#HEIST GONE WRONG

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Nanami, Ijichi and Nitta foil a bank robbery with a cursed twist ...

Genre: Suspense

Contents: Canon-typical violence, foul language, reader character narrator, reader perspective of sorcerers.

He’d never signed up for this.

When he’d joined, Ueno had gone on about the fun they’d have, the risk, the high of getting away with things like this. It was a release, a way to escape the drudgery of his long shifts at the convenience store and the hollow-eyed, resentful presence of his mother at home. If that place could even be called a home.

In the beginning, they’d just wandered the brightly lit streets of nighttime Shinjuku, vandalizing the shops Ueno’s boss had told them to target, getting into scuffles with rival gangs, keeping an eye on the activities of people of importance. Each time he’d left home, the door would swing shut behind him like the unseen gateway to another realm. The street before him would be familiar, but not, the night air crisp with possibility. He’d never been aware of the perilous web being woven around him, of the fact that none of these jaunts were disjointed activities, each with their isolated goal.

And now he was here, in the back of a dark blue minivan with no windows, the humid damp of the balaclava he wore sticking to his face, making breathing difficult. He couldn’t do this. He’d never known they would ask him to – but there was no time for that. No time to think about the number of times he shouldn’t have walked out that door, the number of times he should have turned Ueno down, the many, many nights he should have decisively put an end to any and all association with the present company.

They were crowded in on all sides, shoulder to shoulder, the cramped space filled with the smell of sour sweat, cheap cologne and the heavy funk of strong tobacco. These men would have no patience for a boy who backed out, even if he said he was young and stupid and regretted everything he’d done. They were wily, experienced, razor-edged and slick with survival instinct. There was no way out for him, not now.

The power of his fear roots him in place, even as his body rebels, his muscles catch and quiver, his breathing hitches sporadically and his bowels cramp and protest. If only … if only he were someone else, someone more equipped to deal with this. If only something, anything, would take over his body and mind, just for tonight. If only something would come along and turn him into the man he should be in this situation; fearless, aggressive, raring for battle, a spitting cobra rearing for a shot between the eyes. But he was not any of those things.

And they were on their way to rob a bank.

You'd made it something of a game over the years. Each person that swam into view in the window of your counter formed a portrait of an unknown life, one you tried your best to embroider.

Head, shoulders, knees and toes, just like the song you used to sing in elementary school. What would the shifting window bring you today?

Ah, here was a grandmother, feeble and infirm. Collecting her pension fund and rambling about her three adult children, including her son who was staying for the month. Most of that pension probably ended up in his pocket.

And here was the man who came every Tuesday since three months ago. Sweating, nervous, smelling faintly of cheap perfume. You'd bet your whole salary that each trip to the bank was followed by a sharp detour out the door to the seedy motel nearby.

Then, the antique shop owner, the family name a well-known one in the area. Pity his father gambled most of their inheritance away. Everyone knew that he lived in the once-fabled traditional home, now dilapidated and infested with mould, a Havisham who rotted beside his antiques in the wedding dress of former renown. His cash withdrawal was minimal, enough to feed him for a week at a time.

Today was spectacularly ordinary. As a financial services representative at this particular branch for an odd five years now, you'd come to recognise your usual patrons, along with the occasional tourist or visitor who'd pay a once-off visit. These were usually recognisable by their clothing, or accents.

Here were two such individuals right now. You'd definitely never seen them before. The man looked to be in his late twenties, wearing the harried, hollow-cheeked look of someone much older. His dark hair was neatly parted, a pair of rectangular spectacles enhancing the earnest, studious nature of his face.

Beside him was a girl with bright blonde hair in an untidy bob. In severe contrast to the man's sober, dark suit, she wore a pair of baggy black jeans, a crop top and oversized jacket, unzipped, over it all. The glitter eyeshadow she wore only served to emphasize her thousand-yard-stare and she looked you up and down appraisingly.

Oh. It was time to adjust to your customer service face. Feeling the stiff muscles of your lower jaw stretch into a wide, practiced smile, you bowed slightly.

"Good day. How may I be of assistance?"

"Ah, I'd like to open an account for my niece here. She's starting college next year and just landed a new job to help pay things off. A flexi-save option would be nice."

"Of course! Mister ...?"

"Ijichi. And my niece here is Miss Nitta."

"Pleasure to meet you."

You turn to the girl in question, eyebrows raising in slight query.

"Would you like to have a look at our options? There are varying interest rates with different benefits to each type of savings account you can open."

She shrugged with the kind of nonchalance that could only come with long practice.

"Uncle's handling all that. I just do the legwork and get my shit together. That's the deal."

Wow. The youth of tod -

You clear your throat and turn to your PC screen, avoiding the errant thought that had come dangerously close to leaping out of your mouth.

"Of course. Give me a minute."

The fairly youthful uncle nods, adjusting his glasses. He looks slightly tense, the poor thing. You would too, if you were planning the financial future of a niece like this. You wondered if he took care of her full-time.

The niece, Nitta, was focused elsewhere, eyes roaming across the high-ceilinged atrium, the neat and ordered rows of seats where clients waited for service, the row of reinforced glass windows that gave way to many small booths like your own.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her glancing in one particular direction more often than not. Following the path of her gaze, your own is arrested by the sight of a tall blonde man in a dark suit, red patterned tie vivid against his white shirt. He stands in the queue of a neighbouring window, eyes inscrutable behind dark lenses.

Well, you could hardly fault her for looking at that. He has a stern, cold face, but his chiseled features and imposing stature make him hard to look away from. Speaking of which, you had a job to do.

Turning back to your screen, you complete the series of prompts, until you're finally within the authorized programme for creating a new account.

"All right, can I see some identifica- "

A scream tears through the still peace of the atrium, carving a sudden flaw in of the passage of time. In that moment, you do not think, you do not feel, and your body seems foreign to you. A group of people, dressed in black, waving weapons that were definitely acquired illegally, charge into the open space. Still frozen, you watch as they move like an oil spill across the room, smooth, practiced, herding the panicking crowd with sharp, barked commands and prods of their weapons.

Ijichi and Nitta duck down immediately, and you vaguely hear the bespectacled man shouting at you to do the same. Finally, dragged against the opposing current of shock, your body responds to your wishes. Dropping boneless to your knees, you reach up, fumbling for the panic button beneath your desk.

You press and hold, releasing after 20 seconds. Your mind still hasn't fully caught up with what is occurring, but your body is guiding you through the motions, stilted and half conscious.

The gang that has infiltrated the banking hall seals the doors. One of the burly men is obviously the leader, standing at the centre of the chaos while his lackeys form a co-ordinated chain of carried instructions, the spokes of a turning wheel. One of the gang comes right up to your counter, screaming instructions across to you.

You are still slow to respond, but panic has now asserted itself and you let out a sob of a breath, scrambling to raise your hands above your head and stand as he tells you to. You, and the rest of the employees behind the safety of the barrier, are forced at gunpoint to open up the inter-leading door, flocking out among whimpers, soft pleas and muffled cries to the atrium floor where you are made to lie down along with the rest of the crowd.

You find yourself near Ijichi and his niece, Nitta. You meet his eyes with a blank, stricken stare, mouth half opening in an apology, before you realise how stupid and pointless such a thing would be. How could you have known? You still can't quite grasp what is happening all around you.

Strangely enough, it is Ijichi who counters your disoriented glance with a square sense of reassurance. There is something ... different about him. He seems surprisingly calm, a far cry from the nervousness he showed earlier while opening a bank account for his niece, of all things. The niece in question is also unusually collected, her body coiled with the readiness of physical conditioning. That isn't a normal response to this situation, you're sure of it. She's too young to -

But there isn't time to speculate on this. The gang is rushing behind the tills, one of the managers held at gunpoint pushed roughly to the interior vault where his superior security clearance will allow him to gain access.

Granted, your security isn't state of the art, but it is fair enough to cause some small delay. There are five different checkpoints, each with a unique pass code, and a thumbprint, voice recognition and retina scanner that need to be applied simultaneously.

Turning your attention back to the interior of the atrium, you notice that one of the gang members is behaving a little erratically. His eyes, visible through the small opening of his balaclava, seem just as terrified as that of the people he is holding hostage. His blue, long sleeve shirt is soaked through with large, darker patches of perspiration, creeping down from his armpits, neckline and across his back. His breathing is harsh, audible from where you lie as still as possible, and the way he is holding his weapon is far from expert.

There is a small movement from beside you as ijichi straightens slightly. He is, for some reason, watching that young assailant like a hawk, eyes steady, something like recognition stirring in their depths. Nitta has moved to a crouching position, one of her hands braced on his back.

What are they doing? Surely -

And then, the boy in the balaclava stiffens, as if stuck with a knife. He is now staring past the man next to him as if dazed, his limbs as limp as a marionette whose strings have been abruptly cut. The gun tilts dangerously floorward, and one of his companions yells to him to -

"Get the fuck back in line!"

Something, the likes of which you've never seen, is occurring right before your disbelieving eyes. A jet of viscosity, black as pitch, shoots from the boy's mouth, tearing past the balaclava. The remnants of the knitted fabric land a few feet away, exposing his pale, terrified face, the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead, the strange look of relief that briefly crosses his features before his eyes close.

They re-open, and you utter a small, involuntary scream. Behind his lids, two neon rings of purple form a flickering gateway to madness, the slow, unhinged smile that sweeps up the corners of his mouth as unnatural as his posture. The men around him pause, exchanging uncertain glances, some of them even re-directing their weapons to his quivering form.

The boy, if he can still be called as such, takes little to no note of the threat from his own former comrades. The crowd of hostages has now noticed the change, cries of alarm ringing out as they see the boy's body contort, arms and legs snapping and twisting to distorted, elongated proportions. One of the other gang members shouts out a hoarse warning before firing a round into the boy's contorted head and chest.

He is ... unharmed. Instead, the nightmarish head sweeps back, the neck stalk-like, flexible. The features seem even more inhuman, his grotesque smile now jagged-edged, the teeth sliding like nails past the shredded, bloody lips. The heist completely forgotten, the men in dark clothes back away, yelling in fear and consternation, weapons clutched in sweat-slicked palms.

What is this? What is -

You scramble backwards, coming up against a firm, warm palm in the small of your back. The muscles of your abdomen and legs are now plagued by small tremors as you turn your head to see Nitta behind you. She doesn't seem quite so young and nonchalant any longer. There is a certain hard quality to her, a readiness for what is to come that takes you completely off guard. Beyond her, Ijichi shoots you a quick glance of apology before nodding at his 'niece'.

His hand raises towards the glass of the atrium ceiling, the cloudy sky outside clearly visible. Nitta mirrors his pose, palm pressed flat against the smooth tile beneath her. Their voices rise above the cacophony, a steady chant that somehow resonates in the furthest reaches of your being.

"Emerge from the darkness ... "

The vision of horror that used to be a human sweeps out an arm, narrowly missing the men who scream and return fire. It seems that he - it - is still learning the use of that body. It stumbles, clawed feet scraping across the floor, leaving deep grooves in its wake.

" ... blacker than darkness ..."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the group of civilians who has been standing at the counter being ushered to safety further into the lounge at the other end of the room. The man who seals the double doors behind him is one you recognise. The imposing blonde businessman, the one Nitta had been looking at earlier. This was now, in your mind, no mere coincidence.

Who were these people?

" ... purify that which is impure."

It slides from the fingertips of Ijichi and Nitta, a layer of otherness, a barrier between your world and the distortion of reality that has happened in here, in this space that used to be your everyday stronghold of familiarity. Ijichi meets your bewildered gaze and he pauses momentarily, mouth drawing into a regretful line.

"You can see it."

You nod wordlessly and he adjust his glasses, that incongruously stern set of his features directed at something past you.

"Don't worry. It'll be over soon."

One of the criminals spots the movement of Ijichi and Nitta, screaming out to them as they get to their feet on either side of you. 

"Get back down! Don't you fucking move! I'll - "

His words are cut off as one of the monster's flailing, spiked projections lob his left arm right off at the shoulder, the gun falling from the nerveless clasp of the severed hand. The noise that leaves his throat is thick, animal, full of existential fear. He slides forward, the floor now slick with his own blood, eyes bulging as his choked cries echo across the hall.

Two strong hands assert their grip under each of your armpits, dragging you to your feet. You realise that a sound, similar to the one the maimed man had made, was exiting your own throat.

"Easy," comes Ijichi's voice in your ear, "Just breathe. Move with us. It'll be all right."

How? How could any of this ever be all right?

You cannot comprehend how this man could possibly say that, but when you look over at him, there it is, in his eyes behind those rectangular frames. He does believe what he says. He means every word. But how can he -

"Step back, please. You're in the way."

The voice that echoes across the atrium is unlike any of the others, cutting through the chaos with calm, clipped, precise enunciation. It's the blonde businessman, who, you are rapidly realising, is also not what he seems.

He strides across the hall, completely ignoring the threatening gestures and shots fired in his direction by the gang who are now in disarray. He sheds his pinstripe coat, revealing a leather harness fastened across his torso, the dark straps stark against the white of his shirt.

And there is something else, something similar to the strange current you sensed from Ijichi and Nitta earlier, coursing along the powerful lines of his shoulders and arms. It is ... different, but holds a deadly latency that can't be denied. The businessman reaches up and removes his dark glasses, revealing a sharp-cornered, intensely shadowed gaze. He glances across at Ijichi, who straightens and nods in response.

"We'll leave things to you, Nanami."

"Thank you, Ijichi. Get the rest of the hostages to safety."

The rapid gunfight that had been punctuating by yells in the background had now taken a worrying turn. The force of the automatic rifles, puncturing skin and shattering bone, had been driving the monster back, but no longer. It was healing itself, shards of bone annealing, flesh knitting itself back together, blood decanting back into torn vessels as it slowly gained momentum, moving forward and driving them back.

The man called Nanami turned back to the battle, surveying it with the calm of a seasoned veteran. As Ijichi and Nitta help you along, you slowly regain your ability to move, but something kept your gaze fixed on Nanami's broad back as he reached behind him, fingers grasping the handle of what seemed to be a blunt blade wrapped in an oddly patterned cloth. It appeared to be a similar pattern to the one on his tie.

Is he mad? Bullets don't work on that thing! He was going to -

Your thoughts still and die away as an electric rush of that strange energy jets up around Nanami's body, coating him in what looks like armour. One polished leather brogue slides back along the tiles, giving him enough momentum to propel himself forward at inhuman speed. Your eyes can barely follow his movements as he streaks across the atrium, right towards the spinning, shrieking monster.

Now that it had become accustomed to the body it inhabited, the creature was darting forward with swift, jagged motions, dealing terrible slashes and blows to any flesh it encountered. Nanami reaches it, dancing around its flailing arms with ease and grace. It takes note of him, the slide of its bulbous eyes sickening as they gather on either side of its skull, as if to pin down his location better. The remaining gang members take this opportunity to scramble to safety, kicking and clawing each other to the floor in their urgency to escape.

You shout a wordless warning to Nanami, but Nitta's grip on your shoulder gives you a measure of reassurance. They seem to have full faith that this deceptively understated salaryman can handle the reality-bending situation unfolding before your eyes.

And he does.

From the little snippets of the battle that you can follow with comprehension, Nanami's movements match the creature's every step of the way. When its limbs elongate with a sudden snap, he adjusts his distance. When it sends tendrils of smoky substance across the floor, he seems to coat his shoes in that luminous energy, skidding effortlessly across the top of it. When it tries to close in on him, limbs splitting and weaving in tendrils that catch and ensnare, he slices clean through them, that blunt blade doing far more damage than you would have ever thought possible.

The confidence and surety of his block and parry sends a sudden flare of hope through your chest.

Maybe he can beat it! Maybe he can -

The creature let's out a howl of fury, the force of it battering the walls and shattering the windows. You scream as shards of glass blow outwards from the booths where you and your fellow employees had been crouched just a short while before. Covering your face, you brace for the tearing pain, but nothing happens. Peering between your fingers, you see that Ijichi is muttering under his breath, creating another kind of barrier, this one of a smaller radius, around the three of you. The faint patter of glass reaches your ears as the flying shrapnel falls harmlessly off the surface.

But what about Nanami?

A sharp breath escapes your lips as you see him, still standing, facing the wrath of the creature. He remains unphased, but his sleeves have now been rolled up, the smooth shift of sinew and muscle visible beneath skin. You watch as he reaches up, loosening his tie and flicking his wrist out, the spotted red material wrapping around his fist. He begins a measured pace towards the creature, and for the first time, you see it take a step back.

Nanami's smooth, mellow voice sounds through the hall again.

"It's now three in the afternoon. I started work today at nine and I'm going to clock out at five. That leaves me exactly fifteen minutes to finish off with you, forty five minutes of travel time and one hour to complete my paperwork for today."

... what? 

He continues, striding forward as the creature staggers back even further, defensive spikes slowly sliding into place on its arms and knees. He doesn't seem to be particularly bothered by this.

"I would prefer not to incur overtime, so if you would please co-operate with me, I would highly appreciate it."

For all your years in retail and finance, you had never seen customer service handled quite like this.

Nanami flicked his blade straight out, those keen eyes sighting right along the upper edge. He seemed to have assessed something of the creature, because his subsequent lunge was precision itself. The dappled sword swung down, then up and away, severing along some vital line. The ghoulish scream that exited the monster spoke of the damage dealt. It collapsed, clawing at its body as Nanami approached with that predator's prowl; decisive, tranquil.

He crouched right before the recoiling mass of darkness, one arm bending back before his fist slammed with impossible strength right into where the midriff should be. The blast stripped away the last vestiges of whatever had possess the original 'host' in the first place. The slick darkness shivered in its death throes, snaking along the ground before Nanami's heel came down on it with crushing finality.

You let out a breath you'd been holding as the boy, whose body you'd felt would be beyond any kind of repair, slumped to the floor, unconscious. Nanami knelt beside him, fingers enclosing his wrist before glancing up at Ijichi and nodding.

He was alive!

Nitta rushed forward immediately, a cellphone appearing from within her coat, balanced between shoulder and ear as she patted the boy down, searching for further weapons or injuries. She appeared to be calling for some kind of assistance from the outside.

Beside you, Ijichi raised two fingers, and suddenly, a rush of noise reached you from outside; the blare of sirens, the snap and flash of cameras, the commotion of many voices. The barrier they had cast earlier had been lifted. You clamber slowly to your feet, with his assistance.

You have so many burning questions, but you feel that the answers will hold information that might take you some time to process. For now, you'll simply ask about -

"You can see the cursed energy."

Ijichi is watching you, following your movements with attention.

"Cursed ... energy?"

"That's what we call it. Some civilians, like you, can see it, although that's quite rare. It's the duty of those like us to protect humanity from the curses that roam this world. Curses that appear, much like this one."

"So ... you knew it was going to come here? That's why you ... "

"Suspected," he corrects you. "We traced it to this area, but could not pinpoint its location. Then we received a tip-off from law enforcement about a heist that was about to occur at this bank. We made an educated guess as to where the curse would manifest next."

"With ... law enforcement? So all of you are ..."

"Sorcerers, affiliated with Jujutsu Tech. Well, I'm no qualified sorcerer. Simply an assistant director. Nanami is the sorcerer. You'll ... have to come with us, of course. To sign a waiver. There's a lot of paperwork involved with civilian witnesses and victims."

You nod, turning to where the boy who had been ... possessed, for want of a better term, was now being loaded onto a stretcher.

"Was he a victim too, then?"

"Yes. He will have little to no memory of what occurred when he wakes up. Just the events leading up to his arrival here. Everything before that ... will have to be processed through regular law enforcement."

"I see."

You really didn't, but the matter-of-fact manner with which Ijichi was rattling off this information made this fever dream seem halfway believable, if the protocol was anything to go by. Ijichi gestured to you, and you saw that the other hostages were being led out of the safety of the lounge where Nanami had sequestered them earlier.

Speaking of Nanami, you saw his tall figure stride ahead of you. He'd looked over you and the rest of the captives and seemed satisfied that his work here was done. You called out to him as he approached the doors.

"Thank you!"

He paused and turned slightly, that cool, appraising glance taking you in.

"No need. I'm simply doing my job."

"Well then, allow me to thank you ... for letting me clock out on time."

You see the barely perceptible change in his expression, the slight lift of his eyebrows, the tilt at the corner of his mouth.

"Noted."

He turns away and Ijichi ushers you after him, out into the sunlight that strikes your skin like your new-found awareness of the unseen world.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[mothmanthebreadwizard]

I fell in love with how @owwwmyteeth drew Slicks hair, and I decided to take a crack at drawing her myself!

better pictures of each page under the cut

[facelessfinest]

Hey, Jigen...

Jigen is already standing in wait when the door swings open, but a guard doesn't come through. Instead, a limp form is tossed into the cell and hits the floor hard with a pained moan. Then the door slams shut again.

The split second of brightness destroyed Jigen's adjustment to the pitch black within the confines of his little domicile, so he cautiously approaches the area where the person is laying.

"You alright, kid?" He snaps gruffly, his voice a little deeper than it naturally is.

He inches closer, but quickly pulls back when his foot lands in a puddle that wasn't there before and nearly slips out from under him.

"The hell?" He grumbles, crouching and squinting down at the mysterious liquid.

His new cell mate shifts ever so slightly, and the whispered words they speak hit him at the same time as the smell of blood.

"Hey, Jigen..."

Without a word, Jigen leaps into action, feeling around until he's fully located Lupin, then taking him under the shoulders, and quickly dragging him to the back of cell, leaning him against the wall.

"You idiot." He hisses, but it's dripping with worry instead of venom.

Kneeling down and feeling Lupin's torso, he turns the attempted response into a yelp of agony as his hand presses into the stab wound on the thief's side. 

Emotions aren't typically an issue for Jigen, but he has to force down the boiling rage he's feeling in this moment to focus on searching for further injuries. 

"Talk." He murmurs, cringing apologetically as his fingers drag against another gash, drawing a tortured gasp from Lupin.

He can hear the thief swallow hard, each breath hissing between clenched teeth as he struggles to speak.

"Fujiko and Goemon?"

Jigen shakes his head, stripping the thief of his suit jacket and button up.

"I know they're alive, but that's it. No one's talked to me since they decided I didn't know where you were."

He can see significantly better now, but it's not a pretty sight.

Lupin's awfully banged up, bruises litter his face and torso, and there's three stab wounds oozing blood onto Jigen's admittedly shaky hands. They've been through stuff like this before, but it's more stressful without proper supplies or lighting, and most importantly when they still aren't safe from the party responsible. 

"What about y-you?" Lupin gasps.

Jigen says nothing, takes note of the positioning of the injuries first; one just beneath Lupin's ribs, the other just above his hip, and the last one, the worst one, strategically placed at his side, where there's little chance of having hit anything vital.

It's broader than the other two, gaping open in a way that tells Jigen that the attacker kept twisting the knife.

Gritting his teeth so hard he can almost taste sparks, Jigen takes Lupin's tattered shirt, and folds it up, pressing it against the three wounds. Lupin growls, unconsciously trying to pull away.

Jigen scooches closer to him, putting an arm around Lupin's waist to keep him close, and holding the shirt tightly against the thief.

Blood is quickly dampening the fabric, but the bleeding looks to be slowing down at least.

"You've got to have something on you." Jigen huffs. "A pin, or something I can use to stitch these up."

Lupin frowns, his head lolling against Jigen's shoulder.

"Nothin'. They s-searched...every inch of me."

His whole body seizes with the effort of trying to laugh. He quickly stops trying.

And now he's just laying there, limp against Jigen and uncomfortably silent. 

Jigen swallows hard, biting back the urge to try and kick down the door, because for that, he'd have to get up, and leave Lupin bleeding alone.

"What did they want?" He growls.

Lupin looks up at him, searching his expression. Jigen refuses to meet his eyes.

"Whatever it was we were looking for, I can't remember." Lupin stops to cough, and Jigen wipes away the blood at the corner of his mouth. 

Giving a shuddering sigh, Lupin continues. "I wouldn't have told them even if I knew. 'S never worth it."

Sighing, he tried to move closer to Jigen, trembling all the while.

Jigen stopped him entirely, then carefully took him by the shoulders and lay him back, resting the man's head in his lap.

He refolded the shirt and pressed it neatly back to Lupin's side, his other hand gently running through Lupin's hair.

He looked down at his beloved thief with somber eyes. 

Perhaps Lupin might have joked about the intimacy of it all, but he was just..tired. So tired. 

His whole body ached, but it hurt less when Jigen's rough hands coddled him so gently. He closed his eyes, preening under the affection.

"I'm gonna fix this, Jigen." He whispered hoarsely. "And then all four of us are gonna go to a stupidly expensive hotel, stuff our faces like we'll never see food again, and just...sleep. All in one big bed, cuddling like puppies."

He had a stupid, pained grin on his face, and thankfully he couldn't see the equally goofy smile his partner wore.

"Sound good?" He wheezed.

"Throw in a pack of cigarettes and I'm in." Jigen chuckled.

Lupin nodded weakly, still smiling. 

"Biggest pack of cigarettes you've ever fuckin' seen, marksman.

"I'm looking forward to it, thief."

[mistbornthief]

this is all that's playing in my head while i'm watching jack & joker

[cate-meowdy]

[Recording Started] [Time 13:20]

This is the one and only Cate Meowdy! If you find this recording I guess something bad has happened to me. I found one of those little recording thingies so I thought I'd use it.

So! What am I doing? Well, you know those space people that moved in and left their big space ship in the sky? Well I found out that they left a bunch of cool tech and even these flying and shooting ship things and they look awesome and to be frank I want one! So I figured that I'd find one at their base in the Northeast-ish of the island and that's where I am! There's a lot of these guards in white armour. Stormtroopers I think they're called so I'm trying to look for an opening. Maybe a guard rotation. I don't know. I'll check back in later.

[Recording ended]

[Recording Started] [Time 14:32]

Ughh stake outs are so boring! How do people do it and not die of boredom. My phone died like half an hour ago and I'm real hungry. I might call it quits if-

[Audible blasterfire can be heard from the distance]

Wait wait wait! Somethings happening I hear gun fire a bunch of those troopers are running towards it. This. This might be my chance I'm moving in now. ha moving in. I sound like a police officer.

[The recording is muffled by the sound of Cate running]

Phew okay. Okay I'm in. I think someone else might be attacking the base so this is pretty good cover for me I just gotta play it stealthy!

[Cate begins walking through the halls. Blasterfire getting more and more audible]

Okay I think I'm getting close... Hopefully. I should've brought a gun... Eh hindsight is 20/20, if I play it careful I should be fine. Actually I was thinking of a name for this. I head some people calling the ship a Tie Fighter. So I'm dubbing this the Tie Heist! It needs workshopping but that's for after I steal this thing. Alright. I'm gonna keep going now. That gunfire is getting loud and I don't want to get in the middle of that. Or I'm toast.

Alright I just gotta keep going through these endless halls. I just hope I'm almost-

[A shout can be heard through the recording.]

Hey you! Stop right there!

Shit! They found me! T-Theres nowhere to hide! It's a dead end!

[A single blaster shot rings out through the hall. The recorder falls out of Cate's hand and clatters on the ground. Cate gasps in pain as sounds of footsteps approach. Maybe two people?]

Take her to the cell. We'll find a use for her.

[Recording Stopped.]

[yourqueenb]

Also quick focus on Mal… If I ignore some of the things that happened in this chapter, I still like his “reunion” scene from last week. It was fun and felt kind of like old times. But when you factor those things in — mainly the fact that he said he thought we were dead — the way he acted last chapter is so upsetting and doesn’t even make sense now. If he really thought MC was dead, why wasn’t he more shocked to see her? If he couldn’t express that during/after the heist, why couldn’t he express that on the dock or at camp or literally anywhere else? Why has everything been so rushed? What are the writers doing??

[theheistattheball]

Nothing much just thinking about how all this could have been avoided if Innocent had looked around and been fr

[thiefofcrows-a]

plotted starter for @therooftopsofketterdam

   THE FIRST TIME THEY'D TRIED, after Inej had left on The Wraith and returned months later, was when Kaz had joined her on the roof of the Slat. Just like he'd used to, before the heist, before Van Eck, before she'd set her dreams on hunting slavers. He'd settled in next to her, their legs dangling off of the edge, their breath escaping in puffs of white as the chill of fall had begun to set in at night. It was a gradual feeling of Inej's slight weight against him and, for a brief moment, he was weighed down, buried beneath piles of corpses — but inej was not a corpse, she was alive next to him, her ears, nose and cheeks all flushed a deeper red from the cold, her body heat warm against his shoulder.

   Kaz tilted his head, hesitated ... but then he shifted slightly so that the arm she leaned against loosely curled around her just slightly, the length of his arm casually resting against her back. He sought out her hand with his free one, making use of the slits in his gloved fingers to find the pulse that beat against her wrist. It steadied him, discouraged the frigid waters from rising around them and he let out a slow, wavering sigh, his breath misting in the air. Tentatively, he leaned his temple slightly against the top of her head — he shivered as their combined heat chased out the cold and ... Kaz couldn't remember ever having experienced this, not really. It was warm and soft, desire and longing churning relentlessly in his chest, swiping the breath from his lungs.

   He felt an abrupt and foreign urge to wrap his arms around her, embrace her, rake his fingers through her hair, but ... Kaz didn't know if he could manage any of those things, nor if she could, either. What they were doing now was close enough, he thought, and a deep affection felt like it was practically bleeding out of him, fast and uncontrolled, overwhelming. His love for her was all encompassing, terrifying, but Kaz was greedy for her own that she offered in return, much to his bafflement.

❝Hello Inej,❞ his rasped voice drifted between them warmly. ❝I thought I'd find you up here.❞

[ruthscarabae]

my one toxic trait is that i'll see a pair of characters where i really like the dynamic and immediately need to break the legs of one of them.

[ensburg]

Lore Dump

First Page Previous Page Next Page

[bowlerhatwearer]

I honestly would be very interested in a Star Wars Story/Movie which takes places solely in Coruscant, mostly in the underground and which from the genre is a hardboiled/noir tale.

[orteil42]

we are in dire need of some new media trend. we've done pirates, we've done cowboys; we've gone through two whole zombie revivals. aliens and space themes have basically been a constant since at least the 1950s, as have robots and evil AIs. we went pretty heavy on vampires for a while. we've also done dinosaurs, ninjas, musicals, wizards, sea creatures, ancient rome, ancient egypt, middle ages out the wazoo, entirely too much world war II, we're currently overdosing on our superhero phase, we've done monsters (misunderstood), monsters (radioactive), fake guy in the real world, real guy travels to fake world, caves & mining, vikings, what if you were really small, genre parody as a genre, sand, New York, time travel, something racist goes down in the jungle, neurodivergent detective, buddy cops, crooked cops, gangsters, bank heists in particular, kid has powers, revolt against the corporate world, portals, social insects, dragons, the British, global apocalypse, martial arts, roadtrip as self-discovery, Jesus, clones, clowns, babysitting goes wrong, demonic possession, ghosts of all kinds, talking animals, fucking with the stock market, restaurant ownership, dwarves, planes, and spies. where do we go from here. what's our next big thing

[stolendiamonds]

[monicascot]

Outrageous Candy Heist Caught on Camera | Uncovering thieves |

Prepare to be amazed and amused by the Outrageous Candy Heist, caught on camera for your viewing pleasure! In this uproarious funny video, witness the antics of a group of daring thieves attempting to steal the sweetest treasure. Uncovering thieves has never been this entertaining as you watch their hilariously futile attempts, filled with laugh-out-loud moments and unexpected twists. Brace yourself for a wild ride of laughter as you dive into this side-splitting candy-filled caper that will leave you craving more comedic adventures!

[witherby]

With Dick being so angry about Conner breaking in i could only imagine how chatic him actually meeting Conner would be, like having to keeo him in one of those kiddie keashes or he‘ll try to kill the guy 😭

A 17 year restrianing a whole adult man with one of those kid harnesses

Honestly? Yeah. Gimme some genuinely angry Nightwing every once in a while. Let that parentified man get some of that pent-up rage out!!!

The Littlest Wayne: Meet the Family

Masterlist is Here!

Conner opens his eyes and sits up when he hears you step into his room. He stares at you incredulously, then at the darkness and the way it seamlessly folds and bends to your will.

"You're invulnerable?" You ask him.

"Yes?" He responds, confused. It's just past eleven at night, and you've shown up out of nowhere to chat when the only other time you've spoken was when he came to your room three days ago. "A bullet bounces off me at point-blank range. Feels like somebody flicked me with their finger, at most."

"Okay," you say, looking nervous, "because my family found out you broke into the house to talk to me, and they're, like, super livid. I just came to give you fair warning because they might, uh, try to kill you."

Conner chuckles. Your face doesn't change. He stops chuckling.

"What, you're serious?"

"They're looking for their stashes of Kryptonite right now. I hid most of it, but they probably have more I don't know about. Just...be prepared. And don't kill any of them, or you'll have to hide from me, next."

The shadows in his room curl around you again. You step into them and allow darkness to envelop you completely.

"Bye, Conner."

"Um," he blurts, cheeks reddening, "same. I mean, bye. Goodbye to you, too."

He hears you snort in amusement before you're gone again. Conner is then left alone to process, 1, that you were concerned for his well-being enough to come warn him about your family, and 2, that he made you laugh.

He can't sleep the rest of the night, giddy with the swell of adoration he has for you.

--

The next time Luthor has him leave the facility to do his job as Superman, it's when the first Superman has to go off-world again over a month later. Conner stops a bank heist, saves some hostages, puts out a fire, and helps a child find her parents when she wanders too far off in the mall.

Then he meets your youngest sibling.

His moniker is Robin. The implanted information helps Conner identify him immediately, which helps him realize that Robin should not be in Metropolis, and especially not in full costume. Alarm bells are ringing in his head.

"I was warned you might show," Conner says, hovering in the air as he looks down at Robin.

"Then you know what you've done wrong," Robin calls back, unsheathing a sword from his back and pulling a batarang out of his pocket. "Come here and face the consequences."

"I'm fine where I'm at, thanks."

"It wasn't a request, Superboy."

"Superman," Conner frowns.

Robin sneers. "Not from what I see."

Conner feels a flare of anger surge within him. What was the big deal? He just needed to see you. He didn't hurt you — he would never dare — just stopped by your home to talk. And you did the same thing! Why some human with an eye mask and a sword feels like they can berate him for that, he doesn't know, but he's not going to take it lying down.

Faster than Robin can blink, Conner snatches the weapons from his hands and tosses them aside, then flips his cape over his head with a sneer.

"Go home, sidekick," Conner says. "I don't have time for this."

"I do."

Something hits Conner's back. It actually hurts, which is the surprising thing, and he yelps as a man in black and blue spandex descends upon him and starts beating him with a pair of escrima sticks. He falls to his knees, overwhelmed by a brand new sensory input he hasn't experienced before, then brings his arms up to shield his head and curls up further.

Nightwing, his brain registers between the blows. But according to his knowledge base, the man is usually not this violent. He always pulls back from an opponent when they duck down or hit the ground, and Conner is practically in fetal position. His sticks are glowing green, which is not a good sign. Conner feels sick.

"Oh, shit — hey, he's on the ground, pull it back!"

"This wasn't the plan, Nightwing, cool it —"

"I think he's doing great. Let him get a few more swings in."

"Robin you're not helping!"

"Seriously, get off him!"

Conner groans and gasps in pain. His whole body feels like it's on fire. There's sounds of a scuffle happening above him, but he picks up on someone else's shaky breathing a few yards away.

He cracks an eye open and spots a civilian half-hidden around the corner, filming everything happening.

The birds want to come to Metropolis and mess with him? Well, two can play at that game. They're about to be hated by the masses for touching the city's new golden boy.

Conner makes a panicked expression, lifts his arm and waves it in a sweeping motion, and starts shaking his head.

"R-run," he wheezes, "go, get away from here, get to safety!"

"What's he — shit! HEY, C'MERE!" Nightwing gasps, pointing at the civilian. The woman turns and darts into the building she was hiding by, fingers flying across her screen like lightning. "God dammit! Red Robin, can you —"

"I can't," the third figure standing by him says, sounding just as stressed. Conner recognizes both him and the Red Hood's silent figure, who had been physically holding Nightwing back from continuing to swing on him. Robin tsks and presses a few buttons on his gauntlet.

"We'll need to retreat and prepare to do damage control. The batmobile is coming, ETA 30 seconds. What do we do with him?" Robin kicks Conner's arm.

"We can't leave the kid. He's got Kryptonite poisoning and we dunno where his boss is to dump him for medical help," Red Robin says, crossing his arms and sighing. "We gotta take him with us and get the shards out."

"I say leave him anyway. It's just a couple pieces, and if he's as stupidly strong as the real Supes, he'll walk this off," Red Hood suggests.

"We wouldn't have to debate this if Nightwing had kept his cool," Robin grouches. Nightwing has the good graces to look chagrined and tucks his sticks away.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about...I'm sorry. C'mon, B will skin is alive if he finds out we left him for dead. Get him in the car."

They're about to abduct him, now, too? Conner almost laughs at the absurdity. All of this, just for paying you a visit? It's madness. But then he imagines some other stranger breaking into your room to talk to you, to touch you, to hurt you, and has to focus his energy to not start burning everything with his laser vision. It's not really absurd anymore. If he could draw a full breath without feeling like white-hot knives are slicing his vary atoms apart, Conner would attempt to explain himself. But he can't, so he doesn't.

He doesn't resist when two of them lift him and start loading his body into the back of a sleek, black vehicle. Metropolis' threats have been neutralized for today, so he technically doesn't need to stay in town. Instead, he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift.

They're taking him to Gotham, which is where you live. He has no qualms with that.

[elikajinnie]

Steal Your Way To My Heart - N.R (Part 4)

P: Bankrobber! Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Blood, Angst, Kidnapping, Seperation Anxiety?, Ni-ki just wanna spoil you.

Synopsis: Your life was boring—until a visit to the bank changes everything. Now you find yourself under the attention of one of the criminals. Now what do you do when the criminal's attention isn't just on the job but on you?

a/n: okay, so by popular vote, i delivered :) this was supposed to be posted long time ago, but moms turkish drama kept distracting me and had some relationship issues >:(

part 1 part 2 part 3

--

So you were officially Ni-ki’s girlfriend. And things were... surprisingly good. After that heist, he seemed to tone things down. Gone were the days of reckless, dangerous heists; now, he was the boyfriend you never expected—someone who picked you up from work or school, bought you your favorite flowers, and took you out on regular dates, always paying for the bill without a second thought.

He was thoughtful, attentive, but still had that intensity about him that kept you on your toes. But it wasn’t all just normal date nights and sweet moments. Ni-ki had an eye for luxury, and he wasted no time in decking you out in designer clothes and diamonds. Most of it you didn’t really use—you only wore the pieces that you truly loved—but you had to admit, his taste was impeccable. He knew exactly what suited you.

And like him, you found yourself matching with him often. He’d buy you clothes from the same brands he adored—mainly Chrome Hearts—and soon enough, you both became a walking, matching advertisement for the brand, with your outfits perfectly coordinated. Every time you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but appreciate how well everything fit. The diamonds glittered just as much as the smile Ni-ki gave you when he saw you in them.

But you always took a moment to remind him that you weren’t with him for the money. It wasn’t the luxury or the endless pampering that had won your heart, although you couldn’t deny you enjoyed it. No, you loved Ni-ki for who he was.

“Ni-ki,” you would say, catching his gaze as you adjusted the diamond necklace he had given you, “I don’t need all this.” You gestured to the designer clothes and the jewelry. “I love everything you get me, even if its something simple.”

He would smile, a genuine smile that reached his eyes, and pull you into a gentle embrace. “I know,” he’d reply, his voice soft and warm. “But I still want to spoil you.”

And he did. Ni-ki was everything you could have wanted in a man and more. He was protective, attentive, and incredibly loving in his own way. He listened when you talked about your day, made sure you had everything you needed, and never hesitated to show you just how much you meant to him. His love was sometimes overwhelming, but always real.

So you were quite surprised when, out of nowhere, Ni-ki disappeared. It wasn’t even gradual—it was like he just had been erased from existence overnight.

Your calls didn’t go through. Every message you sent was met with silence. The usual places where you’d expect to find him were void of any sign of him.

It was as though he had vanished off the face of the earth.

At first, you tried not to panic. Maybe he was laying low, being cautious because of something related to his “work.” It wasn’t uncommon for him to disappear for a day or two without much explanation. But this… this was different. Days stretched into weeks, and there was no trace of him.

The house plants he bought you started to wilt. The flowers he’d shower you with dried out in their vases. Even the expensive gifts that once felt like tokens of his love now felt like hollow remnants of someone who wasn’t there.

You told yourself to stop worrying, to trust that Ni-ki would show up like he always did. But there was this gnawing feeling in your chest that something was wrong. The man who never let a single detail slip, who checked in even during the middle of a heist, wouldn’t just leave without a word.

It wasn’t just his absence that hurt—it was the questions it left behind.

Had something gone wrong? Was he in danger? Did he leave to protect you? Or… had he chosen to leave you behind?

You couldn’t decide which thought was worse.

And so, you found yourself in limbo, walking through your days like a shadow of yourself. Every time you heard a car engine roar or the faint buzz of your phone, your heart jumped, hoping it was him. But it never was. It was like living in a constant state of waiting, with no end in sight.

Because no matter how dangerous or reckless Ni-ki was, he had never made you feel like this before—like you were completely and utterly alone.

You didn’t know what to do. Who could you even ask? Ni-ki didn’t exactly have a list of friends you could call up, and even if he did, would they tell you the truth? Would they even know?

You couldn’t go anywhere either, since over time, Ni-ki had subtly embedded himself into your life. His toothbrush sat next to yours in the bathroom, his favorite snacks were still in the kitchen cupboards, and his scent still lingered on the hoodie he’d left draped over the back of your couch. Everything around you was a reminder of him, of how present he used to be—and now, of how completely absent he was.

You felt helpless. All you could do was wait. Wait for a sign, for any kind of clue that Ni-ki was okay. That your boyfriend would return. That he hadn’t just dropped everything, ghosted you, and fled to another country or something, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life you’d built together.

And it wasn’t just his disappearance in your life that hit—it was the absence of him everywhere else, too.

There were no robberies, no heists, no headlines about criminals pulling off impossible jobs. Nothing.

Ni-ki’s world, the one you’d been reluctantly dragged into, seemed to vanish along with him. It was like he’d flipped a switch and erased himself completely, leaving no trace that he or his crew had ever existed.

And that terrified you.

Because if there were no heists, no rumors, and no movement in the underground world he thrived in… then what had happened to him?

You tried to keep yourself busy to stop your mind from spiraling. You went to work, cleaned the apartment, and even started wearing some of the designer clothes he’d bought for you—just so you wouldn’t see them lying untouched and feel that pang of loss all over again. But no matter how much you distracted yourself, the questions never left.

Where was he? Why had he disappeared? And most importantly—was he even still alive?

Each night, you’d sit on the edge of the bed you used to share, staring at your phone, willing it to buzz with a message from him. Just one word, one sign that he was out there, that he hadn’t forgotten about you.

But it never came.

And the silence, day after day, was slowly eating away at you.

Where could he have possibly gone?

You wondered that every single day. The question circled endlessly in your mind, eating away at you, consuming you whole. It kept you awake at night, staring at the ceiling as you tried to piece together a puzzle you didn’t have all the pieces for.

Had something gone wrong? Maybe the cops had finally caught up to him. Or worse, maybe a rival crew had taken him out.

Or—your heart clenched painfully at the thought—what if he had left on purpose?

You hated yourself for even entertaining the idea, but you couldn’t help it. Had all the promises, the whispered words, the moments he’d held you close meant nothing? You couldn’t shake the memory of how he used to look at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in his world. It didn’t make sense for him to just walk away from that.

But then again, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a predictable man.

You found yourself retracing your memories of him over and over, looking for signs you might have missed. Had he said something that hinted he might leave? Had there been a change in his behavior that you hadn’t noticed at the time?

But nothing came up.

You thought about the last night you’d spent together, how normal it had been. He’d kissed you goodnight, murmured something about taking care of “a few things,” and promised he’d see you the next day.

But that day never came.

And now you were left with a hollow ache in your chest and a million unanswered questions.

You tried searching for him. You went to places you knew he frequented, even places he’d warned you never to go. You lingered near shady alleys, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who might recognize you, who might know where Ni-ki was.

But every lead you tried came up empty. And no matter how much you told yourself to stop, to move on, you couldn’t. Because deep down, no matter how angry or hurt you were, you still loved him. And the thought of never seeing him again? That was something you couldn’t accept.

So since you couldn’t accept it, you decided to live with it.

He would return—eventually. He had to.

You clung to that belief, repeating it to yourself like a mantra. Ni-ki always had a way of showing up when you least expected it. He wasn’t the kind of man who just disappeared forever, not without a reason.

But until then, you had to keep going. Life didn’t pause for your heartbreak, no matter how much it felt like it should.

You went back to work, dragging yourself through each day. You tried to focus on the mundane things. It was easier to keep your mind occupied than to let yourself fall into the black hole of wondering why.

The apartment felt emptier than ever, though. His things were still there, little reminders of him scattered everywhere. His clothes in the closet, his jacket still hung by the door, and the scent of his cologne lingered faintly on the sheets.

You told yourself not to touch any of it, like leaving it all the way it was would somehow bring him back faster.

But the days kept going, and the silence became unbearable.

At night, you found yourself sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights, hoping that maybe you’d see him walking up the street. Or hear the familiar sound of his key turning in the lock.

But it never happened.

Instead, the city moved on without him, and you were left standing still, caught in the limbo of waiting.

And then, just when you started to think you might have to let go of the hope that had been keeping you afloat, something changed.

You were just outside, taking the trash out. It was ordinary, mundane, and the last thing you expected was for your life to take a sharp, terrifying turn.

As you tied up the trash bag and made your way toward the dumpster, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, something cold and hard pressed against the back of your head—a gun.

"Don't scream," a low voice ordered, calm but menacing.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as fear overtook your body. You barely had a chance to process the situation before rough hands grabbed you, shoving a bag over your head.

“Hey!” you yelled, but your voice was cut off as you were manhandled, your arms pinned to your sides. You thrashed as much as you could, but whoever had you was strong—too strong.

"Keep still," the voice snapped as you were dragged across the pavement.

The sound of a car door opening made your stomach drop.

You screamed again, the sound muffled by the bag over your head, but it didn’t matter. You were shoved into the car with enough force to knock the wind out of you.

The door slammed shut, and you felt the vehicle lurch forward as it sped off.

“Where are you taking me!?” you demanded.

No one answered.

You could hear a few voices around you, low murmurs you couldn’t make out, and the hum of the engine. Your mind raced. Who were these people? What did they want? And why did this feel so… targeted?

You thought of Ni-ki.

Was this connected to him? Had his criminal past caught up to him, and now you were caught in the crossfire?

The car continued to speed through the streets, the sound of the city growing distant. You struggled against your restraints, trying to think of a way out, but the hands that had grabbed you earlier kept you pinned down.

Eventually, the car slowed, and you felt it come to a stop.

The door opened, and you were pulled out, still blindfolded and disoriented.

“Walk,” the voice commanded, pushing you forward.

Your legs wobbled, but you forced yourself to move, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. You were led into a building—at least, you assumed so by the sound of a door creaking open and the change in the air.

“Sit,” the voice ordered, and you were shoved into a chair, the force making it scrape against the floor as you landed with a jolt.

Before you could even catch your breath, rough hands grabbed your arms and began tying them down to the chair.

“Wait, what are you doing? Let me go!” you shouted, panic flaring in your chest as you struggled against the bindings.

They ignored you, the rope burning against your wrists as they secured it tightly. You twisted and thrashed, managing to elbow one of them in the ribs. The man stumbled back with a grunt, and you seized the moment to push yourself off the chair.

The ropes weren’t fully secure yet, and with an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, you ripped free and yanked the bag off your head.

The sight before you made your blood run cold.

They weren’t Ni-ki’s people.

No, these were strangers, all wearing clown masks—grotesque, painted grins leering at you as they stood in a loose circle, armed with weapons.

Your breathing hitched as you stumbled back, trying to put as much distance between yourself and them as possible.

One of them stepped forward, clearly the leader, his mask more elaborate than the others with smeared red paint around the mouth and black streaks over the eyes. He held a knife in one hand, the blade catching the dim light.

He tilted his head, gesturing for you to come closer.

You froze, your mind racing. Did he really think you would just… walk to him voluntarily?

Disgust churned in your stomach at the audacity, and your body stiffened as the reality of your situation fully sank in.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

The man tilted his head further, almost amused, and took another step forward. The other masked figures began to shift, closing in around you like vultures circling prey.

Your pulse roared in your ears, but you clenched your fists, refusing to show fear.

“I said no,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice steady even as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

The leader stopped, his head tilting back slightly as if to examine you. Then, without warning, he lunged.

Instinct took over, and you dodged to the side just in time, the blade narrowly missing you. Your shoulder hit the wall hard, but you didn’t stop moving. You darted for the door, desperate to escape, but two of the masked figures stepped in front of it, blocking your path.

A sharp laugh came from the leader as he straightened, pointing the knife at you.

"Feisty," he said, his voice muffled slightly by the mask. He tilted his head, almost as if studying you. Then, with a low chuckle, he added, “Now I see why Wolf likes you.”

You froze, your blood running cold at the mention of Ni-ki’s alias. Not many people knew of his real name—unless they were part of his trusted circle.

The leader noticed your reaction and laughed again, clearly pleased by your response. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it?” he mocked, twirling the knife between his fingers. “Yeah, I know all about your little boyfriend. Wolf this, Wolf that. Always so damn secretive, isn’t he?”

“What do you want?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

He ignored your question, taking another step closer. “You wanna know where your precious Wolf went?” he asked, his tone teasing, dripping with condescension.

Your brows furrowed despite yourself, and you hated how you hesitated. Did he know? Did they have something to do with Ni-ki disappearing?

He noticed the flicker of curiosity in your eyes and smirked beneath the mask. “Ah, there it is,” he said. “You do want to know. But then again… should you? I mean, if he really cared about you, don’t you think he would’ve told you himself? Instead of just up and vanishing like that?”

“That’s not—” you began to argue, but he cut you off.

“No, no,” he said, wagging the knife at you like you were some misbehaving child. “Let’s be real here. Do you honestly think he told you everything? Do you really think you’re anything more than a little toy to him? Something pretty to keep around, just for fun?”

“That’s not true,” you said through gritted teeth, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to stay calm.

“Isn’t it?” he pressed, his tone taunting. “Think about it. You’re sitting here, clueless, while we know where he is. Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you, huh? Maybe you’re not as important to him as you think.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You knew Ni-ki cared for you—you felt it in the way he looked at you, touched you, protected you. But the nagging doubt his words planted began to twist in your mind.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your voice trembling with barely contained anger.

“Oh, hit a nerve, did I?” the man said, his laughter echoing around the room. “Poor little thing, left in the dark by the guy who’s supposed to love you. Face it—he’s been playing you from the start.”

“I said shut up!” you shouted, your voice cracking as frustration and fear boiled over.

The man took another step toward you. “Aw, don’t get mad at me. I’m just telling you the truth. If Wolf really loved you, he wouldn’t have left you like this. He’s probably already moved on, you know. That’s what guys like him do—they don’t stick around. You’re just—”

Before he could finish, the sound of a loud crash came from outside the room, followed by shouts. The leader’s head snapped toward the door, his body tensing.

You felt a flicker of hope spark in your chest, though you had no idea what was happening.

The man turned back to you, narrowing his eyes behind the mask. “Stay put,” he ordered, pointing the knife at you, then pointed sharply at two of his men. “You two, stay here. Don’t let her move,” he barked, his voice sharp. Then, without another glance at you, he disappeared through the door, followed by the rest of the masked figures.

The room fell silent, save for the faint, muffled sound of shouting and movement outside. You froze, your breath shallow, as tension wrapped around you.

The two men left behind didn’t seem particularly thrilled about their assignment. One leaned against the wall, lazily spinning a pistol in his hand, while the other paced back and forth, gripping a shotgun tightly.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” the pacing man muttered under his breath, his steps growing quicker as his nerves got the better of him.

“Probably just a distraction,” the other said casually, though his tone didn’t match the unease in his body language. “Nothing to worry about.”

But then the sound of gunfire ripped through the air, loud and unmistakable. Both men snapped to attention, their heads whipping toward the door.

The pacing man cursed under his breath, his hands tightening around the shotgun. “That didn’t sound like nothing,” he hissed.

The other man straightened, his casual demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Stay sharp,” he muttered, raising his pistol and taking a defensive stance.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched them, trying to make sense of what was happening. Was it the police? Another rival group? Or—could it possibly be Ni-ki?

The thought made your stomach twist. You didn’t dare hope, but the timing was too coincidental to ignore.

Another round of gunfire erupted, this time closer. The shouts outside grew louder, more frantic, and you saw the pacing man glance at the door nervously.

“What if—” he started, but before he could finish, the door burst open with a deafening crash.

A masked figure stormed in, moving too quickly for you to process, and before the two men could react, shots rang out. The man with the shotgun dropped first, crumpling to the ground, followed by the other, who barely managed to fire a shot before falling.

You screamed, your body instinctively curling in on itself at the scene that unfolded in front of you.

The masked figure turned to you, their weapon still raised. But then, as if realizing who you were, they slowly, they lowered the gun and reached up to pull off their mask.

Your breath caught in your throat as familiar dark eyes met yours.

Ni-ki.

He was breathing hard, his face splattered with blood—none of it his, from what you could tell. His expression was sharp, focused, but the second he saw you, it softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

Ni-ki moved toward you quickly and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him.

“We need to go,” he said, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward the door and out.

“What—how did you—” you stammered, your mind racing with questions, but Ni-ki cut you off.

“Not now,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

You barely had time to nod before Ni-ki’s hand tightened around yours, his grip both protective and urgent. He moved with precision, his steps calculated, as though he had memorized every corner.

The hallway was dimly lit and reeked of sweat and blood. Bodies lay scattered along the floor, some moving in pain, others motionless. You stumbled over one of them, but Ni-ki was quick to steady you, pulling you closer to him as though shielding you from the reality of what you were walking through.

“Stay close to me,” he muttered, his voice low but firm.

The sound of gunfire echoed down the hall, making you flinch. Ni-ki cursed under his breath and pulled you into a side room, pressing you against the wall as he peeked out into the corridor.

You could hear muffled voices shouting orders in the distance, along with the unmistakable clang of boots against the floor.

“They’re regrouping,” Ni-ki muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Who are they?” you whispered, your voice shaking as you gestured vaguely toward the chaos outside. “And why—why did they take me?”

Ni-ki glanced back at you, his dark eyes intense. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to tell you everything, but instead, he shook his head.

“Later,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now, we just need to get out of here alive.”

He leaned back out into the hallway, checking the coast again before grabbing your hand and pulling you back into motion.

The two of you moved quickly, Ni-ki guiding you through a maze of hallways and rooms. You didn’t know where you were going, but you trusted him. You had to.

Eventually, you came to a set of metal doors. Ni-ki pushed one open slightly, peeking out before motioning for you to follow.

The outside air hit you like a shock, cold and biting against your skin. You were in an alleyway, the narrow space lit only by a flickering streetlamp. A black car idled a few feet away, its engine running.

“Get in,” Ni-ki ordered, opening the passenger door for you.

You hesitated for a moment, your legs frozen as your mind tried to catch up with everything that had happened.

“Now,” Ni-ki snapped, his voice sharp but not unkind.

The urgency in his tone jolted you into action. You climbed into the car, and Ni-ki quickly shut the door before jogging around to the driver’s side. He slid in, slamming the door behind him, and immediately hit the gas.

The tires screeched as the car sped out of the alley, merging into the flow of late-night traffic.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You stared out the window, your heart still racing, as the city lights blurred past.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Ni-ki… what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were focused on the road ahead.

“Those men,” he finally said, his voice low and controlled, “were enemies. Rivals. They’ve been trying to get to me for months, and when they couldn’t, they went after you instead.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you warn me this could happen?”

Ni-ki’s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “I thought I had it under control. I didn’t want to drag you into this mess.”

“But they did drag me into it,” you said, your voice rising slightly. “And you disappeared, Ni-ki! I thought—” Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing hard.

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I had to disappear. They were closing in, and I needed to make sure they couldn’t find you. But I didn’t think they’d figure out where you were so fast.”

You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, fear, and relief. “So what now? Are they going to keep coming after us?”

Ni-ki was silent for a moment before answering. “Not if I finish this.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. You didn’t know exactly what “finishing this” entailed, but you knew it wasn’t going to be anything simple—or safe.

For now, though, you were too exhausted to push for answers. You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes as you tried to process everything.

--

You were angry. Angry and hurt. But mostly angry.

The more you tried to push it down, the harder it fought to rise. You didn’t want to admit it, but that guys’ words had gotten to you. They’d planted a seed of doubt that wouldn’t stop growing, no matter how much you wanted to tear it out.

Because the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Ni-ki had always been secretive, careful with his words, deflecting questions he didn’t want to answer. He’d always told you it was to keep you safe, to protect you from the world he was a part of—but was that all it was?

You hated the doubt clawing at you. It felt like a betrayal to even consider it, but how could you not? He hadn’t told you where he was going or what he was doing. He’d disappeared for a month without a word, leaving you to question everything. And now, after swooping in to save you, he dropped you off at this fancy, unfamiliar hotel like you were some burden and vanished again.

It had been three hours since he left. Three hours of silence, alone in this room, alone with your spiraling thoughts.

You paced the room, the plush carpet soft under your feet as you walked back and forth. The anger bubbled under the surface, growing hotter and heavier with each passing second. You felt like you were going to explode.

How could he do this to you? How could he keep so much from you—things that mattered, things that directly involved you?

You looked around the room, the expensive décor and luxurious furniture mocking you. The place was beautiful, no doubt, but it felt cold and empty. It wasn’t home. It wasn’t comforting. It was just another thing Ni-ki had decided for you without asking.

You tried calling him again, for what felt like the hundredth time, but it went straight to voicemail. No message. No update. Nothing.

The anger surged again, and you threw your phone onto the bed with a frustrated groan. You felt like you were going in circles, your mind chasing answers that weren’t there.

All you wanted was the truth. Was that so much to ask?

You sat down on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. The doubt crept back in, the voices whispering in your head.

He doesn’t trust you. You’re just someone to keep him entertained. If he really cared, he wouldn’t leave you like this.

You hated that those thoughts felt so convincing.

Because deep down, you knew they weren’t entirely wrong. Ni-ki never told you the full truth about his life, and no matter how much you loved him, no matter how much he said he loved you, there was always a wall between you.

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to cry. You wanted to be mad. Mad was better than hurt. Mad was easier to deal with.

The sound of your phone buzzing snapped you out of your thoughts. You grabbed it quickly, hoping it was him, but it wasn’t. Just another notification you didn’t care about.

You sighed and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

You didn’t know how long you’d be stuck here, waiting for him, waiting for answers. All you knew was that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

If Ni-ki wanted you to trust him, he had to start trusting you too. Because if he didn’t… you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep doing this.

When he eventually did return, it was late at night. You had already gone to bed, the room dark and quiet, when the sound of the door unlocking and opening made you sit up abruptly. You fumbled for the light switch, turning on the bedside lamp, and your eyes widened as you saw Ni-ki standing there.

His clothes were smeared with blood, dark streaks painting his shirt and jacket. His face looked tired, a faint cut across his cheekbone, and his knuckles were raw and bruised.

He looked surprised to see you awake, his usual calm demeanor faltering for just a moment. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice soft but laced with exhaustion. He stepped further into the room, quickly scanning you from head to toe. “Are you okay? Did anything happen?”

You pushed his hands away when he reached for you. “Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling with anger and worry.

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated, your voice rising as you threw the blankets off and stood from the bed. “Ni-ki, look at you! You’re covered in blood! You’ve been gone for hours, and you come back like this and expect me to just—what? Pretend everything’s fine?”

“It’s not my blood,” he said simply, as if that was supposed to make you feel better.

You froze, staring at him in disbelief. His words rendered you speechless for a moment, the weight of them sinking in.

“Not your blood?” you finally managed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “That’s not the point, Ni-ki! You disappear without a word, leave me alone in some random hotel, and then show up like this? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“It was business,” he said flatly, his tone calm but guarded.

That made your anger boil over. “It’s always business with you!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Every time! It’s like you think I don’t deserve to know what’s going on. You vanish, come back covered in blood, and all you can say is business?”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly as his bruised knuckles brushed against his scalp. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

“Then make me understand!” you snapped, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I’m tired of this, Ni-ki. Tired of wondering if you’re okay, tired of sitting here not knowing if you’re going to come back. It’s like you don’t trust me, like you don’t think I’m worth the truth!”

He stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not that simple,” you repeated bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Of course, it’s not. Nothing with you ever is.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension between you palpable. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever he’d been carrying. But that didn’t erase the fact that you were tired too—tired of being left in the dark, tired of feeling like you were fighting for a place in his life.

“I’m going to clean up,” he finally said, his voice low. He turned toward the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to glance back at you. “We’ll talk after.”

But you didn’t respond. You just turned away, sitting back on the bed with your back to him.

You heard the sound of running water a moment later, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. You wanted to believe him, to believe that he cared as much as he said he did, but how could you when he brushed you off like that?

When Ni-ki returned, his steps were lighter, freshly showered, dressed in clean clothes, and with damp hair dripping slightly onto the collar of his shirt. He looked at you, expecting to find you asleep, but instead, you sat upright in bed, the glow of your phone casting shadows over your face.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, his voice low with a mix of surprise and guilt.

You didn’t look up from your phone, your fingers idly scrolling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

His brows furrowed, but he said nothing more as he climbed into bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and after a moment, he scooted closer, slipping an arm around your waist in an attempt to pull you against him.

You immediately shuffled away, putting space between the two of you.

He froze, his arm hovering in the empty space where you’d just been. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with worry.

You finally set your phone down and turned to face him, your expression heavy with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Ni-ki.”

His eyes widened slightly, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean?”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of your thoughts crashing down all at once. “You’ve been gone for a month, Ni-ki. A whole month. No calls, no messages, nothing. I didn’t know if you were alive, if you were ever coming back. And then, out of nowhere, you swoop in when I’m in trouble like it’s just another day, like none of it matters.”

“It does matter,” he said quickly, his voice firm as he sat up straighter.

“Does it?” you shot back, your tone sharp. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You disappear without a word, you keep me in the dark about everything important, and then you show up expecting me to just go along with it, like none of this is supposed to bother me. Do you even…” You paused, your voice breaking slightly as the words caught in your throat. “Do you even love me?”

He stared at you, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out at first. Instead, he reached for you, pulling you into his arms despite your protests and attempts to squirm away.

“Let me go,” you muttered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“No,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Ni-ki—”

“Listen to me,” he interrupted gently, his voice low but steady. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re the only thing in my life that feels real, the only thing I come back to when everything else is chaos. You’re the reason I keep going.”

You shook your head, your hands weakly pressing against his chest as you tried to push him away. “You can’t just say that—”

“I love the way you fight me on everything,” he continued, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “I love the way you look at me like you can see right through me, like you see the parts of me no one else does. I love the way you don’t care about the money, or the things I do—you just care about me.”

“Stop,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his face in your hair. “And I’m sorry for everything. For leaving you alone, for making you feel like you don’t matter. You do, okay? You matter more than anything.”

Despite yourself, despite the anger and hurt you still felt, his words broke through the walls you’d tried so hard to put up. The weight of your emotions came crashing down, and you finally gave in, collapsing against him as the tears spilled over.

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, your body shaking with quiet sobs as he held you close, his arms strong and steady around you. “I hate you,” you mumbled weakly, though there was no real malice behind the words.

He chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “I know. I know, I would hate me too.”

You didn’t respond, too exhausted and overwhelmed to say anything more. And as he continued to hold you, whispering quiet reassurances and pressing soft kisses to your hair, you realized something.

You had missed him so much.

You woke up the next morning to the weight of Ni-ki draped over you, clinging to you like a koala. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, and his head was squished against your chest, his messy hair tickling your chin. You blinked groggily, taking in the sight of him, so peaceful in his sleep.

For a moment, you just stared, letting yourself savor the quiet moment. There was something in the way he held you, like you were the one thing in his life he couldn’t let go of.

Unable to resist, you slowly brought your hand up to his hair, carding your fingers through the soft strands. He responded immediately, leaning into your touch and groaning sleepily, his grip on you tightening as if to say, don’t stop.

You smiled faintly, your fingers continuing to glide through his hair. It was moments like these that made it so hard to stay mad at him, to even consider walking away. But the thoughts you’d had the night before still lingered in the back of your mind, refusing to let you rest.

After a while, you decided you needed to get up. Slowly and carefully, you began the long and arduous task of peeling Ni-ki off you. It was no easy feat—he grumbled in protest, his arms tightening around you whenever you tried to wiggle free. He buried his face further into your chest, muttering something incoherent, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes affectionately.

“Ni-ki,” you whispered softly, brushing his hair back. “Let go.”

He groaned but didn’t budge, his grip still firm. It took several more minutes of gently prying his arms away and untangling yourself from his hold, but eventually, you managed to slip out from under him.

As you stood, you glanced back at him. He had turned onto his side, still deep in sleep, his hair a mess and his lips slightly parted. He looked so carefree, so unlike the Ni-ki you usually saw—guarded, calculating, always one step ahead.

You sighed quietly and turned away, grabbing your clothes and getting dressed before quietly slipping out of the room. You needed some time to think, to process everything.

Your feelings for Ni-ki weren’t the issue. You loved him—of that, you were certain. But loving him wasn’t the same as being able to handle the life that came with him. The secrecy, the danger, the constant wondering if he was okay or if you’d ever see him again. It was exhausting, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

And so, you left the room, leaving Ni-ki behind in his slumber. You needed to figure out what you really wanted, what this relationship meant for you both.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on you. Ni-ki had spent so long running, leaving you behind to think and worry in his absence. Now, it was your turn to take the space you needed—even if only for a little while.

And so, you took the space you needed. After everything, it was your turn to vanish—not completely, of course. You still had responsibilities to attend to, places to be, and tasks to complete. But for Ni-ki, you became a ghost.

You didn’t answer his calls. Each time your phone buzzed with his name on the screen, you ignored it, staring at the device until it fell silent. The texts he sent—long, short, questioning, apologetic—went unanswered. Even when he rang your doorbell, you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You’d sit silently inside, barely breathing, until you heard the sound of him leaving.

At work, you made sure to disappear when he showed up, ducking into the breakroom or slipping out the back. At school, you avoided the places you thought he might look for you. When you did catch glimpses of him—standing at a distance, scanning the crowd, his expression filled with frustration and concern—you’d slip away before he could see you.

You told yourself it wasn’t forever. That this was what you needed, a chance to clear your head and sort through the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But each time you saw his name pop up on your phone or caught sight of him searching for you, a pang of guilt struck you deep.

Still, you couldn’t bear to face him right now. You couldn’t look into those eyes, so full of emotion, and risk falling apart all over again. You needed this time. Time to figure out if you could handle everything that came with loving someone like Ni-ki.

And so, you stayed hidden, even as part of you ached to open the door, to pick up the phone, to let him explain everything. Because, despite the distance you’d created, you couldn’t stop missing him.

Ni-ki wasn’t the kind of person to give up easily, though. And you knew, deep down, that this wouldn’t be the end. Not for him, not for you.

But what could you really do when someone like Ni-ki was your boyfriend? It was only a matter of time before he got to you again.

It happened when you least expected it—again. You were outside, tossing a bag of trash into the dumpster, then, like a shadow slipping out of nowhere, Ni-ki appeared behind you.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

You froze, your hand still gripping the edge of the dumpster. Slowly, you turned to face him. He looked the same as always, but his eyes were different. They weren’t filled with their usual confidence or amusement. Instead, they looked tired. Frustrated.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you muttered, though the words felt weak even to your own ears.

Ni-ki scoffed softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sure, you weren’t.”

You glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, but you knew there wasn’t one. Not from him. "What do you want, Ni-ki?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. "I want you to stop avoiding me," he said. His tone wasn’t angry, but there was an edge to it, a quiet insistence. "You’ve been ignoring me for days. Do you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Maybe I wanted you to notice," you shot back, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Ni-ki tilted his head, studying you with those dark, piercing eyes. "So, what? You wanted me to chase you?"

"I wanted space!" you snapped, your voice louder now. "I needed time to think, Ni-ki. About us. About this." You gestured vaguely between the two of you, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You can’t just keep vanishing and showing up whenever you feel like it. That’s not fair to me."

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. The silence hung heavy between you, broken only by the distant sound of a car passing by. Then he stepped closer again, and this time, you didn’t move away.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “I messed up. I should’ve told you what was going on. I just... I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, your anger still simmering but mingled now with disbelief. “You didn’t know how to tell your girlfriend where you were going or why you disappeared for a month?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” he admitted, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I thought... if I kept you out of it, you’d be safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Safe? Do you know how scared I was when you disappeared? How much worse it made everything when those guys showed up and—” Your voice cracked, and you quickly stopped, swallowing hard.

Ni-ki’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “I know. And I hate that you had to go through that. But I came back, didn’t I?”

"That’s not the point, Ni-ki," you said, your voice quieter now. “It’s not just about coming back. It’s about not leaving me in the dark in the first place.”

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him in the cold night air. “I’m trying,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t... I don’t know how to do this. The whole relationship thing. But I’m trying.”

You stared at him, your anger still lingering but softening slightly at the vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re not making it easy,” you muttered.

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When have I ever made anything easy?”

Despite yourself, you almost smiled at that. But you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “This is serious, Ni-ki,” you said, your tone firm. “If you want this to work, you have to stop shutting me out. I can’t do this if you’re just going to disappear every time things get messy.”

He nodded slowly, his expression more serious now. “I know. And I promise, I’ll do better. Just... don’t give up on me. On us.”

You hesitated, studying him closely. He looked sincere, but you couldn’t help wondering if that would be enough. Still, as much as you wanted to stay mad, a part of you wanted to believe him. To give him another chance.

“I’m not promising anything,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “But... I’ll think about it.”

Ni-ki smiled faintly, and for the first time, it felt genuine. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You took the time you needed, allowing the days to pass slowly as you sorted through your thoughts. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when you doubted whether anything would change.

After a week of space, you decided it was time. You texted Ni-ki, asking him to come over to talk. You weren’t sure what the conversation would look like, but you knew you couldn’t keep pushing him away, and you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

When the doorbell rang later that evening, your heart was pounding in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in days, and the anticipation was nerve-wracking. You took a deep breath before walking over and opening the door.

There he was, standing on your doorstep with that familiar hoodie, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his expression unreadable. But there was something different in the way he stood—more uncertain, almost... nervous.

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where to begin. But then, his eyes met yours, and he spoke first.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Yeah. We need to.”

The air between you felt thick with everything that had been left unsaid, but neither of you moved until you both sat down in the living room. Ni-ki took a seat across from you, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze focused on the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“I know I messed up,” he began, his voice low. “I hurt you. I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, and I... I’m sorry for that. I never meant to make you feel abandoned or like you didn’t matter.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice, but the sting of his absence still lingered. “I just don’t understand why you thought it was okay to just disappear. To leave me without any explanation. I’ve been asking myself that over and over,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I know you think you were protecting me, but... it felt like you were shutting me out. Like I wasn’t even part of your world.”

Ni-ki ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he sighed. “I get that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve communicated with you, let you know what was going on. But I didn’t. I kept everything to myself because I thought I was doing the right thing... keeping you safe.”

You shook your head. “But that’s not how a relationship works, Ni-ki. You don’t just keep secrets. You don’t disappear without saying anything. And you can’t keep making decisions without me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I messed up, and I’m not proud of it. But I’m here now. I’m here because I want to fix this. I want to make things right with you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t take that back, but I’ll do anything to prove that I care. That I’m not just using you.”

His words hit you hard, and for a moment, you looked down at your hands, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to keep holding on to the anger and the hurt, but it was hard to shake off the feeling of betrayal.

“I don’t know, Ni-ki,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure if I can just forget what happened. It’s not just about you disappearing—it’s everything that came with it. The way you treated me like I was some kind of afterthought.”

Ni-ki moved closer to you, his hand gently reaching out for yours. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forget. But I need you to know that I want to be here. I want to make things right. I love you. And I’ll prove it every day.”

You hesitated, still holding on to the doubts and the pain. But his hand in yours felt like a lifeline, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe things could be different. Maybe he could change.

“I don’t know if it will be easy,” you said softly, “but I’ll try. I’ll try if you promise me that you’ll be honest with me. That you won’t keep things from me anymore.”

Ni-ki nodded, his grip tightening on your hand. “I promise. No more secrets.”

--

It felt surreal, the way things shifted after Ni-ki made that promise. He wasn’t just physically present—he was emotionally there too, in ways you hadn’t expected. The first thing you’d see when you woke up was him, his face relaxed in sleep, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as if he were content just being there with you. And the last thing you saw before sleep was him, his warm arms around you, ensuring that you were safe and cared for.

You noticed how he didn’t leave your side much. Whether it was at home, walking you to work, or even just sitting on the couch together, he made sure to be near you, always close enough to reassure you that he was there for good. There were no more of those long, unexplained absences. No more shadows lurking over the relationship. He was there. He was committed.

One evening, as you were sitting together on the couch, your curiosity got the better of you. It had been weeks since you’d noticed any signs of the heists he’d been involved in—no more late-night disappearances, no more mysterious meetings. You decided to ask him outright.

“Ni-ki... I’ve been meaning to ask,” you said, your voice tentative, “What happened to all those heists? All that... the stuff you used to do?”

He tensed slightly, his eyes flicking to yours before he took a slow breath. “I quit,” he said simply, the words carrying weight that took you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “You quit? Like, for real?”

Ni-ki nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “Yeah. I realized it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore. I don’t want to be that person who hides behind masks and lies. I don’t want to drag you into that world. I’ve done enough to screw things up already.”

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of relief. He had quit? For you?

“You... you quit for me?” You whispered, almost unable to believe it.

He nodded again, reaching out to take your hand in his. “For both of us. I’m serious about us, about you. I don’t want to lose you. So I’m going to get a real job, a legitimate one. I want a future with you, and that’s not going to happen if I’m still out there, risking everything.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth in every word. Ni-ki had always been unpredictable, but in this moment, he seemed more grounded, more determined than you had ever seen him.

You took a deep breath, the weight of it all sinking in. “I... I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ni-ki said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I just wanted you to know. I want to build something real with you. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

Ni-ki had been reckless and wild in the past, but now, here he was—showing up for you in ways that were more meaningful than any flashy gesture or promise could convey.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Okay. I believe you.”

And that was all you needed to hear from him.

You leaned into him, letting yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

You were both living in the moment, together.

a/n: this is the last chapter of this fic :) hope you all enjoyed it and stayed for the journey <3

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