#sorry this is rushed! the next installment will be much more hq

[grimesgirll]

alexandria is the break you've been yearning for since shit hit the fan.

an independent walled and gated community is exactly the place to catch your breath. the past eighteen months had been a blur of grit and gore; you deserve to decompress in a pretty house, not that you spent all of your time in your new settlement inside. you made a point to take judith on daily walks.

you're returning from one of your new routine walks to get judith down for her afternoon nap when you find olivia - the neighbor lady who ran the armory and the pantry - on the porch, greeting your name.

“hi,” you reply with a smile, bolstering the cooing baby on your hip. “what do i owe you the pleasure, olivia?”

“i’ve been meaning to get over here ever since shane brought it up to me-,” you pause. “-i wouldn’t mind having another set of hands around the armory at all, especially with the background shane mentioned you had.”

you purse your lips. “thanks. could we talk about this another time? maybe after the weekend? i’ll stop by.” you gesture to the little girl on your hip. “it’s just that i want to get her down now so her routine isn’t all out of whack later tonight.”

olivia nods, glasses bouncing a bit. “of course. come see me whenever you’re ready.”

you’re smiling and thanking her again before crossing the threshold with a huffy chest. it takes patience on your part not to slam the door but with judith in your arms, you slowly close it.

why would shane sign you up to work in the armory? is he stupid? you ponder. he didn’t even ask if you wanted to do something like that. you dismiss the thought the best you can and just focus on getting judith to sleep.

thank god for the blackout curtains jessie had sent over. judith sleeps like the dead with those things drawn.

a little rocking and the dark room do well to help the infant fall asleep in no time. that allows you to meander down the living room and hear the door swinging open.

"babe, we're back.”

you perk your head up when you see shane and rick come through the door. “hey, guys,” you forget to ask them how their day’s been when you see their new uniforms.

you have to pick up your jaw when you see the two men dressed in matching constable’s uniforms. you and shane hadn’t been dating for long when the world went to shit. he’d met you right after work before, even picked you up in the cruiser before but you forgot how strapping he looked in a uniform. brown and form fitting, you’re thanking the constable’s office inventory for stocking such flattering apparel.

you almost forget the frustration you’re harboring - the anger that had boiled, all because of how his ass looked in those brown fucking slacks.

“good to see you,” rick says with the same tone he had back on the side of the road when he helped you step back into your underwear.

“good to see you too,” you repeat, biting your lip.

a smirk appears on shane’s lips once he realizes you’re checking out their asses as you take their coats.

"why don't you head upstairs? we'll be up in a few minutes."

you nearly drop the jackets from your arms. “for what?” you ask, playing dumb.

rick is wordless and shane just smiles at you, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “you’ll see. we’ll see you soon enough.”

the bedroom is your next destination.

you’re tiptoeing up the stairs as not to disrupt nap time. those light treading feet are carrying you straight to the bed where you crumple into the comforter.

long was your day, longer would be your night. this is by virtue of the fact that you’ll have to ask shane about why olivia was about to onboard you to work in alexandria’s armory. and you’ll probably get split in half by an eight inch cock by the end of the night. you decide to put off your conversation with shane when your mind wanders to the newly clean shaven constable downstairs.

god, did he fit those pants wonderfully.

the man had been on your mind ever since this situationship of sorts emerged between the three of you - sans labels. awkward as it seemed, given all of your histories.

and then there’s shane.

don’t get you wrong, shane would give you the world if he could. whatever it would take to keep you nice and happy and purring “yes, shane” at his every word. he goes to greater lengths not just for your safety but for your convenience.

the man who’d circled back on a run after realizing he didn’t bring back your favorite brand of tampons. then again when the tampons be found had cardboard applicators. the one who held you at night in your shared cell back at the prison, kissed you and petted your hair, nuzzling as close as possible and telling you it would be alright. the man who trusted you to take care of his baby girl.

the one who had taken the time to give you not one but multiple masterclasses on firearms, shooting, and gun maintenance. he insisted that you know how to take care of yourself if it ever came down to and it boy, had it come down to it. more than once, you’d found yourself aiming your pistol and being forced to make a split second decision. the same man embraced you and reassured you in the aftermath of your beretta’s rounds claiming your first non-walker kill.

the man who’s about to fuck you into the mattress with his best friend.

you try to hold onto that thought as you shimmy out of the blue levi’s, deserting them on the floor thoughtlessly in search something cozier. digging through shane’s newly filled dresser drawers seems like an easy enough solution.

speak of the devil, he walks in with rick while you’re appraising a pair of gray sweatpants with a georgetown insignia on them.

“thought you had your own sweats.” shane’s behind you in an instant. just like rick, he’d noticed the way your sweatshirt falls to your thighs. “why don’t you just save those for later and let me help you take the rest off, huh?”

a telltale smirk takes over your face. a slant back into shane tells him all he needs to know.

he waits to toss you over his shoulder and situate you on the bed before he's yanking your boy briefs down your legs and brushing your clit with his fat finger. it's only natural that he's chuckling into your skin when you tense beneath him. prodding and playing with your newly awakened nerves, shane still managed to signal rick over to begin a maddening campaign, attacking your flush skin with their lips.

the lips on your that skin feel so deliciously inviting that you disregard how tender they turn you.

of course, shane is the one that can’t stand to wait.

“down you go, pretty girl.”

in an instant, he’s behind you with a finger in your pussy. you want to be upset that he's not still paying attention to the blushed out surface of your body but you’re too preoccupied with the hand in between your shoulder blades, encouraging your forearms down to the mattress. shane’s maintaining his grip on your hips and propping them up to send your ass straight towards the ceiling.

the moment that you feel a warm tongue, licking painfully slowly, and thoroughly towards your center, your hips jerk. shane is already bracing them, cooing, “easy, girl,” into your thigh before continuing the languid assault on your lips.

the lips on your face are pecked, if only briefly, by your boyfriend’s former crimefighting partner. licking your lips, you’re wishing he would circle back to connect your mouths again when a sharp sting interrupts your thoughts.

“fuck!” you cry into the comforter.

the obvious culprit is already testing the skin of your ass with his palm again. another yelp has blue eyes boring down, as if trying to memorize each moment you react - so expressively - to shane’s ministrations.

“what was that for?” you question, rotating your head to stealth a glance at him.

“fun.”

you’re about to tell shane about his idea of fun before a final slap and a sudden return to teasing your core spurs you away from the thought. pressure and heat course through you; shane just raises your internal temperature with a purposeful finger. you're whimpering at just the first stretch. past your throbbing rings of muscle, shane weaves a path with a single finger.

a heaved out moan has shane licking his lips. “gettin’ worked up off my fingers, baby?”

you nod. without a doubt.

another finger continues the mission of prying your tight cunt open for the men that would be taking turns with you until you’d come all over both their cocks. knuckle deep inside of you, the pressure is going to kill you before that third finger does.

“shane,” you’re hissing when he adopts a pace that has you clawing at his two fingers. “why are you being so aggressive with your fingers?”

“weren’t you complainin’ that it was ‘too much,’” he denotes with air quotes, “last time?”

rick seems to give you some breathing room at his friend’s taunt. he slinks back like his massive cock wasn’t the reason you’d been a sobbing mess in cowgirl on top of him the night before your group had reached noah’s old community in richmond.

you’d come so pornographically hard around him that you swear it’d been in your top five orgasms. but your cervix was still shot.

rick felt guilty. so guilty that he hasn’t fucked you since. only your mouth. of course he treated you to his mouth, his perfect tongue and his hands but you crave him inside of you. the thought of it with shane’s two pronged touch has you nearly grinding up the bed.

“fuck, shane,” you’re mumbling into the comforter, fists clenching when another finger worms into you.

“you ‘bout ready, baby?” shane asks, placing a strategic stripe down your clit as he fully buries his middle three fingers in you.

“mhmm.”

“wanna ask?”

a steady sentence isn’t going to come out of your mouth with how shane’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “please,” you sputter when he entrenches his fingers deeper inside of you.

“what was that?” the condescension in his voice has you squelching around his fast moving fingers.

you’re blushing at rick who has a hand on his cock and is staring straight into your teary eyes. “i want you to fuck me now, shane.” you don’t break eye contact with rick. “please.”

another smack lands on your reddening backside and suddenly those pleasure granting fingers are digging into your hip and you feel shane’s girth at your entrance.

“what do you want, baby?” shane asks. “you want me to fill you up?”

“yes, i want it so bad,” you’re begging through pouted lips.

rick doesn’t miss your doe eyes or how you moan shane’s name as he fulfills your fucked out request and fills you. even someone in the hallway can hear the wet sound from shane teasing your leaking cunt.

a few experimental strokes and shane is already balls deep. he didn’t heed the same new code of chivalry rick had adopted upon finding a hint of blood on the tip of his dick. that experience made you want to pull your hair out. stupid fucking cervix, you’d thought, ruining me getting fucked. rick didn’t usually treat you to such a pounding but the road did that to one. besides, he was freshly addicted to your cunt.

the electric feeling from how he’d taken you with shane that first time reignite as your boyfriend adjusts himself to brush against your g-spot. the fucked out look on your face can’t be missed as you let shane shovel his hips into you and closer to the only finish line you’d ever had no problem crossing. just like rick had plowed you into the mattress of the barracks you’d all stayed at in norfolk.

these thoughts of rick can’t escape you - even with shane groaning your name. the swats to your ass just go straight to your cunt and do little to rouse you from your daydreaming about the man lining himself up with your mouth.

yeah, you’re out of your mind already and he doesn’t even have his dick inside of you again.

“so good for me, baby,” shane’s gasping, his hand sliding down your ass to brace your thigh and fuck you deeper. “so good for us.”

rick nods, fingers pushing your hair out of your face and letting you take your time with him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and rock forward with shane when he cants into you. he’s gazing down at you as if this is the prettiest he’s ever seen you.

you could keep your eyes on him forever if it weren’t for the orgasm searing through you. it’d built up as you backed into shane and imagined how full rick would have you feeling - how connected, how close you’d feel with him inside of you.

“should’ve knocked you up back at the farm.”

god, that would’ve been inconvenient. you just focus on the pleasure you’re receiving and how you’re in alexandria with two men amazingly attractive men. it’s not the time but then again, shane doesn’t give you much of a choice with how revved up this whole coming in you business seems to be getting him. you can’t lie; it’s affecting you too.

so much that you’re nearly protesting when rick withdraws his twitching cock from between your lush lips, less than when shane pulls out of you. you won’t be protesting about what comes next though.

the first time rick had fucked your pussy you’d been whining, and you’re doing the same thing now.

“you wanna get on top?” shane questions, requiring you to repeat yourself before rick leans against the headboard.

still snickering at the whine that came out of you, your boyfriend helps to lift you and lower your hips onto rick who’s sprawled on his back, bronzed curls against the propped up pillow. rick hisses when his tip makes contact with your drowning heat again.

shane doesn’t waste any time. his hands are off you so he can situate himself on the bed to accommodate the best view of you two.

unfortunately, you’re not in shane’s lap so rick has him beat for the best seat in the house. or do you hold that seat?

your boyfriend hadn’t seemed too worried about you sliding too far down onto rick but rick was. his hands are firm on your hips - holding them in a semi-permanent place, only maneuvering for you as you rotate your hips down onto him.

“rick,” you rasp, wrapping your arms around his neck. you want to hear more from him so badly - to hear him panting your name. that’s your goal when you hurry your hips against him. you can tell that he’s hesitating, holding you back at first until you wiggle enough for him to allow you to break free.

grinding onto him, you watch a puffed out series of breaths escape his mouth. not missing a beat, you reposition your hips to sink deeper, hissing with rick and leaning into him. that’s when your clit begins to explode with pleasure from the friction.

“fuck,” you’re chanting. “fuck, that’s good. feels so good. fuck. fuck, that’s perfect.”

“dirty girl.” shane is teasing.

“just feels so fuckin’ good,” you’re twisting on top of rick, angling yourself against his pulsing member to stimulate all the perfect parts of your pelvis.

“is rick fucking you good, honey?”

you nod, having been given full license to be honest about how rick is making you gush.

“how good?” shane asks, hazel eyes on you while you ride rick.

your lip quivers. you feel rick thrum inside of you. “soooo good.” you’re saying in the lust addled way only you would. “you both make me feel so on.”

shane’s cock jumps and rick is picking up the pace. whatever motion your clit’s endured against rick is nothing once he crescents his fingertips into your sides. nice and deep, rick is threatening your cervix again but you don’t need to worry because he’s just taking the scenic route to your g-spot.

the same spot that’s making your toes curl and you chant for rick. “i’m close again,” you warn him. your head is falling onto his shoulder, blocking shane from view.

“you’ve got it, almost there, sweetheart,” rick rumbles into your ear.

his now gravelly voice against your ear has your cunt tightening. teeth pressed into your shoulder, you yelp and moan when rick brushes the flesh of your skin with his teeth. the purple marks being sown onto you will bloom later on but you don’t mind. not when your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering, “god, rick, you make me feel so fucking good.”

and suddenly you’re being fucked through your orgasm face down.

“so jessie cut your hair?”

rick nods and you’re hyper aware of how short his hair is. he’s so polished too. not that it’s terribly difficult to be after traveling on the road for so long.

“i liked your long hair. you should grow it out again.”

the new constable raises an eyebrow, leaning up on his forearms to sit up. “gotta’ shape up at some point.”

you would argue but shane’s distracting you with kisses to your shoulders and promises of morning sex already. you’re not distracted enough to miss rick’s weight absent from the pliable surface.

rick rises from the bed and you whine.

“i want rick to stay.”

shane scoffs. he extends his brawny arms across the bed. “baby, there’s barely enough room in the bed for the two of us.”

you shake your head, sitting up on your knees. “i think we can make it work. please,” you take a breath. “i just feel safer with you two in bed.”

“honey, there’s no room.”

“okay, i’ll just sleep on top of him then.”

you end up basically on top of rick - not that he minds. the night is spent with cuddled up into his chest; shane cupping the occasional hand around the curve of your ass.

weirdly, you’re falling asleep in no time. the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulls you. sleeping on top of rick might have to become a part of your bedtime routine.

shane wants you to pull a hostile takeover of the armory.

you stand with your arms crossed, giving the man one of your signature frowns. "why would i want to keep an eye on olivia in the armory?"

shane looks at you as if it's obvious. "it's good to have a hand on things," he explains, sighing your name. "it's good to have someone on the inside, in case..."

"-in case what?" you question.

shane stares at his feet.

you smolder. "you seriously can't be expecting to have to seize their guns, shane. we just got here for christ's sake."

"it's not even like that, baby," shane says, trying to walk back his conspiracy plots from you. “i just would feel better having you there. besides, it’s not like it’d be all the time and you could learn more about gun storage, whatever you want now

“that doesn’t sound like whatever i want, it sounds like you’re shoving me in the armory.”

“baby, you don’t have to do anything, i’m just sayin’-,”

“i’ll work in the armory if you stop giving me shit about going hunting.”

shane frowns af you. “now, you know that’s different.”

you cross your arms. “it’s not. i need a change of scenery, maybe some greenery to be specific.”

shane presses a flexed hand against the wainscoting he’s leaned up against. he shakes his head. “maybe once we know things are stable here, but for right now these people are far less capable than we are. i’d feel better with you in the armory.”

you want to ask him to consider what you want for a change. you honestly want to tell him to go fuck himself but then you remember.

ah, the thing that you want. the man that you want. the man you can only have with shane’s smirking approval.

so you just smile, walk over and take him by surprise, planting a kiss on cheek and telling him you’ll start tomorrow. it’ll all pay off in the long run.

the welcome party is a success.

if not for the fact that shane didn’t kill spencer just for saying hello to you, then for the fact that you got trashed.

so trashed that rick had ended up hauling your ass home when you hurled in one of deanna’s planters and shane was too embroiled in a push-up contest with abraham to even think about heading home. not that shane had ended up any better. the man drank so much johnny walker that even he came home and passed out face first in the bed bedside you.

you’re hungover the next morning, so hungover that rick moved you out of shane’s bed and into his to hang off the edge and puke your guts up.

rick even roped carol into coming over to cook and watch judith while you and shane recovered.

he even brings you soup.

“damn, look who’s still out of it.”

seems shane had recovered.

“she drinks like she’s still in kappa delta.”

rick rubs a circle or two into your back. “what’d you say? you won’t puke all over your bed, will ya’?”

when you’re well enough, you patter downstairs

“you’re looking better.”

“thanks, carol,” you return her jab with a wry smile.

“so,” the gray haired woman braces her hands on the picnic table at the base of the orchard. “are you going to help me with these apricots are what?” your gaze falls from the woman to her basket and circles back to the trees overhead. “the apricots came in early here. what do you think of apricots in march?”

you shrug. “i really don’t know much about fruits,” you admit as you take the chestnut colored basket into your hand.

it’s so odd seeing carol in her little pseudo-mr. rogers act, costume and all. the cardigan and capris paint a picture of the picture homemaker - a real martha stewart type.

and one of the most tactful, five steps ahead of you types that you’d ever met.

you wonder if this carol had laid dormant for some years.

the two of you work through the trees, plucking the precious fruit that was ready for harvest and leaving the rest.

“so, you having fun playing house?”

your mouth gapes open. you nearly drop your basket and waste quite a lot of apricots.

carol snorts at you. “i’m just kidding.” she sends you a look like you’re incredulous or something. “do what you want.” you pluck an apricot from the tree before you. gossamer head tilting when your apricot picking partner speaks again. “but just keep your priorities straight.”

you stiffen. that’s not what you were expecting. maybe some more sage or cunning advice is what you thought would be coming out of her mouth. priorities? you don’t wanna think about them. the priorities that you’ve been saddled with.

you moan someone about your hangover and muddle through the rest of your apricot picking, trying to keep your mind from defining your priorities.

the two of you part when at the sidewalk in front of your porch, with her last words to you being:

“you be careful.”

“gonna have to go out and find a king sized bed if rick’s gonna be stayin’ over this often.” shane comments and rolls onto his side to face you.

you shrug. “i’m fine with the arrangement the way it is.”

“yeah? sleeping on top of rick?”

you continue brushing your hair. “beds are hard to come by, especially great gigantic sized beds.”

“i’m sure there’s a king somewhere.”

“yeah.”

shane’s eyes don’t leave you as you set your hairbrush down on the vanity and tie it back. he’s even closer once you settle into your spot on the mattress. arms clutch you into him and lazy patterns begin to materialize on your skin, from massages into the nap of your neck to a dull squeeze of your ass. it makes you feel easy - subdued almost by shane’s unhurried touch. but you’re still wound up. you don’t know how you can be anything else nowadays.

"night, baby," shane mumbles into your ear.

"night." you reply, eyes focused on the single beam of moonlight tumbling through the window.

with rick down the hall, you won’t be sleeping tonight.

[gohyuck]

King of Hearts - LJN. 01.

detective!jeno 

word count: 3.8k

part of a series?: yes, this is the 1st installment

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of murder, usage of weapons commonly attributed to law enforcement

notes: everyone’s aged up, obviously (setting their birth years back by a solid amount), detective!00/01/02 and captain!mark, captain’s secretary!reader, pay attention to timestamps. draws pretty heavily from brooklyn 99 but is a lot less funny and a lot more angsty

tell me if i should continue this with a part 2!

[Wednesday, September 25, 2019 at 10:22 P.M.]

“An abandoned warehouse,” Jaemin murmurs disdainfully, adjusting his bulletproof vest. He pulls his gun from its holster, checking the safety before relaxing into his hold. “When did criminals get so cliché?”  

“That is so not important right now,” Renjun hisses in response, shooting a quick, worried glance at Jeno, who’s standing as still as a statue some yards away, features balanced between being angry, afraid, and determined. “You should go check on him, dude.” He turns back to Jaemin, gesturing towards their friend with a slight tilt of his head. Jaemin rolls his eyes, though not before nodding in agreement. Before he can even think about approaching his best friend, though, Jeno moves to walk up to the side entrance they’re all gathered around. 

Everyone waits for him to speak with bated breath. They all notice the King of Hearts stuck to the top of the door, though nobody mentions it. 

“I can shoulder through,” Jeno finally whispers after appraising the state of the rotting, wooden door they’re faced with. “Renjun on my right, Hyuck can take left. Jaemin, with me - we’ll go straight to the hostage. Chenle, with Renjun. Jisung, go with Hyuck. All of you - if anything happens, radio back to me and then call Mark. The other squad is already inside on the other end, so we’ll probably end up meeting them somewhere in the middle.”

“What about calling for back-up?” Jisung asks, ignoring the air of finality that comes with Jeno’s words. The elder chews on his lower lip for a moment. 

“The less people there are involved in this, the better.” He decides, and Jisung and Chenle share a glance before nodding an affirmation of their understanding. With this, everyone gets in position, their vests properly strapped on, guns in hand, and their sense of duty at ready. 

“On 3,” Jeno whispers, looking around at his team once more to steady himself. “One… two…” Jeno solidifies his stance, leaning towards the door. Everyone else inches closer, shoulders tightening and eyes filling with resolve. “Three.” Jeno says after what feels like aeons, and, in what feels eerily as if its in slow motion to everyone else, subsequently breaks the door clean off its hinges with all of the power in his body. 

The six of them file in, and Donghyuck and Renjun split off as they’re supposed to, taking their partners with them. Jaemin comes up behind Jeno, shooting his friend a - hopefully - reassuring smile before they start to make their way straight through the maze of boxes that awaits them. 

There’s nothing - no creaks, no footsteps, no hushed whispers - as the two of them walk through towards the center. The moonlight filters in through the small windows at the top of the building, illuminating the warehouse well enough to avoid using flashlights. Jeno and Jaemin remain careful, taking in everything and filing small things they notice away in the back of their minds for later. It isn’t until they reach the clearing in what they believe to be the middle of the whole warehouse that anything substantial really happens. 

“Might’ve been a bad tip,” Jaemin finally sighs, lowering his gun ever-so-slightly. Jeno says nothing, his face stony. “I’m sorry, man, but (Name) isn’t here -”

“Jeno?”

Both officers whirl around, Jaemin cocking his gun on instinct. When he sees that it’s you, he lowers it, straightening up onto his feet and furrowing his brows as he does. 

“(Name)?” Jeno speaks, your name falling, breathy, off of his lips. You look entirely different from how you’d been just days ago - your eyes look empty, and there’s fear replacing your usual teasing manner. 

“You shouldn’t be here, Jeno, it’s dangerous -” When you speak again your words are rushed, your weariness and terror evident in your inflection. Your voice rises in pitch and volume before being interrupted by Jeno.

“I’m a cop -”

“Guys -” Jaemin cuts in, though he barely gets out a word before being stopped himself.

“I see you’ve found your precious witness,” A voice interrupts the detective, and Jeno pulls you into his hold on instinct. He ignores how you’re shaking, knowing that if he dwells on it he’ll be too angry to do his job. The three of you turn around - albeit slowly - and find yourselves face-to-face with a figure in all black, mask and all. 

They pull a deck of cards from what seems to be out of thin air and sits down, patting the floor next to it. Jeno and Jaemin, pulling themselves out of their dumbfoundedness, both pull out their guns, pointing it at the silhouette. 

The figure laughs. 

“See this right here?” They ask, drawing forth what seems to be a small remote. “You make any move to shoot, I’ll press the button. It has a ten second count-down, and then the bomb in this building will explode. It’s in one of the boxes in this place - I doubt you’ll find it, no matter how hard you look. Instead, how about you all sit.” They gesture for all of you to sit down again, taking the cards out of their box as they do so. You sit down, and Jeno, his eyes trained on you, follows. Jaemin does so as well, his gaze never leaving the criminal before the three of you. 

The masked figure laughs, the kind of laugh that feels like nails dragging across a chalkboard. Jeno pulls you closer, and you find yourself clutching at the fabric of his pants to root yourself. The figure begins shuffling the cards, and the three of you wait anxiously for your kidnapper to speak.

You all know what will be said, but their words strike fear through your hearts anyways.  

“How about… we all play a game together?” 

[Friday, September 6, 2019 at 5:16 A.M.]

“You know how I said that the night shift sucks?” Mark asks, receiving a chorus of stifled yawns and “Amen”s in response. The grin he sends back reflects nothing of his subordinates’ feelings. 

“I was wrong.” His smile stretches even wider as he hops off of the desk at the front of the briefing room, throwing a case file down onto the space he’d previously occupied. “We have a serial killer on our hands.” 

“Wait, for real?” Donghyuck perks up immediately, all traces of exhaustion magically gone from his face. Even Jisung looks slightly more awake after their Captain’s declaration, and that’s truly saying something.

“Right? But, wait!” Mark exclaims as if he’s a commentator from an as-seen-on-TV ad, spreading his hands out. “There’s more.”

Nobody says anything at this, though pretty much everyone noticeably leans forward. Mark leans towards them too, building suspense, before turning around and turning the TV on. A smattering of different years shows up on-screen, seven dates from between 1994 and 2019.

Everyone waits. The Captain glances at his team expectantly, excitement glimmering almost maniacally in his sleep-deprived eyes.

“Mark,” You finally break the pregnant pause, figuring that it’s you doing your due diligence as secretary to the Captain. “You have a call incoming at 6 from HQ. It’s best to just get into it.”

“Right,” Mark nods, wincing at your reminder. There’s nothing he loves more than some good suspense, and nothing he hates more than imminent tongue-lashings from his higher-ups. “Anyways, guys, these are the years that this specific killer has struck. It’s a 25 year old case!”

A low whistle follows immediately, courtesy of Jaemin. Chenle raises one eyebrow while Jisung raises the other. 

“Totally unsolved?” Jeno questions from the back, and Mark nods. 

“Yeah - but there’s still more to come. Just wait until you see their modus operandi.” The Captain clicks through to the next slide, revealing a picture of a blood-stained carpet. A leg of what must be a coffee table is barely noticeable in one corner of the image, and a pale hand clutching a shattered wine glass fills a quarter of the frame. The true focus, however, lies on what’s dead center in the photograph - a white King of Hearts playing card, tinged red with blood at its edges. 

Nobody notices the color draining from your face, and not one person sees the way you step back and clutch the table behind you to steady yourself. You let out a small, shaky breath before doing your best to compose yourself. Meanwhile, Mark has moved on with the briefing.

“- all have gunshot wounds to the chest, everything suggests from a point blank range. Different gun every time, but that’s likely just to throw us off. No finger-prints anywhere, no working security cameras for half of the murders. If there were any, they were all redirected somehow throughout the duration of each crime - all we have is this short clip of someone dressed in all black entering from the 2002 house.”

Your breath hitches yet again, and, this time, you fathom your oncoming panic attack. Setting your clipboard and files down onto the tables you’re leaning against, you wait until Mark’s back is turned and everyone else is talking amongst themselves to slip out of the briefing room. If anyone notices, they’ll chalk it off to a bathroom break or something of the sort - you’re sure of this. They might be detectives, but they generally don’t find things they aren’t searching for.

Armed with this knowledge, you make it out of the room smoothly, managing to rush into the nearest bathroom before your panic sets in. As you’d expected, only one person notices your departure.

Jeno sees your hands shaking and registers the way you’re chewing on your bottom lip. It’s something you do when you’re worried, or nervous, or afraid, or all of the above. You’ve done it without knowing about it for years, now. He does his best not to stare at you as you rush out, though he can’t keep his own perturbation hidden nearly as well as he wishes he could.

“Eyes on the board, lover boy,” Jaemin leans in, whispering almost conspiratorially in his partner’s ear. “You can stare at (Name) all you want later. It’s murder time now.”  

Jeno furrows his brows at his best friend’s wording, but shoots him a sheepish smile anyways. He shakes off the unease that’s settled on his shoulders, though he makes a note of seeing how you’re doing before you both get off shift. 

[Friday, September 6, 2019 at 7:04 A.M.]

“(Name)!” You turn around to see your boyfriend barrelling towards you outside your precinct’s office, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your features upon seeing him. Before you can respond, he catches up to you, lacing your fingers in his. 

“We should get breakfast,” Jeno says, and he sounds so excited about the prospect that you feel even worse than before when you shake your head in disagreement, pulling him closer as you do. Both of you ignore how your smile falls quicker than it ever has before.

“I think I should just get back to my apartment, Jen,” His nickname falls from your lips easily as you sigh a response, mustering as bright a grin as you can when you look up at him. “Today sucked the soul out of me.”

“The night shift sucks ass,” He agrees, not questioning you. Jeno’s always been understanding, even if he isn’t aware of it. He withdraws his hand from your grip, opting instead to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into his side. “I hope we’ll get back to our regular scheduling soon.”

You snort at this. 

“Not fucking likely, babe. Chief Lee walked in on Mark mimicking his dance from this year’s Captains’ Fourth of July party, remember? Lee also heard Doyoung say, and I quote, ‘it’s like that one video of that little green alien dancing to, like, super funky background music except the alien actually had talent’.” 

Jeno lets out a loud, snorting laugh - the kind that makes his eyes draw themselves into crescent moons and his nose scrunch up in happiness. If you had to pick one sound to hear for the rest of your life, it would be this - Jeno’s genuine laugh, the one he reserves for you and others who love him. You take note of how he hasn’t asked you about how you’d left the briefing earlier, finding yourself hoping that he hadn’t noticed at all. 

He hasn’t questioned you about it, so you assume he hadn’t. One bullet dodged there, at least. You’ve never been good at keeping your hardships away from your boyfriend - he insists on shouldering your burdens on top of his. You don’t let yourself dwell on this, shoving the serial killer case on hand out of your mind from the time being, no matter how difficult you find it. Rather, for the rest of the walk down to the subway, you focus on talking and laughing with Jeno. 

Once you both reach your platform - he’d insisted on walking you to it right after buying you a coffee from an on-the-way Starbucks - you give Jeno a quick, chaste kiss before turning towards the train that’s pulling in. Before he leaves to find his own platform, he leans close to peck your cheek. Right before he steps back, and right as the doors to your train open, he moves his lips to dwell by your ear. 

“When you’re ready to tell me what’s bothering you, I’m here. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you!” 

You whirl around to respond, eyes wider than you’d like them to be. Jeno, however, is already halfway up the staircase. He shoots you a bright smile before motioning you backwards as if to tell you to get on your train. Then, as quickly as he’d managed to walk away from you, he’s gone, too far aboveground for you to see him. 

The doors close right behind you, and the metal pole you hold on to for stability as the train jolts back to life feels colder than usual.

Maybe Jeno’s observation is a force to be reckoned with. 

[Saturday, September 7, 2019 at 8:02 P.M.]

“We could’ve just stayed in, you know.” You tease, your words soft and lilting against Jeno’s muttered swears. The man in question dabs haphazardly at his lap with a napkin, and you cover your mouth with your hands while you chuckle so as not to agitate him even more. He manages to get most of the sauce off of his slacks, though it does leave an oddly shaped stain - as you turn your head, you realize that it almost looks like Australia. 

You tell him so.

“You suck,” Your boyfriend throws back at you, brows furrowed. He isn’t angry - the softness in his eyes gives this away. Rather than respond, you raise your wine glass in a toast and Jeno, though with confusion scrawled across his face, raises his in return. 

“To slacks with sauce and nights with…” You pause, and Jeno raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. A thought strikes you, and you have to bite down on your lower lip to keep from laughing. “...with Nono.” 

Before he can react, you knock your glass lightly against Jeno’s, leaning back in your chair before downing half of the wine you have. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, sets his glass down, dumbfounded, before placing his face in his hands and groaning. 

“That’s literally the dumbest nickname - you’ve been hanging out with Jaemin too much, haven’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say too much,” You grin, leaning close to set your own glass down. Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you pull them gently away from his face. You’re pleased to see a soft blush spreading across his otherwise sharp features - not everyone can fluster a bigshot detective, after all. You almost feel as if you have a super power. 

“Yeah?” Jeno asks, his voice less inquisitive than it is teasing, playful. He leans in, too, and as his blush dies down yours only grows. “What do you two talk about?” 

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards at this - Jeno, unknowingly, has thrown the ball back in your court. All you have to do now is hit an ace.

“Nothing too interesting, you know,” You say, voice equally light. One of your fingers finds the rim of your glass, idly tracing it as you speak. “Just about the fifth grade adventures of Nana and Nono.” 

Jeno groans again, pushing his chair back enough to rest his forehead against the table. Across from him, you burst into quiet laughter before taking another sip of wine. Ragging on Jeno is your favorite pastime, and you’re sure he knows it. 

“I’ll kick Jaemin’s -” A siren blasting from outside interrupts Jeno, and, before he can continue, two more - now, three more - join it. Before either of you can react, your boyfriend gets a text. He reads it quickly, his jaw tightening as he skims the message. 

“Jeno?” You find it in yourself to ask, receiving a heavy sigh in return. He sets his phone down and stands up to pull out his wallet, taking his Visa credit card from it before reaching his hand out to give it to you. You take it, letting it dangle between two fingers. 

“Dinner’s on me, darling,” He musters a small smile before leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “Give it back to me tomorrow, or something.”

Jeno’s gone before you can badger him further, the only proof of him having been there at all resting between your index and middle fingers and on one of his pant legs. You find that you aren’t in the mood to finish eating your meal, opting instead to wave over the closest server you can so you can get the bill, all while ignoring the pitying glances from everyone at surrounding tables. 

Once the check comes out, you slide Jeno’s card into your wallet, pulling out your own to pay with.

The wincing sympathy in the air around you amplifies. You continue to ignore it. 

[Monday, September 9, 2019 at 11:03 P.M.]

A short but resounding thud in front of you draws your attention away from poring over Mark’s schedule. You look up to see Jeno, armed with a steaming cup of coffee in each hand and a sheepish smile. He’d put your order down on your desk, resulting in the sound you’d just heard, but hadn’t taken his hand off of it. 

You don’t take it from him - instead, you pull your wallet out of your purse, rifling through it quickly before finding Jeno’s credit card and putting your hand out towards him. Jeno doesn’t take it. Rather, he lets go of your cup, pulling out his own wallet with his now-free hand and giving it to you so you can do the honors. 

“Didn’t seem to get charged for dinner,” He mentions casually as he shoves his wallet back into the back pocket of his work slacks. You nod, confirming his unasked question before turning back to your computer. For some reason, your eyes can’t focus as they had been before. You minimize Mark’s schedule, leaving you staring at your background - a picture of Jeno you’d snuck during your first date together. He’s staring out the window of a cafe in it, white sweater sleeves pulled up around his hands that are, in turn, cradling a cup of coffee. The smallest, but most genuine, of smiles graces his lips, and his cheekbones are highlighted by the light filtering in beside him. He looks angelic and too good to be true in it.

Maybe he is.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me,” He tries again, and you look up at him again. Warmth lingers in his demeanor, but an annoyance is starting to overpower it. You find yourself ticked off, too, and roll your eyes rather than deigning to talk to him. 

“(Name).”

“Do you need an appointment with the Captain?” 

“I was just doing my job, darling -” 

“I’m not mad at you for stranding me, Jen,” You finally speak, your eyes finally meeting his. He blinks as he registers the hurt in yours, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he does. “I just -” You begin, before sighing and shaking your head. You aren’t sure how to word your feelings. 

“Sweetheart?”

“You left without telling me why, and then you didn’t text me back until almost 24 hours later. I was on edge, wondering if anything had happened to you, and you didn’t even think to check in with me! And when you did, it wasn’t about why you’d left or what had happened, it was to ask me about if I’d seen some random movie trailer!” You take a deep breath, doing your best not to raise your voice in your workplace. Swallowing to calm your dry throat, you start again, whispering this time. “I was worried sick, and you didn’t even think about my feelings long enough to register that.”

“You could’ve texted first -” 

“I did! You never responded.”

“I never got a text from you,” Confusion spreads across Jeno’s features as he pulls his phone out to show you. You take it nimbly from his hand, scrolling quickly through his conversation with you to confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, gotten any texts from you until he had texted you. 

“I didn’t tell you why I’d left because it was classified at the time, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging for too long,” Jeno explains further, but you only barely listen to him, focusing instead on finding your conversation in your own phone. Your boyfriend, recognizing this, speaks no further as he takes his phone back and slips it into one of his pockets. He watches you, intrigue barely concealed within his features. 

Suddenly, your face pales, and you let your phone drop face-up onto the counter in front of you. Jeno’s eyes widen as he reaches across to grab one of your trembling hands, his worry greater than his confusion. 

“(Name)?” 

“It - he -” You manage to speak out before giving a shaky sigh and pausing to swallow the bile that has risen in your throat. “I- I need to tell you something.” You finally gasp out, pointing towards your phone. Jeno glances at it before letting out a noise of shock, his fingers tightening around your own. 

Panic burns in his veins as his mind works overtime to work out the meaning of what he’s witnessing . Rather than seeing your texts as he’d hoped, Jeno finds a black screen staring back up at him. There is just one thing adorning it. 

Dead center is a King of Hearts playing card, the words ‘found you.’ in blood red letters underneath it. It is mocking you, telling you that you are out of time. 

It is telling you that you have lost.

[gaamagirl565]

Matters of the heart S2 EP 8

Matters of the Heart

Season 2 Episode 8 The slithering in the mist {OPENING CREDITS} {open to the cult HQ with Larkspur pacing with a chalice in her hand} Larkspur: Bloody traitor...daring to defy me… Cult member: Mistress? Larkspur: What!? Cult member:...uh...What are you planning to do now? It’s been a week and Noremoth was your second in command… Larkspur: And? Cult member: well he gave the rest of us your commands, Mistress...we want to know, now that Noremoth is...imprisoned...what are our duties? Larkspur:....As much as I hate to admit it...Noremoth was a valued member of the team... I'm beginning to think this has gone on far too long… Cult member: Mistress? Larkspur:  what is your name? Cult member: Vergus...My lady… Larkspur:..well Vergus... I have a little job for you... it's time we got Coronas attention... I have sent messenger bird after messenger bird to the king requesting that we meet and discuss terms but he refuses every single time saying that our terms are...Unagreeable to say the least… Vergus:  what do you expect me to do, mistress? {Larkspur smirks at her drink before turning to him} Larkspur:  make him an offer he can't refuse... if he refuses to meet with us we'll just have to cause a little commotion now won't we? Vergus:  mistress? Larkspur:  I want you to go to Corona... cause some chaos... stir things up a bit... make things a little dangerous so to speak...  that should get the king's attention… Vergus:  And when we do get his attention, mistress? what then? Larkspur:   make sure he finds out who is doing it... make sure he finds you.  and when he does I want you to make sure that he knows this will all simply stop if he just agrees to our terms of meeting... we can all come to a peaceful resolution… Vergus: how far am I allowed to go with this chaos? {Larkspur chuckles} Larkspur: as far as possible…

{Cut to the dungeon}

Noremoth: *hacking and coughing*...ugh

Cassandra: You're not sounding too well… Noremoth:  I'm fine… Cassandra: you're the furthest thing from fine you haven't eaten properly in a few days and they give you the dirtiest water they can... don't think I haven't looked at what they've been giving you. Noremoth:  easy for you to say you're the vessel... They treat you like a queen Cassandra:  and yet I'm locked up like a prisoner... Noremoth: It's a precautionary method... if it means anything I was against it from day one… Cassandra:  tell me something I- Noremoth: Something… Cassandra:  not at all what I meant… if you're so against  some of the things I was doing while under the influence.. and if you're so against some of the things that you seem to be doing... why did you never say anything before? Noremoth:... did I really have a choice?  I tried to stand up for everything we once stood for and look where that got me now.  I've always had a sort of code... an unspoken rule of mine. never hurt women or children. everybody else is fair game… Cassandra: ... you've always had this code? So what happened when we attacked old Corona? Were you taking a coffee break from your morals or something? Noremoth: ughh...please just shut up... any day now... maybe a week from now... who knows. Larkspur is probably going to have my head...I’d just like to enjoy my last days peace... {He rolls over in his cell and coughs some more; Cassandra grimaces and sighs; Cut to Varian on his horse riding through town with Isaiah behind him on his own horse} Isaiah: Whoa! Ah! Varian: *snerk* certainly different than riding in the back of the wagon, huh? Isaiah: definitely... I'm still getting over the fact that I finally have my own horse. Varian: well I figured it was about time... you're 13 years old. if you can wield a sword you can ride a horse... remember to keep your heels down. Isaiah:  fair enough…  oh right, sorry! {They trot up to the castle and a guard stops them} Guard: State your name and business… Varian: Varian, royal engineer...here to see the king. {The guard peers over at Isaiah; Isaiah waves sheepishly} Varian: oh and my son.. Isaiah. Guard:...carry on. {They trot inside and up to the main castle stairs where Eugene and Lily are waiting; Lily bounces on her toes excitedly; Eugene shakes his head with a smile} Varian: easy girl… Isaiah: HEY! Whoa! Wait! Cinder! NO! {Isaiah’s horse doesn’t stop and goes up to a shrub and proceeds to eat off it; Lily snickers loudly} Eugene: Well the royal gardeners are going to be livid… {Varian laughs and dismounts before helping Isaiah down; a stable boy comes over to take their horses} Lily: ‘SAIAH! *she tackles him* Isaiah: OOF!... i missed you too Lily… Eugene: Did you bring the plans? Varian: you know I brought the plans you honestly think I'd forget the one reason I came here? Isaiah: what plans? Eugene: Well while you two are off having fun your dad and I are going to be going through the town thinking of ways we can reinforce our walls and protect the kingdom…Should we be off? Varian:   stay out of trouble Isaiah… Isaiah: can't promise anything! {Isaiah is pulled away by Lily as they run into the castle} Eugene:...they’re good kids.. Varian:..yeah...we got lucky… {fade to them walking in town with Varian looking at blue prints} Varian: As safe as I think Corona is I think we should install some new watchtowers... I've heard of other kingdoms that alert the other guards by lighting a fire on top of the walls.. perhaps we should consider that Eugene:  Varian... may I speak freely around you? Varian:  Of course...team awesome, remember? {Eugene smiles faintly} Eugene:  I'm getting worried... I keep getting messages sent by birds... from The Cult… {Varian is immediately at attention} Eugene: They want to discuss the terms of a meeting… to exchange the Moonstone shard... Varian:  surely you keep telling them no… Eugene: I don't even answer…. but lately they stopped sending their Birds… Varian: Eugene… Eugene: I think they're going to plan something… Varian: E-Eugene? Eugene: I just think we should be prepared for the worst… Varian: your majesty do you smell that!? {Eugene sniffs the air and his eyes dilate in terror} Eugene:... fire! {They both run down the road where some citizens are beginning to run the other way while others run for pails of water; they approach a large house connected to a small business that’s becoming engulfed in flames} Varian: OH MY G- What happened!? Villager 1: WE DON’T KNOW! Villager 2: We think there is some people still trapped inside!  it just suddenly caught fire! Eugene: Varian!  help them put it out! Varian: What about y- {Eugene runs to the blazing house} Varian: EUGENE!? {Varian gets a determined look as he takes out some of his bath bombs and throws them at the fire; they explode and coat the fire in water and soap bubbles, extinguishing some of the flames} Varian: Come on, Eugene… {the wood cracks and the house begins to groan} Varian:....no...EVERYONE BACK IT’S GONNA FALL! EUGENE!!! {Eugene barrels out of the house singed and with a small girl in his arms and a young boy behind him; Varian rushes over and takes the boy as they run from the house; it makes one last groan as the wood cracks and the roof caves in on the flames} Varian:....Is everyone okay? {The children nod as their parents run up to hold them} Mother: Thank you, your majesty… Eugene: Your welco-urgh! Varian: Eugene! {Eugene grips his arm as he kneels on the ground, his clothes covered in soot and burnt at the edges; Varian runs over and moves his hand to reveal a serious 2nd-degree burn} Varian: Yikes...that's a super bad burn. Eugene: yeah feels like it…must have happened when the house was starting to collapse... Varian:  or you know when you barreled into the house... that was on fire... warn me next time you're going to do that, eh? Eugene: hey, you know I’m the heroic one! Varian: Whatever you say...c’mon let’s get that wound dressed… {Varian grunts as he helps Eugene to his feet; once he’s up he looks over towards an alleyway briefly but does a double-take} Varian: you okay? Eugene: over there… {Varian looks and catches a glimpse of someone in a cloak by the ally way} Varian: what in the… {The figure starts to walk away} Eugene: HEY! Stop! {Eugene takes off after them} Varian: E-Eugene! Wha-!? Oh c’mon! {Varian joins the pursuit} Eugene: STOP! {Varian stops to pant leaning against a wall; he notices the wall and gets an idea; he smirks and giggles; taking out one of his goo bombs and punctures the sphere and spreads the goo on his gloves} Varian: Here goes nothing! {He grips onto the wall and starts climbing up to the top; once on the roof he takes a minute to look back before taking off, jumping from roof to roof} Varian: heh...still got it. {As Eugene pursues on the ground he looks up and sees Varian pursuing above} Eugene:..show off! Varian: Look who’s talking! {Varian is finally gaining on the cloaked figure and runs over to the edge of a roof and jumps off, diving at the person; he tackles him harshly and the somersault into some wooden crates and boxes} Varian: ugghh...oh my back...bad idea… Eugene: Varian! Are you alright? Your head is bleeding! Varian: Don’t tell me that! You want me to faint right now? Vergus: ughh… {Eugene walks over and grabs Vergus ripping off his cloak} Eugene: WHO ARE YOU!? Vergus: What a temper your majesty… Varian: You will answer the King with respect! Who are you!? Vergus: My name is Vergus...I represent Mistress Larkspur. Varian: Larkspur!? What does she want? Vergus: This king has refused to answer her messages about an exchange. Varian: There will be no exchange! Your terms are ridiculous! Vergus:   I don't see what's ridiculous about it. Eugene:  you want to exchange a boy for the Moonstone shard… Vergus:  tell me... your son's power is increasing isn't it? it's getting harder for him to control right? Varian:  leave him out of this… Vergus:  does he have moments where it completely overtakes him... he completely loses his Consciousness and becomes somewhat of another being hell-bent on destruction? Eugene: what are you getting at? Vergus:  as we told you before in our messages the Zhan tiri’s power is unstable without the existence of the Sun Drop and the moonstone... and there's only barely one of them left... we have means  of ridding the boy of this power without killing him.  we are willing to save your precious little boy In exchange for The Shard...  to us it seems like perfectly reasonable terms... Eugene: How could we ever trust you won't just kill us and take the shard? Vergus:  well that's simply not done now is it?  believe it or not we do have a sense of decorum when it comes to these things. Eugene: like setting innocent civilians’ houses on fire!? Vergus: that was merely to get your attention and show that we mean business... we’re willing to make a trade but we're not going to be walked all over... we still have the power to kill many of your innocent citizens... it just doesn't make sense to me though… Varian:  what? Vergus:  we're willing to save your son... and yet you refuse because it would mean giving up the moonstone shard.  tell me, Alchemist... do you truly care for your son? {Varian slams him up against a wall pinning him by placing an arm over his throat} Vergus: Ack! Eugene: Varian! Varian: I dare you to say that again… Vergus:.. I just think it's odd... you're willing to put the kingdom before your own flesh and blood... but then again you made a different choice before haven't you?  didn't turn out so well last time. {Varian’s eyes show pure rage as he presses his weight on his neck; Vergus begins to choke} Eugene: Varian stop! You’ll kill him! {Eugene pulls him off and Vergus sinks to the ground coughing and sputtering} Eugene:...Leave Corona...and don’t come back… Vergus: I was just getting ready to do that… Varian: it's a miracle! he actually has some sense. Vergus:  I just want to let you know something your majesty... this is hardly the first time your citizens will be targeted... we don't want to hurt the innocent but we will do it if it makes you listen.  just keep that in mind next time we send you a message. {Eugene wears a concerned look on his face} Vergus: the choice is really yours... accept our agreement to meet and discuss terms or continue to watch your civilians die... I would say it's an honor to have met you both but then again you did strangle me so I will speak no such pleasantries. Good day… {he throws on his cloak and proceeds to leave} Varian:.....ngh.. Eugene: Varian! Let me look at your head…. {He brushes back Varian’s hair} Eugene:  it's a small cut but it's bleeding a lot you'll probably need a stitch or two... can you see all right? Varian: I can see just fine but I think I might have a concussion… Eugene:  don't go diving off a roof next time… Varian:  you need to get your wound dressed as well… Eugene:  yeah we're both pretty banged up... so much for reinforcing the walls today. {He helps Varian up} Eugene:  we can deal with what happened later right now I think we should get to a medic. {Eugene starts walking away but turns back to see Varian looking down the ally way} Eugene: Varian? You okay bud? Varian: Y-yeah...like I said I think I have a concussion we should probably get to that medic… {he walks past Eugene and Eugene makes a nervous face; cut to later that night as Varian sits at his table with bandages on his head and going over papers} Zapada:  well Isaiah is finally asleep... I tell him if he doesn't go to bed I’d cook the spiciest meal and serve it for dinner...hehe he hates such things. {Varian barely notices} Zapada: Varian? Varian: Wha- huh?  oh I'm sorry...what did you say? Zapada: ... what troubles you so? Varian:...Zapada...I want you to be 100% honest with me right now. {Zapada sits next to him and holds his hand} Zapada: Of course… Varian:  Do you think I put the kingdom before you and Isaiah? Zapada:  what kind of question is this? Varian: please just answer me… {Zapada caresses his cheek} Zapada: I don't think you put the kingdom before us... and I don't think you put us before the kingdom... you care about everything with great passion... you are good man, Varian.  please never doubt yourself. you try so hard to be the perfect man that you've built up in your mind... when will you realize becoming that man is impossible? Varian:...I love you… Zapada: si eu te iubesc, Varian… no matter what happens... {They embrace each other} {END CREDITS}