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/ I will not manage to scroll.

⠀⠀⠀    ⠀ a low curl of breath escaped his chest in dark amusement. stealthy fingers had been prying at what wasn’t theirs, but his large hand moved with sudden force, slamming her back against the wall. he pinned her wrists above her head, his grip firm, a coiling madness humming beneath the calm of his facade, buzzing in his chest with a dangerous rhythm. fast, impatient footsteps echoed outside, hinting at a threat lurking beyond. but he didn’t care who walked in,        not when he only cared about what she’d stolen. he pressed her legs apart with his feet, and as careful as he was with his search, his gloved hands mapped her waist lightly, seeking his pocket watch and the hand crafted egyptian dagger.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀ “fuck?” nikolas muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on her wrists. he bent low, slipping a hand under her skirt, and without a moment’s hesitation, found what he’d suspected, his dagger strapped to her right thigh. he was unimpressed by her stealth or her tactics. edging closer as he straightened, he lowered his head and murmured in low russian, letting the iciness in his deep voice turn to a sound that was both warning and admonition
            
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀ “я? с каких пор ты превратился в жалкого вора?”      [ translation ]  me? when did you turn into a pitiful thief?
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀ “The stopwatch. Now.” nikolas slipped the dagger into his pocket and held out his palm. he released one of her wrists, cold eyes locked on her, waiting.
            
                        ⠀⠀⠀ @necromanics
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ＊ ⠀━━━━

⺌  i offer my apologies for the imbecile curse, yet you proclaimed him a villain, and after the reply you sent me, tell me, omg—why is he forged in such perilous beauty? so hot, too.

. ݁ ˖【 @HYLYKOS 】. ݁ ˖
            
            Mirella’s eyes flicked to him, pale and sharp, catching the faint glint of the storm-light on his face. The wind tugged at her hair, whipping strands across her cheeks, but she didn’t brush them away. Instead, she peered over the railing, tilting her head like a predator assessing something—curious, cautious, dangerous all at once.
            
            “You could care less,” she repeated, her voice low, a whisper over the rising wind. A ghost of a smile curved her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yet you still speak. You… warn me.”
            
            Her fingers drummed lightly against the cold metal, rhythm slow, deliberate. “Why bother?” she asked softly, leaning just enough to let the storm press between them. “Are you trying to stop me… or see what happens if you don’t?”
            
            Her gaze stayed locked on him, unblinking, reflecting the stormy chaos overhead as if daring him to answer.

⠀⠀⠀    ⠀it was going to rain. the grey clouds gleamed with that charged look that warned thunder might strike at any moment. the stars were gone, swallowed by the sky, and nikolas felt a quiet disappointment settle in his chest. he’d grown too obsessed with constellations,         too fond of how each star had been nestled in place by the creator. but the sight before him was far more disturbing. he stepped up to the ledge, peering down at the streets below. the height alone could frighten anyone with how steep the drop was, yet he leaned against the cold metal rail, unbothered by how its chill seeped through his blazer.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀ “yeah?” he mused, his thick russian voice holding not a hint of emotion.       “i could care less what happens. but the owners of this estate might.” he reached into his pocket, drawing out the mint nicotine stick that dulled the edge of his anxiety. he flicked open the plastic lid, set it between his lips, and sucked in the sharp mint. god, he loathed the mint.           “don’t do it,” he said, turning to face her, slipping the stick away again as his arm fell naturally back to his side.
            
                        ⠀⠀ @DrownedHymn-
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ＊ ⠀━━━━

⠀   ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ a steel grit tightened along his teeth, a subtle shift settling in the pale grey of his eyes. boisterous music rose from the makeshift camp, time moving slow as a norse god’s memory, turning the night into a sweet haven. there was fire, there was moonlight burned thin with stars glittering above. nikolas sires was not a shy man, nor one inclined to basic human emotion. several men, his men and those guarding the land, occupied the fire outside the camp, and inside, the burning lamp split shadows across his form even as he sat. the rifte of his imposing height made it impossible for him to stand fully, forcing him to rest on one knee,         and he didn’t hesitate to slip out of his shirt. somehow the music continued, a persian melody of old, sung by tongues from ancient time. there was too much to note, yet too little room in the tent, but he knew if he willed himself to listen he’d hear disbelief hissing past the lips of the muslim men outside. the root of islamic law was a dangerous thing for a man like him, but it held far worse implications for an unclaimed woman stepping into the privacy of his space, even if his space was only a tent. yet he trusted the loyalty of his men and of those bound by shari law.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    nikolas sat with his legs crossing, and before she could begin, all it took was a harsh blink and a soft breath for the flames to give out, drowning them in complete darkness. the fire outside remained an anchor, flickering against the canvas, and he rested the clasp of his wrists on his knees. he straightened, keeping his gaze above her head. he knew she would protest,       but he’d rather invite darkness than allow the preying eyes outside to catch her shadow tending to him. he had seen the way certain eyes followed her during their journey, and though nikolas pretended not to notice, he had observed every single one.
            
                        ⠀⠀⠀ @necromanics
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ＊ ⠀━━━━

⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀ “i never said it was good⎯⎯just that it needed to happen.” nikolas mused quietly, deadpan eyes fixed ahead. a stash of cash cascaded from the drop, and he watched the street below swarm with ants like humans caught in a ritual. mortals were obsessed with money, even at a cost,       and he snickered softly.          “just look at them. a bunch of fucking idiots.”
            
                        ⠀⠀⠀⠀ @fullofterror
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