped, and shout for me.

— I Saw A Man This Morning, by Patrick Shaw-Stewart

(context and some incoherent opinions below)

CONTEXT: Shaw-Stewart was a British soldier in WWI. His only poem, ‘I Saw A Man This Morning,’ was written in a period of rest before returning to fighting and was published posthumously. He was killed in battle in 1917.

this is one of my all-time favourite poems. like, it lives rent free in my head and sometimes i just recite it to myself and go insane the repetition of ‘hell’ in the fourth stanza and then its echo in the name helen?? like omg? and those last two lines – ‘stand in the trench, Achilles, / Flame-capped, and shout for me.’ SCREAM i struggle to form coherent thoughts about this poem but yeah it’s pretty awesome

#patrick shaw-stewart #the coterie #wwi #guys who have only attended oxbridge now serving in gallipoli: getting a lot of classical vibes from this....#quotes and info from the children of the souls; eddie marsh's bio; a deep cry; etc #if you want specific book recs i got em #🕰️

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freequizbank · 2 years ago

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Denmark, Albany Senior High School return strong results at West Coast Fever Cup _ FreeQuizBank.com - Free Exam Practice Questions for LANTITE Numeracy, Mathematical Reasoning - OC, Selective and Scholarship Tests @acereduau #NSWeducation #AusEdu @AusGovEducation @ServiceNSW

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vprogresseducation · 2 years ago

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midori-laboratories · 2 years ago

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Ashes In The Fall - Chapter 7: Tension and Calculation III

Book 2 of the Calendula Chronicles

Resident evil, Wesker X OC

Story Summary: Marigold Ashford escaped the mansion, only to face new incarceration with a familiar jailor. She may yet have to make a deal with the devil, if she can unearth what this Faustian bargain would cost her.

There is always something left to lose.

Chapter summary: An old contact reaches out to the remnants of STARS, and Marigold's activities are discovered.

Kate Everett, senior corporate manager for the Raccoon City Umbrella headquarters, had begun seriously examining her life choices once again since the Arklay disaster.

Another disaster. More ‘accidents’. Except this one was so bad it had taken out two STARS teams, a train, the old training facility and the Arklay mansion itself. Most of the work kept her tied between New York and the town; it wasn’t the only lab, or even the important one. But damn.

She had barely paid attention to the recent uptick in murders until the STARS team was announced, with their shiny new roster. Most of the old lab crew had transferred away since the eighties. So when the paper had shown pictures of the team, her eye had caught upon a face that snagged in her memory: the Arklay researcher that had split off to parts unknown several years earlier. He was older, and had clearly done a few tours out...better not to think too hard on that. Still, the face in the photo was unmistakable.

Something…really bad was expected to go down soon. She’d put in a call to her ex back in May and asked him to let their daughter stay with him in New York for the summer. She couldn’t get away herself, but she felt better for making the decision. He had worked in the same office as her during those rocky years after the training facility had been shut down. Some things didn’t need to be said.

Sometimes Kate Everett really, really hated being right. The officers went in. Most of them didn’t return. One helicopter returned with only a few survivors.

And then things started to get really weird when her phone rang late that same night.

“Where have you been?!” Kate had sat down hard in her recently redecorated kitchen. It had been years - a broken marriage, a daughter, a house, and a promotion, in that order, but that voice transported her back like it was yesterday.

“Same place you left me, obviously. I’m glad you weren’t there for it, but it is what it is.” The mansion...oh, god. Somehow, it kept slipping out of her head that she had left the woman there. The connection just wouldn’t hold. That was likely why no one had looked to hard at her following the mysterious incident that had occurred on the same day. Walls ripped apart. A couple of guards, and an office manager had died. A few others had been quarantined for a few weeks before being released. Their frightened, haunted eyes shone in her dreams.

Marigold...somehow...had warned her of what was about to happen, that cold November day in 1981. “You told me to run, back then, didn’t you.”

“Yes.” She sounded distracted. Then: “The newspaper said that the researcher you had me meet...there...was leading a rescue team into the mansion. Are they all company?” So careful to avoid names.

“The...oh!” Everett stammered, picking up the thread of the question. “They’re all cops, I think. No, he went into the Intelligence Division years ago.” A cold pit was forming in the pit of Kate’s stomach. She really hated being right. At least the one name on that list that actually caused any concern for her team hadn’t survived the mansion. Umbrella had sent an email out to the senior heads at the office to prepare them for the impending shitstorm about to hit them all.

Marigold - good lord, she was alive - then had to run off, and Kate had to hold down the fort while the bombshell of the mansion exploded all over the town for the next few weeks. Doctor William Birkin had withdrawn into his work, and his wife had recently been ambushed by reporters who knew a bit more about her work than was strictly safe at this time.

Kate Everett was a survivor in a million little ways. Sometimes that meant avoiding seeing things that would put her on someone’s hit list.

Sometimes it meant wondering if this was the right time to leave the company.

Twelve days after that call, Kate woke up early. She was still groggy. She’d been sleeping poorly lately. If this kept up, they’d notice at work.

Kate kept a legal pad and pen on her bedside table with a telephone. Reaching for the pad automatically, she jotted something down without thinking, then went back to sleep. When her alarm rang, she got up as per usual and went about her day.

She’d just stepped into her bedroom to change out of her work clothes at the end of another long day, when she saw the note she had written herself.

[email protected]

IF YOU WANT OUT: BE SURE. -MA

At the bottom of the note was a messy scrawl of the Umbrella logo. In her own handwriting.

The call is coming from inside the house, she thought, bleak. R Chambers...was the biochemist who had signed on as a medic for STARS. Marigold was offering her a way out. Or you’re losing your mind.

Well, she had the email. Did she want out?

Yes. Yes, she did. Her estranged family was bundled away in New York. She was suddenly sharply glad they had agreed to stay there for the summer.

She looked at the note. There was only one way to be sure whether this was real or not.

But first, she’d need a glass of wine to fortify her nerves.

-----

Rebecca sat in Chris Redfield’s living room, surrounded by Chris, Barry, and Jill. Brad had begged off. They hadn’t fought him on it. Brad would get off light with the precinct for ‘just’ being branded a coward. What was being said about them...

Jill looked steadily at Rebecca. “Okay. We’re all here now. We need to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

Chris looked crestfallen. “I can’t believe Irons was in their pocket the whole time.”

“Can’t you?” Barry replied, just as dejected.

Chris hesitated, then shook his head. “I wanted it to be over so bad. Can we even do anything from here?”

“Um...I mentioned to you guys that someone came over with a tip the day after, right?” Rebecca started, timid. She had moved over to Jill’s computer and logged into her old university email address. After reading through the contents of the notebook from her visitor, she’s started checking it two, three times a day. So far, nothing.

“You did. Sorry, Rebecca.” Chris had the grace to look embarrassed. “I...I kind of thought someone from the company was trying to psyche you out, with everything that’s gone down since.”

“Well, I didn’t want to get into all of it over the phone. I had to check over the notes that she gave me.”

Jill perked up. “Notes?”

Rebecca pulled the lab notebook from her satchel. The bracelet and the ID card were tucked inside the cover. She held it out to Jill. Frowning, Jill took it. Flipped it open, saw the ID card of Doctor John Clemens. “That’s...he was just outside the lab with the...holy shit.” She plucked the ID up and handed it to Chris before refocusing on the other object inside the cover. “A patient bracelet? It’s from the mansion.” She looked back up at Rebecca. for answers.

Rebecca sighed. “She was in the lab - she said that Doctor Clemens managed to get her out - she was a little sketchy on the details of how. I might have just missed crossing paths with her if that’s true.” She looked miserable. “I know how it sounds, but just look at what she’s giving us.”

“Beck, we were all in that forest. even if she got out of the mansion...” Barry trailed off. Both teams had lost people in those trees on arrival. So many people, just gone.

Jill broke back in, flipping through the pages. “Guys, Rebecca’s right. A lot of this stuff is old, but it’s all of the internal structures. Maps, corporate structures. I think she uses a different name for the virus. There are pages here on the mansion in the late seventies to ‘81.” Jill went still. “Wesker’s in here. Jesus, Rebecca.”

Rebecca nodded. She had their attention, now. “She really, really wanted to be sure that he was dead. I told her what I could. She...seemed annoyed.” At Barry’s incredulous look, she kept going. “No, not like that. She just thought it sounded like a stupid way to die. Just walking at the Tyrant and being the biggest target. She said it sounded sloppy for him. She’s written up what she knows there, too.”

Jill opened her mouth to argue, then stopped, nodding in agreement. “...kind of, yeah. You would have had to be there.” She skimmed through the section. “It stops in 1981. Because that’s when they grabbed her then, you said. Was she a spy?”

“No. Worse. She got infected with a version that stayed…dormant, I think, about a decade earlier, and managed to hide it. Apparently, she was a senior bigshot for a while. But it made them pretty mad when they found out.” Rebecca glanced at the computer screen again, frowning. She continued. “She was able to back up some of what I saw before Alpha team arrived - and she was able to corroborate my description because she recognized him.” Rebecca reached into her bag again for her thermos, packed with dry ice. Popping open the top, she showed them two and a half small vials of blood. “That brings me to the other reason I think she came to me. I was able to take these.”

“She let you?”

“She insisted. I think she was afraid I wouldn’t believe her. Wouldn’t stay more than an hour, and she said she was skipping town as soon as we were done.” The thermos had a special cold seal for portable sample storage. “I was able to duck into the university between sessions on a Saturday and check it out myself. I couldn’t do much, but...I believe her, for what it’s worth.” Rebecca glanced back to the computer screen, refreshing the browser window. A small green flag for a new message appeared.

Jill noticed. “That’s not all, is it.”

“Nope,” Rebecca suddenly grinned. “She - sorry, she seemed spooked about using her name, and I think I’ve picked up that tic as well now - she said that she would see if an old contact of hers still wanted to get away from Umbrella. One who could pick up the story where she left off.” Rebecca clicked open the open new email. “And it looks like she’s ready to talk to us. Listen.” Rebecca leaned in the read the message aloud for the room. “A mutual friend reached out to me, in case I wanted to run this time. When she says it’s time to run, it’s a good time to listen.” Rebecca glanced over her shoulder at the team. Her smile was pure triumph. “I have a phone number.”

-----

It was shocking, really, how much farther she could cast herself out since before that fateful trip to Arklay. Physically, she hadn’t changed much. But this...she could sense dozens of people still out around the continental US alone- executives, organizers, intermediaries. People, places to intercept. She’d read about magnetic resonance for brain imaging, and wondered if that might be an option. The technology might just be where she needed it these days.

Of course, pursuing that would mean either escaping and hoping she could beg or borrow that sort of access, or breaking the increasingly uncomfortable holding pattern she had established with Wesker.

The old manor in England was too far away, but the people around it still lived, little fireflies in the darkness. Too far to reach, and the point of the exercise wasn’t to push. Not yet. Just…observe. But with time? Perhaps more.

Enough to risk staying off her suppressants, at the very least.

She reached south, and west. Towards Rockfort. Alfred must have absorbed some of her staff. As far as they could tell, she physically affected her family less, but the connection wasn’t any weaker. Alexia had been fastidious about containment. But Alfred...he had been too young to not seek hugs from his favorite (only) aunt. The little boy had just seemed so damned lonely when the others weren’t looking. Her last conversation with him from Racoon City still bothered her. Alfred was also there. If she reached, she might see more. Too much for her to push through today. But also…

The Antarctic facility wasn’t empty. Did any of hers take over the work? Possible. Alfred had mentioned a plan. None of it will matter, soon enough. What in the world had he meant by that?

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, approaching her rook. She’d been under for longer than she had meant to go. There no real way to mark time down here, and surfacing took time. Not much, but it would be noticeable.

Time to pay the piper.

-----

There was a strange bubble of calm as Wesker approached Marigold’s room. I’ll know if something happens, you realize. Alfred Ashford’s words echoed from his memories.

He reached her door and hit the release. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed.

Marigold, in the Arklay conference room in 1981, sitting very still in the plush conference room chair, head bowed and eyes closed, with hands folded primly in her lap.

A moment passed. Here in the present, Marigold’s eyes flickered open, meeting his calmly.

“Your escort slipped out just after the meeting started,” he stated. His mouth felt dry. “It was put down to nausea, even after you started trying to fight your way out. No one put it together.”

”I’d know if something happened.” She replied, in an eerie parallel to a conversation he’d had in New York nearly ten years ago. History never repeats itself, but it often rhymes.

He could easily chase down this lead, but it would take hours to do it in person. Communication or inducement to filter was a possibility unless Marigold was sedated here and now. Frankly, it would burn the wrong bridge.

Besides, there was a wonderful opportunity right before him, if he let the lesser prey run free. A bird in the hand, and all that rubbish. The video feed had shown she hadn’t moved in hours from that position. Back then, she had arrived to the meeting fresh, but under the influence of suppressant medication. She had grown suddenly exhausted over the course of the meeting, masquerading as a headache.

Dark circles had returned below her eyes. Her stomach gurgled in protest, and she winced.

“Gym. Get some water, but we’ll go now. There’s something I’d like to test, and you may prefer an empty stomach.” He wouldn’t get a better time.

She shrank back. “Neither of us wants another blackout.”

His eyes seemed to gleam behind the glasses. “So it is reflexive. We can work around that.” She didn’t move, but a wariness was creeping back into her face. “I’ve seen you do it twice now if memory serves. Do you really want to worry about that catching you off guard?”

Marigold bit her lip, and closed her eyes again, for just a moment. He allowed it. The snare on the prey he wanted was already snapping tight.

Then she opened her eyes and looked up at him. She slowly unfolded her legs. “I may need a moment. I think my legs have gone numb. I could do with a glass of water, though.”

He stepped into the room.

#calendula chronicles #resident evil fanfiction #marigold ashford #albert wesker x oc #ashes in the fall

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arthenaa · 2 years ago

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heyy since there's gonna be a lot of ocs in this fic i just wanted to share some face references and small facts of some of my original characters for y'all hihi (will post more as story progresses, names mentioned below are only the characters mentioned for chapter 1 and prologue)

BRITISH MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Ryona Bassett

ACTUALLY MADE HER WITH ANGELA BASETT IN MIND ,,, Queen behavior

Head Auror of British Ministry of Magic

Recently promoted Head Auror after the capture of Hugo Blaire (wink wink guess which fic this is)

Sebastian previously worked in her division before he got transferred to Victoria Wren's care

in her late 40's

has a soft spot for Ominis but doesn't let it show (was a friend of his Aunt)

Ravenclaw

Half-blood

Face claim as Angela Bassett

Howard Arkenstone

just shat out a name tbh

one of the youngest ministers to be elected

deemed to be one of the strongest wizards of his time

the ministry loves this guy

Hufflepuff

Pureblood

early 50's

face claim as mark strong

Victoria Wren

the pics are so chefs kiss

face claim as Lashana Lynch

was once Howard Arkenson's protege

Sebastian Sallow's officer-in-command

strict af but she's a good mentor yo

strong admiration for Howard

Senior Auror

Late 30's

Slytherin

MACUSA

Gladys Hale

Slightly based off Connor from Detroit Become Human with a slight attitude ueehhehehhehehhehehhe

Auror and protégé of Joanne Goldstein

Legilimens

was taken under Joanne Goldstein's wing after interrupting a trial and pointed out the lies of a defendant (even tho she wasn't supposed to and it almost got her fired if it weren't for Joanne)

Blunt and expressionless most of the time but something about reader sets her off somehow (HIHI im gonna be pouring my ass on this fucking dynamic baby)

yk that meme where person a is like tired and holding a leashed person b thats u and gladys <3

somehow has to have something occupied in her hands

Horned Serpent

Face claim as Ana de Armas / Felicity Jones

Joanne Goldstein

I AM NOTOOKAYASJJA

anyways

1/3 of MACUSA's finest, Master in Truth Seeking, Senior Auror

gay GAY GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Alcohol enthusiast (Gladys oftens tells her to stop for the sake of her health)

Wizarding world's most renowned prosecutor and investigator

has 97.5% win rate in winning her trials

Animagus (in the form of a black cat)

Pureblood

Wampus

mid-40's

Face claim as Cate Blanchett

Elliot Fontaine

I HAD TO OKAY

God told me in my sleep he'd evaporate me in my sleep if i didnt put him as elliot's face claim

MACUSA's troublemaker

has absolute fucking rizz man

reader calls him old man as an exaggeration

America's most skilled duelist

delved in the dark arts during his 5th year

almost got him expelled tbh

can be often seen drinking w Joanne in bars (doesnt matter if its No-Maj or wizard)

has a sweet tooth and likes No-Maj sweets and coffee (something u acquired from him)

Half-blood

mid-40's

Thunderbird

2/3 of MACUSA's finest, (DAMN HE IS FINE) Master in the Dark Arts and Senior Auror

Gregory Walker

damn

anys 3/3 of MACUSA's finest <3 Senior Auror and Master of Charms

quiet, often likes to keep to himself

doesn't have a protege as of now (still hasn't decided actually)

unintentionally charming to ppl even tho he's socially awkward bc all he's ever done is be professional

but actually despite being professional, he has a wife and a kid !! <3 aw

his wife is his ilvermorny first love mwa

joanne and elliot love to mess w him

mid-50's

Pukwudgie

Margaery Simmons

President of MACUSA

America's Beloved Witch

This woman is mwa mwa

definition of elegance

very difficult to impress actually

elliot definitely tried to rizz her up once but she was just like :)

deemed to be wise af for her age

No one doubts her judgement

Horned Serpent

Late-40's

Face claim as Jessica Chastain

PHILMAJ

Regina Salazar

Activist for the Wizarding minority in the Philippines

Main antagonist of the series <3

Said to be quite friendly to muggles

Pureblood

Late-30's

Tala (check this post for house details in the PH)

Face claim as Jodi Sta. Maria

José Protasio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda "Jose Rizal"

Doctor, Scholar, Artist

Has Filipino and Chinese lineage

Pureblood but is actually a squib (how he was able to use magical objects will be explained more in the fic)

Currently resides with seromahis

mid-30's

Face claim as Dennis Trillo (why he kinda look like the eldest bridgerton)

PROLOGUE SIDE CHARACTERS

Don Jose Taviel de Andrade

Spanish military officer

Jose Rizal's friend and was tasked to keep him safe

Seromahi

Face claim as Juan Diego Botto

Don Manuel Pedro de Alfonso

General

Friend and Advisor to the King of Spain (Currently assigned to facilitate matters in the Philippines, all he does is laze around tbh)

rumored to be killed by Regina Salazar

discovered a mysterious artifiact in northern Philippines

Face claim as Paco Tous

____________________

A/N: anys i had fun with this HOPE IT ADDS MORE TO THE STORY and gets you to connect w the characters mwehehe

To be or not to be (CHAPTER 1)

Auror! Sebastian Sallow x Fem! MACUSA Auror! Reader Series

Story Summary: To prevent a war between humans and wizards, you and Sebastian are tasked with your respective agencies to save the fate of the wizarding world from the hands of a dark wizard in the Philippines.

Chapter Summary: The agencies get news of what happened, they've decided to put you and Sebastian on the case.

Chapter warnings: cursing, nothing much really, seb and you arguing its kinda cute,

Chapters: Prologue, MORE CHAPTERS COMING SOON

Notes: this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but i got kinda sick and only finished it now. enjoy the 6k words ppl <3

“Simmons is summoning me?”

You were sure you heard wrong. An effect of the coffee you bought from a No-Maj coffee shop on the way to work. The caffeine was kicking in and causing you to have auditory delusions.

Yes, surely that must be it,

But the more you assess the woman’s deadpan stare and exhausted stature, the more you started to doubt if the coffee really had an effect at all. You had gone to the MACUSA headquarters with no expectations and a hefty paperwork awaiting your desk. It was mostly due to the fact that you had finished a heavy case alongside your mentor and Senior Auror, Elliot Fontaine.

Having mentors in MACUSA meant potential. They took you under their wing because they saw great potential in you and would have the possibility of joining the higher ranks alongside them where witches and wizards with formidable power reside. It was an honor that you definitely upheld and cherished from the day when Elliot witnessed your magical prowess on the field and began calling you ‘kid.’. He’s been with you ever since. Having a mentor also meant that you took cases in pairs. Lower rank Aurors are mostly handled and led by the Middle Ranks. They are formed in squads or teams while Higher rank Aurors such as Elliot operated individually or sometimes in pairs when they choose to mentor someone. Usually higher ranks are tasked with grave cases which usually involved dark wizards who plan to overtake communities while the lower ranks settled to maintain order and minor cases.

You had expected the moment that Gladys Hale, Joan Goldstein’s stagiaire, stepped into your office that a case would be delivered for your mentor but to your very very very big surprise. It was addressed to you.

“Are you sure you’re not tricking me? Like this is not some form of prank to make me look bad or something?” You asked with your hands wringing each other as you looked up at her with big eyes from your seat behind your desk. She blinks slowly as if to further emphasize her lack of mood to jest. You lick your lips as you feel them dry up from the lack of moisture in the air. The clacking of typewriters and the scratching of quill pens against parchment paper (a charm you had casted as multiple quills help you in lessening the piling workload on your desk) form a comfortable distraction from Gladys’ piercing eyes.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She says your last name with such disdain as if to say how disgusted she is that you would even consider her travelling few floors down instead of dawdling with the higher ups just to prank you. You let out a shaky breath as you place your hands on the cool wooden surface of your desk.

“… Can I at least know the details?”

“I’m not authorized to reveal case details unless you agree to come with me to the designated place.” Gladys answers with curt and firm professionalism. You stare at her some more, trying to find a flaw in her body language. It wasn’t every day that the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America would personally summon you to her office. Normally, situations like that called trouble or a possible loss of job or banishment to the cells under the Woolworth building and you were sure that you did nothing to warrant such cruel punishments (you think?).

You hadn’t realized that your mind further buried you into a spiraling descend to overthinking when Gladys decided she had enough and snapped her fingers in front of your face. You lean back fast in surprise as her face seems to look grouchier and cold than the last.

“Look, all I know is that Fontaine was the one who suggested you for this case to the President. Rest assured that your mentor will be present while they debrief you. A few other senior Aurors will be on standby and judging by the fact that Fontaine, Goldstein and Walker are called in one room, you are safe to assume that this is counted as a very important case. Understand?” Gladys raises her eyebrows as she expects you to finally calm your thoughts with her vague explanation.

It certainly did not help at all.

You put on a stiff smile while you made sure to strangle your no-good-of-a-mentor right after this so called debrief. So let’s sort this out, MACUSA’s great three is present in one room with the President being the handler of this case and they’ve elected you to be the primary representative and investigator of whatever fuckery this case might be.

What the actual fuck? Are they fucking mental?

“No, they’re not fucking mental, Y/N.” Gladys retorts as she crosses her arms over her chest. Right, she’s a legilimens. Right on Joan Goldstein’s track. The Senior Auror often handled prosecutions and interrogations. Gladys proved to be quite effective in this side of the Auror office due to her ability and efficiency in prosecuting dark wizards and made sure they rot in hell in their prisons under the fucking congress. It certainly proved to be a pain on the ass right now though. “Do know that ill-intentions towards the higher ranks are—“

“It was a joke, Hale. Calm your tits.” You chortle as you rise from your seat, putting on your coat and grabbing your wand from the safety of your desk drawer. Gladys sighs as she then waits for you to get ready. With a firm tug on the collars of your coat, you turn towards the brunette with a smile.

“Can’t keep the Madam President waiting can we?” You outstretch your hand towards her. “Assuming from the vague details you just explained, we’re expected someplace else?”

“Correct,” Gladys grabs your outstretched hand before pulling out a small book from her pockets. You know what it was—a portkey. To where it might lead you? You’ll never know. She glances at you as she motions the book in her hand. “This is authorized, do not fret.”

You sigh before nodding. Apparating within congress grounds was usually prohibited and there were only certain areas in the ministry that allowed such modes of travel. Portkeys usually were required to have the authorization and approval of the Travel department as well as the President so you knew that you didn’t need to move someplace else for the portkey to work. You only hope that the journey won’t result in you puking your guts out.

Gladys levitates the book in her hand as it begins turn page after page in a fast pace. The magic ruffles your clothes as green light emerges from the paper material of the pages. Gladys turns to you with a smile. “Let’s visit home, shall we?”

Rain pours down unto the streets of London, rendering the streets with murky waters. People bustle here and there as carriages roll down the stone pavements. It was considered to be another normal day for muggles however an entirely different scene is happening within the alleyways of London. A shadow stands on top of the buildings and peers down unto the narrow paths, watching a figure run down with escape only in their mind. The rain wets his coat as he lifts his wand, tip illuminating as he focuses it on the running figure. He then raises his free hand to tap against his temple, the skin illuminating under his touch. He forms a mind connection with another.

“Coming out your way. King’s Road. I’ve casted the tracking charm.” Sebastian Sallow murmurs into the connection with his partner. The figure disappears from his sight as he turns a sharp left into the streets.

“Nice work. On your position.” The man on the other side praises his work before the connection drops. He lets out a sigh before apparating to the discussed location. The man tries to disguise himself with the crowd as he pulls his coat to further cover his face. Sebastian follows him quietly behind, glancing on the other side of the street as another auror matches his pace. The fugitive seems to have caught on causing him to break into a sprint. The auror on the other side of the street gives him a curt nod before chasing him down. Sebastian turns to a corner to take a shortcut before a pair of hands grab him from moving any further. He raises his head in surprise, staring at familiar cloudy blue eyes.

“Ominis?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows in surprise at the presence of his dearest friend, Ominis Gaunt. The former Slytherin smiles at Sebastian’s voice before nodding his head towards the other way.

“No time to waste, come with me.” He mumbles quietly as he grasps his arm but Sebastian only stands still—confused.

“We’re in the middle of an operation. Wren’s expecting me to be with her in a few minutes. I’m sure this can wait?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows as Ominis lets out a huff. “They’re about to catch Collins and I have to be there to help.”

Ominis Gaunt can’t help but roll his eyes at his best friend’s attempt at firmness. It never really suited him as someone who had experienced all sorts of tomfoolery the Sallow boy had done throughout their stays at Hogwarts. After their graduation, the two of them immediately got jobs at the ministry. Ominis wasn’t surprised that Sebastian became an Auror and he was glad and incredibly grateful for his job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He often travelled as a demand from his work so seeing the brunette in front of him was definitely a missed sight. The Henry Collins case was trending currently in the wizarding world. An alchemist who used muggle subjects to perform his works on was horrifying enough that it was considered a main priority. Of course, you could count Sebastian Sallow to be part of the group of Aurors in charge of the case. Under the guidance and authority of Victoria Wren, a senior Auror and quite a renowned one, he was considered to be a genius investigator and a skilled duelist. Two factors that made him a great Auror. He was already recognized by the head as well as the Minister for Magic. It was safe to say that he was quite requested for the important cases. As said before, the Henry Collins Case was considered to be a priority, until recently.

“I was tasked to fetch you. They’ve sent someone from Yaxley’s squad to cover your position. Wren’s notified of it just now.” Ominis taps the end of his cane against ground, a small act he has to keep up with to avoid stares from muggles. Luckily with years of practice in transfiguration, he was able to transfigure his wand into a cane that allowed him to navigate himself freely in unknown areas without having to hit random strangers’ knees every time. It was a few hard months but definitely worth it. Professor Weasley surely must be proud of him.

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Tasked by who?”

Ominis sighs before placing a firm hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “The Minister of Magic himself along with the Head Auror. They’ve got a case for you. Bigger than this one, I fear.”

Sebastian’s jaw slightly falls at the mention of the two important figures. It wasn’t every day that the higher ups were the ones who requested for your presence. He wasn’t even promoted yet (a stupid mistake on Wren’s behalf according to him) and here he was, personally requested by wizards who could easily end his career. He lets out a shaky breath before glancing at the bustling street then back at his best friend.

“Are you sure you’re not just pranking me or something?” Sebastian tries to reassure the situation one more time but Ominis only shakes his head with a smile.

“Such a worrywart you are, Sebastian Sallow. Where has the Slytherin in you gone? A stain on Salazar’s legacy.” Ominis dramatically replies as he moves forward to intertwine his arm with Sebastian. He nudges him slightly before letting out a breath. “Hang tight.”

“What—“

And that was the last thing Sebastian said before he was pulled in by magic with three taps of Ominis’s cane on the ground.

“You could’ve at least let me prepare before apparating out of there?” Sebastian leans against the ministry’s cold walls as he catches his breath. Ominis appears to be unaffected as he transfigures the cane back to his wand. Sebastian looks up at him with disdain. “How’d you even apparate in?”

“Authorized. Bragging rights.” Ominis grins as he begins to walk down the halls of the international delegation office, an exhausted Sebastian trudging behind him. The brunette examines the blonde’s back with boredom as he passes office after of office. Levitating quills and flying books flutter in the air as they quickly made their way to the double doors at the end of the hallway. Ominis stops with a quick halt causing Sebastian to bump into his back.

The brunette lets out an oomph as he pushes back against Ominis to steady himself. The blonde turns towards him with a sigh. Sebastian feels like his best friend would chastise him once more for his lack of attention but the blonde only turns back around towards the large black glossy doors and knocks a rhythm on the surface.

Instead of opening up like normal doors, they rotate as a gargoyle replaces its position. Ominis leans in to speak in parseltongue and Sebastian can’t help but be amused at his best friend speaking the language of snakes once more.

He remembers the blonde promising to not speak it again after their little altercation in the scriptorium.

“Sorry, the complexity of it all has a reason.” Ominis explains as the gargoyle rotates once more revealing a set of staircase leading down. Sebastian glances behind him as he lets his best friend go first before following behind him.

Every step lights a blue flame on the walls as they descend down the spiraling stairs. It was quite dizzy at first but the scenery of a whole new floor left Sebastian in awe. A functioning headquarters was right under the gargoyle as wizards and witches bustle around. Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as a large projection of a man getting blasted across the room and an image of a woman appears right after. The danger meter hanging on top of the ceiling was dangerously touching the tips of the red shade.

What the fuck is happening?

The two reach the final step before Ominis drags them to the front of the room where the Head Auror, Ryona Bassett, Minister for Magic, Howard Arkenstone and someone whom he’d never expect to be there, his old professor, Aesop Sharp.

The three seem to be in a deep conversation as Ominis and Sebastian arrive. The Gaunt clears his throat catch their attention. Ryona lets out a breath of relief at the arrival. “You’re here, at last.”

“Why is the meter red?” Sebastian immediately intercepts as he stares at the clock dangling on the ceiling. “That wasn’t like that this morning. Is it because of Collins?”

Howard lets out a sad huff. “Your mentor has got the Collins case handled but I’m afraid there are much more pressing matters. We received an intercontinental transmission message from another wizarding community regarding an emergency.”

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at the giant projection. Ryona moves beside Sebastian as she watches the moving image of the situation playing in a loop. The Head Auror turns towards the Sallow boy with a look of anguish. “That wizard community is at its wilting threads because of this, Sebastian. It’s only a matter of time that we’ll be affected by it as well.”

The brunette glances back at Ryona who smiles at him. “We’ve decided to put you on the case.”

“What?”

“You’re a duelist and have far more knowledge in the dark arts. At least according from what I heard from your Head Auror.” His old professor, Aesop intercepts. Ryona nods at her words. “I was called here by Ryona. I will be part of the overseeing team of this whole case. There has never been a case like this for years.”

“I will be with you as well.” Ominis reassures behind him. Sebastian sighs as he tucks his hands within his pockets.

“Alright, tell me everything I need to know.”

Ilvermorny was beautiful than ever.

Sat on the highest peak of Mount Greylock was Ilvermorny School for Witches and Wizards. A place you once called home. Your old school. The stone walls of the castle looked sturdy and firm like it always had been as you trudged the halls of the castle. A few students murmur against one another as their eyes linger at your figures. You could practically hear the whispers of amazement as they recognize your connection to the congress. It wasn’t unusual to see an Auror here and there in the streets of New York but to see them in schools was definitely an alarming sight. It usually meant something was in trouble.

The potions professor, Ellen Quinn was tasked to be your guide to the assigned meeting. It was wise of the President to conduct her debrief here considering that Ilvermorny, like other wizarding schools, is a base of wizardry’s most powerful defense and combat magic. Where else to discuss such matters than the safest place in the wizarding world of America?

The heels of your boots clack nicely against the marble floors as you near the entrance to the Great Hall. Gladys stands beside you as Ellen motions for the two of you to wait before entering the hall. A blue light glides over the huge double doors—a privacy protection charm that you were sure Gregory Walker casted. A pure master in charms and spells. The man was most known for his great skill in silent charms and also created upgraded spells. A man of innovation.

Your mentor was most known for his affinity with the dark arts. Elliot Fontaine still is America’s most skilled magic duelist to this era. His work was often affiliated with dark magic and slowly he was able to build a slight immunity from dark curses. You weren’t surprised as to why they were called the MACUSA’s finest. Soon enough, you knew that you’d have to fill in the shoes of your mentor as Gladys and Gregory’s protégé will.

Gladys shuffles quietly beside you and you couldn’t help but turn your head towards her shifting. “Nervous?”

“For what? I’m not the one handling the case.” She answered with a teasing tone as she places her hands behind her back. You tense at the reminder before continuing to reminisce the memories of the past.

“I take that you’re a Horned Serpent then?” You change the topic as you glance at her from your peripheral vision. Gladys shakes her head as she laughs softly in amusement.

“Is it the legilimency that made you think that?” Gladys replies. You shrug jokingly.

“I mean, it makes sense…”

“Well, you’re right.” Gladys pats your shoulder as she replies. “Everyone expects a Hale to be a Horned Serpent.”

“Notice how I didn’t mention your lineage?”

“Oh shut up,” Gladys rolls her eyes as she says your name with playful annoyance. The doors open once more and you suddenly feel immense pressure from the amount of eyes staring at your arrival.

Joanne Goldstein.

Gregory Walker.

Elliot Fon—Wait no that old man can suck ass actually,

And of course, the President of MACUSA and the handler of your case, Margaery Simmons. You lock eyes with her and you see her lips twitch up into a gentle smile.

“Ms. Hale and Ms. Y/L/N.” She greets you with a gentle but professional tone. Your hands sweat as you enter the room. The doors glide again with the blue light as it closes with an echo. You discreetly brush them against the fabric of your coat before shaking the hand of America’s most beloved witch. “I trust that Ms. Hale was able to somewhat give you an idea as to why you were summoned here?”

“Somewhat.” You answer with a stiff smile as you glance at your mentor who only grins cheekily form his position beside Joanne. You subtly widen your eyes at him to which the senior Auror chuckles at.

“Good. Good.” Margaery nods her head slightly before grabbing a discarded newspaper placed on one of the tables. “Now that you have established that the debrief today is of a case with utmost importance, we will move on to the details.”

“To speed things up.” She adds as she motions the newspaper towards you and you take it with hesitance before flipping it to read the heading.

Influencial Seromahi killed by an unforgivable. Sources say the witch responsible for the murder is a Salazar.

“Seromahi?” You whisper in confusion as a moving picture of the event plays on the newspaper. You watch as a man is thrown back across the room by a spell you know all too well. A picture of a woman then flashes beside it, eyes mischievous and calculating.

“That’s a translated newspaper sent to us. It means No-Maj. Muggles for Britain.” Margaery muses as she elegantly places her hands on top of each other, positioned on her lower stomach. “Human.”

No way?

“A wizard killed a No-Maj in plain sight.” Gregory Walker chimes in from his position. Your heads turn towards him. “There are witnesses. Countless. Normally, matters like this are settled by their respective magical communities but the No-Maj killed is of foreign lineage.”

“An influential one as well.” You whisper as you try to assess more of what happened through the moving images. “How influential exactly?”

“A general.” Joanne Goldstein replies as she continues to sit on one of the empty chairs. “A friend and a close adviser to the King of Spain. This means something worse for us. A country as large and influential as Spain gaining knowledge of the existence of the wizarding world proves to be severely detrimental not only for the targeted magical community but also for the whole.”

Your jaw flutters at the severity of the situation as they stare at you with such seriousness. The gravity of this case can almost pummel you to the ground. Your hands tighten their grip around the paper. Margaery notices your nervousness. “Mr. Fontaine has suggested to assign you this task because of your capabilities and incredible skills as well as your affinity for magical tracing in dark magic. We don’t have much information on this but the head of the targeted magical community has reached out to send representatives per agency. You will not be alone in this, Y/N.”

This has to be your worst case yet. A wizard killing a No-Maj was not unheard of, in fact many prisoners underneath Woolworth were testified and charged guilty for the very reason. The severity of this situation was because the murder had been done in front of numerous No-Majs and the victim was also of influential standing. The murderer knew what she was doing. She did this on purpose.

Elliot Fontaine then walked towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve proven yourself worthy of this case. This counts as your immediate promotion, kid. You’re designated as a Senior Auror and investigator. Welcome to the ranks, detective.”

You turn towards Margaery who nods in agreement. Gladys smiles behind you as she only watches and listens in on the discussion. You bow your head in respect, unable to currently speak words from the shock of it all.

A promotion and a fucking mind shattering, headache inducing of a case. How wonderful.

“We’ll be right with you as combat squads in case a brawl happens, Ms. Y/N.” Joanne reassures you. “Until then, you and a few other representatives will be the ones leading this case.”

“Where is it located?” You ask as you fold the newspaper and tucking it under your arm. Gladys turns towards you as she flips a coin into the air before catching it effortlessly.

“The Philippines.” She says as she smiles. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “But before we head there, we rendezvous first with the representative of the British Ministry of Magic.”

Elliot grins as he tucks his hands inside his pockets. “Pack up. We’re going to London.”

You had never expected your first trip to London was going to be like this.

Put on the spot by your higher ups to lead an investigation alongside a British representative was certainly not one of your list of reasons in visiting. You hoped that it would be for a vacation; a well-deserved leave.

You sigh for the nth time because while you did not expect your week to end up like this, it seems Isolt Sayre frowned upon you. Your day is in absolute shit.

First, you were lost. Like a kid who got lost in a fucking playground lost. Though these things never bothered you that much, it certainly was an annoying thing to deal with. You had gone out to hunt for a proper No-Maj coffee. Gladys thinks it’s absurd that you prefer No-Maj coffee over her own brew but you don’t have the heart to tell her that your heart might as well explode from the amount of caffeine she intakes and it’s not even the No-Maj kind which gives you the right kind of palpitation but it’s the wizard kind that leaves all sorts of side effects. You don’t want to deal with having discolored eyes for an hour because of it. Anyways, after hunting for a good coffee, you had somehow forgotten to retrace your footsteps.

You might be thinking, oh! But you’re a wizard anyways, you can just apparate out of there! WRONG. You had forgotten your wand as well. The portkey had already destroyed your inner organs (exaggerated obviously) and had left your mind grasping at straws. It hasn’t reversed back to its prime condition as you had forgotten your most important necessity of all.

You trudge along the streets of London with an exhausted look on your face. You look around, taking in the bustling streets of Monday morning. It was early and your darling roommate, Gladys Hale, had taken it upon herself to suffocate into the comfortable and soft duvet in her sleep. Well, you couldn’t blame her. The beds were definitely nice.

After being promoted as a Senior Auror, Joanne Goldstein had assigned Gladys Hale to be your assistant for the case. She says after all that 3 minds are better than two. You could almost laugh at Gladys’s stiff face as she certainly did not expect to be included in the trip.

As promised, the other Aurors had their respective portkeys, in case a war or a brawl severe enough to warrant backup was needed. They still had to solve other cases after all.

Unaware of your surroundings, you were suddenly pushed harshly on the side. You yelped at the sudden force as you landed on your side at the stone pavement, the harsh texture of rock digging on your skin. You were about to curse whoever it was but a sudden neigh of a horse catches your attention.

Your eyes widened as a horse seemed to have noticed you last minute and began to jump up in fear. Its hooves were directly in front of your face and the overall posture of the animal made it feel so large and intimidating.

Time slowed and you wondered if this was how you were going to die.

You could hear horrified gasps and the horrified yells of the coachman. This was it. The horse was about to smash your face in and you certainly think that whatever might have possessed Margaery to decided how much of a fucking idiot decision to place you as lead investigator for this whole Salazar case is a bunch of bullshit. Yeah, the old man was a bunch of bullshit as well. You close your eyes in fearbefore you hear a spell being casted.

“Petrificus Totalus.”

It was curt and discreet but you heard it. The horse froze above you suddenly and you took the chance to crawl backwards and out of its smashing zone. The spell was immediately gone as it was casted and a hand on your arm pulls you up.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he stands you properly. You stare at him, unable to speak as you look down at your spilt coffee. He notices where you’re looking at before sighing. “Please don’t go under horses and squashing yourself.”

You look back at the crowd you had created as they begin murmur and gossip over what just had happened. The man tsked as he pulled off his coat and pulled it over your head. You certainly think following this man was a bad idea but he had saved you and he was a wizard, so that was a well reason enough. He pulled you in an empty alleyway, away from prying eyes.

“Thank you— “As you try to express your gratitude, he pulled out his wand and pressed the tip of it against your temple. Your eyes widen as you know what he’s doing it. “Wait! Are you fucking obliviating me?!”

The man tilts his head back in shock at your reply. He squints his eyes as he drops his wand back. “Are you a witch?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yes and you just tried to fucking obliviate me without even giving me the chance to speak.”

“I thought you were a muggle. You had no wand on you?! Who doesn’t bring their wand everywhere. It’s like your most important necessity.” The man reasoned. Your jaw flutters in annoyance.

“Look, I didn’t mean to leave it at home but—“

The man then tensed, wand raised again as he squints his eyes in suspicion. “Wait, who sent you? Wizards lingering like this sound awfully suspicious.”

Your jaw drops at the accusation. Is this what you get for agreeing to this stupid mission? Your coffee definitely got the brunt end of it. You place your hands on your hips as you give him an incredulous stare. “Are you insisting I’m a criminal?”

“… Maybe,”

“You fucking idiot.”

“I-I mean who knows!” The wizard tries to defend himself. “You’re certainly acting like one.”

“What is your standard actually? I’ll have you know that casting spells in a No-Maj environment is a grave offense.” You retort, face filled with fury. You were seriously going to bash this man’s head in.

“I saved your life?!”

“Still, No-Maj environment mister.”

“No-Maj?” He tilts his head like a dog confused. It was almost cute if not for his idiocy. You sigh as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“No magic. A non-wizard, dumbass.”

“For your information, we call them muggles.” He sarcastically responds before grabbing your arm. You gasp at his forward actions before trying to pull away.

“What are you doing?! I could have you filed for sexual assault—“

“I’m bringing you over to the ministry. Surely your excuse will matter when you face the court.” He scrunches his nose at you like an adult trying to talk to a toddler. You gasp at his insinuation and before you could even respond, you were gone.

Then a blink of an eye, you were someplace else.

You were sure that you were in a similar place to MACUSA. After all, you had heard him say ‘Ministry’ as he had forcefully hauled your ass over after he had tried to obliviate you. Darn fucking Monday.

The clack of your boots and his pristine shoes against the marble floors were satisfying. You could only look around in awe as he dragged you by the arm. The architecture was stunning. It was certainly quite different from your agency. It definitely gave off elegance. Amidst admiring the wondrousness of the building’s interior, you were then pulled to a stop which caused you to stumble on your feet.

The man gave you a look over with a raised eyebrow before looking at the receptionist. The woman nods in familiarity. “Mr. Sallow! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Is the court available? I have this very suspicious witch in my hands. I’d like her to be interrogated.” He smiles innocently at the receptionist who only raises her eyebrows in slight surprise. You turn towards him with a shocked look on your face.

“You’re putting me on trial?!”

“Why not?” He looks at you, deadpan. Oh gods, you wish you could strangle this man. “Loss of magical object and ill-intentions toward an officer-in-charge. Shall I name more?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“You wish, darling.” He leans in with a wink, mockingly. You could feel your face heating at the response. This man was certainly attractive but you couldn’t let that distract you from planning to curse his bloodline for the next 7 fucking generations.

That was a joke.

You think?

You let yourself be dragged begrudgingly before a call of your name catches your attention. You never knew Gladys Hale’s presence could be a sigh of relief. It was almost comforting. The woman mentioned marched with fury leaving her steps as her eyes never seem to leave yours. She calls your last name once more. “You fucking idiot! I leave you for 15 minutes and now you’re getting yourself arrested?!”

The man responsible for your capture pauses as he stares at the two of you. You look at Gladys with pleading eyes. “Save me, Hale. This man’s trying to put me in jail for baseless claims.”

“She left her wand. Insulted me too.” The man chimes in as he locks eyes with Gladys. Your companion looks back at you with a sigh before pulling said object from her coat pocket. You let out a noise of appreciation as you grab the object, hugging it close to your chest.

“We’re with MACUSA,” Gladys flashes her ID to Sebastian who furrows her eyebrows. “We’re supposed to be expected here— “

Sebastian’s eyes move from Gladys before looking at the newly entered people who, at first, doesn’t seem to notice them but then a man calls out an unfamiliar name and then he locks eyes with the Head Auror. He would try and greet in respect but the sound of you acknowledging the call immediately turned his head towards you in shock. Don’t fucking tell me this is—

“It seems you’ve already acquainted yourselves with one another?” Howard smiles alongside an unfamiliar man who he assumes to be of utmost importance judging by his overall aura. You furrow your eyebrows before turning towards the man beside you with a shocked look on your face.

“No fucking way.”

Elliot lets out a soft chuckle. “Mr. Sallow. Ms. Bassett has told me about you. Allow me to introduce my stagiaire, this is Y/N Y/L/N, MACUSA’s representative for the Salazar case.”

Sebastian turns to him in surprise, still speechless. The Head Auror notices the tense aura between you two. She raises an eyebrow at Sebastian who only smiles sheepishly at her stare.

“Alright, we’ve got no time to lose. Let’s go ahead and debrief the whole situation.”

You couldn’t believe this.

No, you will yourself not to. Sebastian, as you had come to know from his introduction, was supposedly your partner for this case. Well, the case was expected to have at least 5 representatives guided by a Division captain from the Philippines’ magical community. In those 5 representatives, they will be then grouped according to skill compatibility. The man beside you were decided to be your partner alongside Philippines’ representative, which you will meet at your arrival.

“According to our sources, the witch on target is Regina Salazar. A pureblood witch who was a big activist in the community.” Head Auror, Ryona Bassett discusses as she flips through a folder of the case intel. All of you had the same folder and your eyes lock with the moving picture of the culprit on yours. A pureblood? Interesting.

“Activist?” Sebastian chimes in from your side.

“The gal was a huge advocate for voicing the wizarding minority in the Philippines. Not sure as to why she’d suddenly kill a muggle. Sources also claim she’s quite friendly to muggles as well.” Howard furrows his eyebrows before placing his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers with one another.

“Quite an odd background for a dark wizard.” You comment as you flip through the case notes. Ryona seems to have her eyes settled on you before letting out a sigh.

“It seems we had a bit of an altercation this morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” Your head turns to her in surprise. “I apologize in behalf of the confusion.”

You bit your lip before smiling at her. “It’s alright, Ms. Bassett.”

“Aurors in the ministry should be great examples of the wizarding community,” Ryona sends a sharp look at Sebastian who almost cowers in fear like a kid who got caught in stealing some cookies. “My men should know better, isn’t that right, Mr. Sallow?”

The man lets out a begrudging sigh before turning towards you with a stiff look on his face. “Apologies, Ms. Y/L/N. Don’t forget your wand next time.”

You smile sarcastically at him before faking a smile towards the higher ups in front of you. Your mentor claps his hands to catch the attention of the room.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way. The case file also mentioned the discovery of an area in the northern Philippines.” He starts off as he stands from his seat, hands behind his back. “Not much is said about this in the files so I assume the debrief on this part will be conducted by your Division captain.”

You and Sebastian nod in understanding. The rest of the room stands up after an hour of planning before the Minister for Magic, Howard Arkenstone breaks the silence. “The two of you alongside Gladys Hale and Ominis Gaunt will be leaving for the Philippines in a few hours. Pack up what you need to bring and I can only hope that your time working together will be as efficient and swift as your capabilities as Aurors. Do I make myself clear?”

There’s a pause before both of you nod in understanding. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” Howard nods at the two of your before motioning Ryona and Elliot to join alongside him. “Come, we have to talk to the operations team as well.”

The two follow him out of the room, leaving the two of you to still be standing in silence beside each other. As soon as the doors close with a loud thud, you turn towards him with a serious look on your face.

“Look, I’ve decided to forgive and forget this little altercation we had this morning in hopes that we’ll be having a good partner relationship.” You smile innocently at him. You sure hope that he’d let this go considering he was the one who started the whole shebang. He only smiles at you with a slight chuckle, a little too condescending. Your hate for this man ups a scale for sure.

“Mhm,” He hums, a little too low. It stirs something in your stomach that you indefinitely ignore. He leans down with a patronizing smile. “This is important for the wizarding world after all.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Are you?” He raises an eyebrow before standing in his full height. He steps aside to gather his case file and then walking out of the room. You stare at his back as he pauses before turning back towards you.

“Let’s work well together, Ms. Y/L/N. I look forward to our time in the Philippines.”

He sends you a boyish grin that would’ve made you swoon if it weren’t for his little act. You knew he was just playing along by your rules but never taking you seriously. You huff in annoyance as you run your fingers through your hair.

Sayre, this is going to definitely be a long fucking annoying case.

Notes:

sebastian: *smirks*

reader: oh my fucking god you're so fucking annoying fuck you fuck me id let you do unspeakable things to me

anys hehe so theres gonna be five of u gasppp <3 and also a bit of bg introduction of the plot's main antagonist hehe hope you guys enjoyed this hihi, apologies if theres any grammatical errors or typos, ill be proof reading tom mwa

#arthenaa auror seb fic #tobeornottobe #hogwarts legacy #original work #read the fic above to understand

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