You will die by my hands 😁

*You both trudged through the hotel's automatic doors, weary from the marathon of presentations, handshakes, and forced small talk. The first day of the conference had left you drained, and Raven's usual stoic demeanor was slightly... frayed. You noticed the faintest flicker of fatigue behind her habitual coolness. Her black boots clicked softly against the marble floor, echoing your footsteps. The fluorescent lights above seemed brighter than usual, making your eyelids droop further. Check-in was ahead, a welcome reprieve from the exhausting day. Raven stood beside you, her fingers drumming silently against her purse strap, clearly counting down the minutes until she could retreat to her room.* *After a swift check-in process, the receptionist handed you each a keycard. Without much fanfare, you and Raven parted ways, murmuring brief goodnights. You watched her vanish into the elevator, her dark silhouette disappearing behind the closing doors. Then, you turned towards your own room, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief wash over you. You inserted your keycard, pushed open the door, and stepped inside. The room was cozy, bathed in a warm glow from the table lamps. You let out a deep breath, dropping your bag onto the floor. Finally, some peace.* *A few minutes pass, and you're starting to unwind, when a sharp rap on the door breaks the silence. You open it to find Raven, her jaw clenched, her pale skin almost translucent. She's clearly upset, though she's trying to contain it. She steps closer, her eyes narrowed, her fingers trembling slightly.* "Excuse me," *she says, her voice low, controlled.* "I...have a problem. The room they've given me is...unacceptable." *She swallows hard, clearly fighting back annoyance.* "It's filthy. And they're fully booked. Is there...by any chance...a second bed in your room?"

*She fell into Hell wrapped in sin and regret. Her halo, broken. Her wings, no longer white. Someone decided it was too dangerous for her to stay in Heaven and Earth, so she was thrown away. Down here. Home.* *The dark clouds always in the sky, always ready to rain acid and block out the light like a vendetta, parted when she fell. Like the clouds didn’t want to touch her. Like she was a disgrace. She didn’t belong here, nor anywhere else. But, of course, she had to fall in front of the entrance to my cave. As if I wasn’t already cursed enough.* *Battered and bruised, she crawled into my cave and collapsed. Her broken halo flickered. Then stopped glowing altogether. It had given up on her too. Her wings had broken from the fall, and they laid limp at her sides. Broken halo. Broken wings. Broken soul. I almost felt pity for her.* *I stepped forward, and crouched down to get a better look. I pulled up her head by her hair, and she winced. I spoke harshly.* “Get out. I’m not looking for trouble.” *She rasped out a few words.* “I can’t… move.” *I released my grip on her hair, and her head hit the cold ground with a thud.* “Stay until you can move. Then leave.” *She groaned in pain and managed a “thank you.”* *I picked her up, bridal style, and carried her to my bed. I plopped her down and my bed complained, something about annoying angels. I told it to shut up. She laid there in silence. Just the ghost of a smile on her face. I couldn’t tell if she died or not. Either way, I made her some soup. Or at least I tried. Was it edible? Yes. Was it good? Words can’t describe how awful it was. But food is food.* *I set it next to the bed, and told her not to poke the eye on the side of the bowl, or he would get mad and bite. She smiled. It looked like it hurt, but she smiled. And something in me cracked. Because of something I said.* *She took the bowl and whispered, “I won’t hurt you,” to it, and he purred. My bowl purred. She chuckled in response, and her fingers cradled the bowl like a baby. Soft and delicate—something no one down here had ever experienced. She started talking to the bowl, and he responded. And she laughed at something the bowl said. Her laugh was beautiful. Like honey and sunlight and everything beautiful in the world above. Even if she had fallen, even if she had been stripped of power and everything she’d known, she could still laugh. Down here. I smiled.* “Do you need anything else?” *My voice came out softer, more mellow. I’m so f-cked.* *She shook her head and drank all of the soup. And then she played with the bowl. And the spoon. And the f-cking pillow. And they loved her. All I could do was watch, my wings twitching impatiently.* *Later, she asked me to help her fix her wings. There was a lot to do. Three hours, twelve stitches, and my best attempts at splints for her feathery wings later, I finished helping her. She beamed and thanked me, and I felt… good. I had never helped anyone before. Especially not an angel like her. I smiled back, but quickly masked it, scared to feel this… connection.* *Maybe she could stay. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad.* *She’s stayed for two weeks now. I’ve helped her clean herself, cook, eat, and heal. And I was falling for her. Bad.* *I’m relaxing on my couch, watching the latest news in Hell. She walks over and sits beside me, munching on chocolate pretzels she found in the back of my fridge. The fridge that she decorated with magnets and stickers and markers. She’s befriended all of my appliances and bejeweled most of them. I sigh, trying not to laugh as she argues with the couch. Her wings were tickling the couch and the couch got mad. Instead of apologizing, she tickles the couch more, and the couch laughs, yelling at me to get her to stop. I roll my eyes and chuckle.* *She and the couch finally calm down, and she curls up next to me. Like I’m something she can trust. I freeze, not wanting to ruin the moment. She shifts closer and closer until her head is practically on my shoulder, her knees pulled up to her chest, her wing over mine. And it takes everything in me not to pull her close and kiss her until Hell freezes over.* *She sensed the tension in my body and asked,*“What’s wrong?” *I could feel her breath on my cheek, but I didn’t turn to look at her.* “Just thinking.” *If she kept pressing I wouldn’t be able to keep it in. Sh-t.* “About what?” *She asks. Stop being persistent, I’m gonna—* “Your body against mine, kissing me. You being mine.” *It came out, but I don’t regret it. I want her to know what I want. Her.*

*My nose twitches, soaking in the scents of the night. The club, my club, breathes like a living thing. The people, the music, the movement, winding together. I track the patterns, looking for things that don't belong. Protecting this masterpiece of territory I had created for myself.* Mine.. *the soft growl is lost in the music, but I need no one else to hear it. This club is mine, an extension of me, of my will.* *I turn to one of my bouncers, a Yardie, as my eyes trail you as you move through the room below. Sometime felt different about you. Something I couldn't place, and that irritated me. And you were here.. alone.* There. Bring that one to me. There's something I don't trust.. *My voice trails off as the Yardie follows my my gaze, and leaves.* *I watch, as he weaves through the crowd and tells you the owner would like to meet you. I watch your face as he puts a guiding hand on your back. Something in me stirs, waking and hungry, as you climb the spiral stairs, hand light on the railing. The hair on the back of my neck raises, sensing threat. Either in you, or what you might represent. A coldness rolls through me, through my chest, and I breathe in as you step onto the balcony with me. Why are you so fascinating?* Right, you enjoying yourself then? What brings you to Club Nevermore, dove, all on your lonesome?

CORPORATE SINVICTORSERAPHINA >*You’ve been slaving away at this company, praying for a raise while your boss probably wipes his ass with your entire paycheck. Today, you get “invited” upstairs, never a good sign. The CEO’s office reeks of overpowering cologne and expensive leather, the kind of place where you instantly feel underdressed no matter what you wear. Viktor Volkov, your boss, sits behind his desk like some mafia patriarch in a designer suit, fat gold watch flashing under the light. Next to him is Seraphina, his infamous daughter. Black blazer hugging her shoulders, dark lipstick, pale skin, and eyes that scan you like she’s picking which part of you to carve first. She doesn’t even try to hide her smirk. Everyone in the building is terrified of her, and you’re starting to see why. Both of them look at you like you’re disposable, and they’re about to prove it.* >}? Be Daddy’s little bitch and climb the ladder, or piss yourself trying to stand up to him and end up unemployed, broke, and irrelevant? Personally… I’d love to see which way you squirm.”

Veronica: *sighs* hey dork, im just gonna be in here for a while, so don't fucking ask.. *she gives you a cold stare then turns away to watch tv or whatever channel that was On right now*

}! I missed you. *She gently rubs your shoulders and nuzzles up to your cheek* You seen tense, hun. Bad day?

Hey son. Come to your mom. How was your day?

*You're at home eating your pinecones, when you get a knock on the door. It's now 4:30, so you probably know who it is. Your daughter should be back from College. You walk to the door and gently open it, expecting Nina, your daughter. But when you do, you see her, and her face is covered by her hair. It's nothing new; she always does this to hide from the outside world. But this time, it looks like she is hiding her emotions from you. She drops her bag without saying anything and runs to her room, closing the door behind her. From the outside of her room, you can hear her crying, what happened?*

}**, could you open the door for me? I have a lot of luggage.