#JUST FOR THIS. just so he can extort his gang and make others feel bad

[triglycercule]

nightmare's gang but they're one of those youtube family channels that extorts the kids. HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

i mean cmon man managing his multiversal takeover scheme must take a lot of money. nightmare needs a source of income. so what better than to torture and extort his gang even more. he makes them behave and act entertaining for the camera because if not they get beat and punished. he has cameras everywhere in the castle for content and to monitor everyone. people online are worried about the "kids" on the channel because they are CLEARLY being abused and exploited. nightmare gets a feast of negativity from these peoples' worries. now do i think that he would be cruel enough to force his gang to act like children for this channel?? i dunno,,,,,,,, perchance (YOU CAN'T JUST SAY PERCHANCE)

idk there's definitely a lot more than could be done with this stupid idea. but i just think,,,,,, i just think it would be funny,,,,, think about it,,,,,,,,,,

[min-jpg]

Hi!! Can you do they boys getting kidnapped but its Diluc, Childe, and Kazuha? Thank you!!💗💗

Note: I just want to point out that there's no actual reason on how I choose for the reader to beat up the kidnappers since part 1,, it's totally random as long as I'm trying out different ideas whatever fits ehe. Enjoy! 💖

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Kidnapped Genshin Boys x Fem Rich!reader pt.2

Part 1 (Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao)

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Kazuha

Genre: fluff, established relationship, some woman kicking ass action, (TW: mentions of blood and violence)

---

CHILDE

Your boyfriend would definitely try to go head-to-head against the shady group of people who abducted him. The gang accountable must be living under the rock for even considering one of the most dangerous Harbingers as their prey to carry out their schemes.

However, Childe learned that there would be ramifications if he tries to be rash without gathering solid intel first. Having no knowledge of your current circumstances and whereabouts troubled him to the core. They could have already sent out a corresponding group towards you and endanger you if he failed to listen.

Being wealthy is not a foreign concept to Childe as he is also a wealthy man himself. That said, the premonition of being a target for a ransom would not be unrealistic to him. For now, he is glad that he is the victim here instead of having to witness you kidnapped.

"You know, you could've asked me nicely for some money. I might just give it to you, instead of doing all this for my girlfriend's money." Despite being in a position far from desirable, Childe leisurely sat on the chair that he was bound to, crossing his legs. He was making small talks to push away the worst scenarios happening to you. Are you safe? Are you crying? Did they hurt you?

"I don't know who you are to be running your mouth, but you should value your life a little more." Their leader emerged from the group.

Childe's ocean eyes squinted as menace casts upon his pupils, his voice lowered, "Is that so? Ironic, because you guys seem to value money more than your lives."

The head stepped back slightly, "Enough with your empty threats! You should be aware of the current situation you're in. We're not fooling around here."

"I'm not fooling around either."

As sparks were thrown back and forth, you made your way in through the main entrance. Tapping the shoulder that belongs to one of the men, "Excuse me, I need to get to my boyfriend." Your fist sunk into the side of his face when he turned towards you. He collapsed on the ground with a few broken teeth and blood spewing out of his mouth. Moving on to the next adversary in your path, you fought with full faith in your abilities no matter how intimidating they were.

Soon, the leader and people further ahead finally took notice of it. You pave your way towards your boyfriend and eventually, both your eyes meet each other. Childe puffed out a breath of relief when he finally saw you, but also registering the fact that you just took down most of the men with your bare hands.

Kicking away the men who tried to grab you, you then waved enthusiastically at Childe, "Hey girlie, hold still." Rushing right ahead to the leader, you brought your arm near your face, elbow pointing outwards. The sharp edge from your elbow jabbed his throat, causing him to choke and lose balance.

As his reaction dulled, it was your chance to strike again. Thus, you gallantly overthrew their leader and the entire gang by yourself.

After helping Childe, he stood up abruptly and placed his hands on your shoulder with eagerness written all over the face, "I never knew you could fight so well! How about a spar with me right now?" Expect your boyfriend to continuously bug you to indulge in his rampant itch to fight anyone that comes across as a worthy opponent. Though, the real takeaway from this experience was the way your hair clings to your face with sweat as the adhesive and the triumph look in your eyes. It was a rather attractive sight to relish in his taste.

DILUC

Your boyfriend would be infuriated that crooked people like these exist, much less target him to extort money from you. Just another validation to add up on how incompetent the Knights of Favonious is, he thought. Someone will have to clean up their mess, that someone being him. What better way to do that than to follow them to their hideout to seek out the whole organization?

Diluc is renowned for being one of the richest men in Teyvat. Naturally, the group thought they hit the jackpot on not only holding him for ransom, but potentially garnering some money from him as well.

The only concern he carries is your wellbeing. Diluc fears that this incident will affect you mentally. His head started filling up with formulations on ways to resolve this matter without causing any uproar to guarantee your safety.

When the head was introduced to him, he gritted his teeth to suppress every ounce of his might to not reach for his claymore. Diluc still has to prioritize gathering information first regarding the gang. His patrons at Angel's Share are usually the ones providing him with promising intel of any evildoers, but some things are just meant to be obtained by himself.

"Is this the only hideout you have? Quite in a shambles, don't you think?" Diluc's eyes shifted around the dilapidated building, observing the surroundings to know his enemies better.

The leader rolled his eyes, "It wouldn't be so bad once we get some funding from you and your girlfriend." Diluc hummed. Judging from his answer, it is safe to assume that the organization is rather a small scaling one. Defeating them right now will result in uprooting the source once and for all.

As Diluc was about to do so, a lackey of the gang ran frantically towards them, panting labored when he reached and trying to catch his breath. "What is it?" The leader question.

"T-there's... there's someone." He pointed towards a direction with fear layering his voice.

"What? Why are you so scared?" They all glanced towards the spot.

"I swear there was a woman! I don't know who it is, but she took out some of our guys on guard outside."

In disbelief that a woman could have done anything so reckless, the leader trudged to said location. As it is a spot lacking light, the darkness and shadow made it challenging for him to pinpoint if anyone is there. When he moved closer, you crept out behind from his blind spot and kicked the back of his head, causing his head to spin. Your arm lunged forward, gaining a tight hold onto his nape. You put everything into pushing him, his forehead hammered down to the floor. Creating a loud thud, it gave him a concussion.

"Looking for me?" Your foot stamped onto his back, just making sure he stays down.

Everyone, including your boyfriend, had their pupils dilated at the scene. You sighed at the silence, "All of you just messed with the wrong couple." Lifting your foot away, you stomped forward without giving them a second thought. Your arms and legs are all warmed up for many rounds against your foes.

Diluc watched you from afar as you drove your way towards victory. Although he could step in to help, he admits silently to himself that he would like to observe you a little longer. Putting his trust in your calibers to carry you far, his eyes never left your brave figure.

Once you cleared the group, the next thing to do is checking on Diluc. Already unfastening the restrains himself, he walked to you, "That was well executed. Your abilities shouldn't be underestimated. Don't join the Knights though." He stressed the last remark, scoffing. You chuckled and held his hand to guide him out of here, "Thanks. Glad to impress you, Master Diluc. Let's go home."

KAZUHA

Your boyfriend is a rather hard target to impose on for their plans of kidnapping him. His senses are just too refined for an ordinary person to challenge. Basic tactics, such as overthrowing him with the element of surprise have proven to be futile. Thus, Kazuha will always be able to evade falling prey into their hands.

The only way Kazuha could have been kidnapped is through falsifying evidence of you being in a life-threatening situation. Although he has successfully saved his own skin, not the same could be applied to you. Feeling his resolve shaken, what other choices could he have? Prioritizing your safety is the most important thing right now.

Kazuha may have faced similar situations in the past when out in the sea, encountering pirates of other crew aiming for the Crux Fleet's fortune. Being in the position as a captive for ransom is new. He actually found it amusing, rather than having thoughts of blaming you. It is not your fault that you are blessed with wealth. It is the fault of the criminals.

"Ain't you that the kid who's with Beidou? You're part of her crew." The leader questioned his target, to which he was greeted by Kazuha's silence. "Tell you what. You're just like the rest of us. We want to be rich. How about you ask your girlfriend to bring some more money and we'll give you a share as well?"

Kazuha's face darkened, "I don't know what you've heard, but it must be really valiant of you to assume to worst out of the Crux Fleet and myself. I'd appreciate it if you cease lumping me together with criminals like you."

The Crux Fleet does put up with an infamous reputation amongst the Qixing. Perhaps the abductors concluded that Kazuha has a negative conscience just like them, as in upholding a relationship with you to have a taste of your assets. Still, if he tried to talk his way out of it, barbarians like them will never reach a mutual understanding with him. Kazuha shut his eyes, ignoring any further confrontations to preserve his energy as he contemplates a plan.

He was interrupted when he thought he heard your voice nearby, carried by the wind. The others around him did not hear it since it was just something only Kazuha could pick up. Applying full concentration, he managed to form what he heard, "Get out of my way, please, while I'm asking nicely."

Opening his eyes, he turned to stare at the entrance. As if on cue, the door swung open when you kicked it down, announcing your presence. Some men fainted below your feet.

The others instantly reacted by storming towards your direction to stop your advancement. You stood still in your position, taking a mindful deep breath. One thing you learned from Kazuha is to always remain cold-headed before engaging in a fight.

Kazuha wanted to get out of the restraints to rescue you, but instead, you started dishing out few moves against the men.

When you thought you finished with the remaining numbers, their leader was about to declare his victory, "I got you!" Encircling his arm around your neck in an attempt to strangle you, you huffed and grinned towards Kazuha to signal him you have it under control.

You elbowed his stomach and felt him loosen his grip when he winced. Making enough gap between his arm and your neck, you slipped away and swiftly kicked in between his groins. The color drained from his face and tumbled to the ground, passing out in pain, "Hmph, this is what happens when you touch a lady without her permission." You brushed away the hair from your face after an arduous fight.

Jogging towards your boyfriend, "Kazuha!" He brisked towards you as well and held you in his embrace, softly rubbed your nape, "You're giving me plenty of inspirations for a haiku after such a wonderful performance." Kazuha would appreciate you refraining from such a heedless approach next time. He was comforted to see you safe and knowing the threats were nothing more than to use you, his weakness, against him. After witnessing that, Kazuha will be slightly ashamed he even doubted you in the first place, so he trusts that you can watch out for yourself next time.

[hacked-by-jake]

Take you home ²

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞...

>𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷

Summary: Jake can’t accept that this has been done to you, the thought torments him, and all he wants is revenge, and he gets it.

Words: 4,2k

Genre: Angst / Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, insulting

A/n: Well, hi.

So, this one has taken on some dimensions again, they weren’t planned, about 3k. Now, it is a bit more. Actually, the whole thing should not be quite so extensive, but well, once Jake starts, he doesn’t stop.

Thank you alls so much for the support in part one, I was really surprised. And thank you very much for wishing Part Two, which means a lot to me. ❤️

So, that’s a bit more related to alternative two of part one. Actually, it was supposed to get a little darker and generally the plan was different. The ending should be different and longer, but I think it’s good as it is now.

I hope you’ll like it.

And apologize for the mistakes.

(I think I wanted to say more but I forgot xD)

Anyway, have fun, stay healthy and take care of yourselves.❤️🌹🎭

There lies the hacker now, in the early morning hours, not even the sun has risen already, wide awake, full of emotions and agitated.

In his arms, you, fortunately asleep, deep and firm.

He also wanted to sleep, he has been trying for two hours but it doesn’t work. And how should he? After the past hours it is practically impossible to sleep.

The only reason you sleep is probably the effort you had to experience. Your body was finished after the shower. You were still shivering from the adrenaline, agitated and yet so terribly tired.

So now he lies here, doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to react, how to feel. TThe pure fear that lay in your voice when the call came suddenly, gives him goose bumps again, crawling all over his body.

This fearful tone of your voice won’t let it go.

What if he hadn’t been there in time? If he hadn’t been able to save you in time? If it took him a minute longer? If something had gone wrong?

He can’t even imagine what could have happened. At this horrible imagination in his head, he pinches his eyes tightly. Try to remove the images from his head that make him sick, he would like to vomit, so horrible is the thought of it. He shakes his head, tries to drive away the thoughts, but they don’t go away. His fingernails drill deep and firmly into the skin of his palms. It hurts, it’s uncomfortable, and if he still squeezes even harder, he’ll start bleeding, but he has no control over it. In his mind, the worst scenarios circle and he can only imagine, if even he feel so bad now, how bad did you feel in this moment?

He controls himself to be quiet, exhorts himself to loosen up again so as not to wake you. You need sleep. You deserve sleep. But these pictures, these fucking pictures, they're not going away. The imagination that someone would touch you- NO!

The hacker opens his eyes wide! He must not go in this direction, he must look straight out and make sure that you get your revenge, as you deserve! That he protects your honor, that he makes everyone see what happens when someone wants to do something bad to you.

He’s Jake, one of the best hackers in the world and now he’s gonna show what he’s capable of.

-

His breath is so heavy, so full of anger and hatred, so full of negativity that he would like to hit the next wall.

He bites his lower lip when he thinks about leaving you here alone. He needs to be in his study. He just has to find out who this guy was. That bastard.

Just really reluctant, actually he would just like to lie here with you, but he has to, he's winds cautiously out of your embrace.

He can’t lie here and wait, he has to do something. Now!

Even if he feels weird with it, he opens the laptop that is in his bedroom and directs it so that he can see your sleeping shape. He will simply connect the laptop to his PC to keep an eye on you. As soon as you get restless or wake up, he could be with you right away.

That’s how he’s gonna do it.

He gives you a final and gentle kiss on the forehead before going to his study.

-

After he has prepared his work setup and everything is ready, he wastes no time and immediately gets to work. Quickly scan the data of the man who was tracking you.

Everything that had ever happened in his life, the hacker would find out now. And of course, the most important information is quickly obtained.

Name

Age

Date of birth

Address

All bank accounts

His social security number

Where he grew up

As what he works

What friends he has

With whom he is friends

His pets

On what elementary school he went

On what high school he went

Who his parents are

The siblings

All information about each individual family member

And at the very end, the police certificate of conduct with all the information who are important for him. And that’s more interesting than he thought. The further he read the information from the police, the more his emotional state changes.

It starts with drug abuse

Bodily injury in two cases

Insult

Gun possession

Domestic violence against his ex girlfriend

....

The list is shockingly long: a two-year stay in a prison, probation and community service.

The further Jake read, the more worried he is that he couldn’t have been there in time with bad luck. But he’s all the happier he could save you.

At the same time, he’s thinking about telling you who the guy is, because he doesn’t know how you’re gonna take this information. But he would worry more about that later.

As he glances at the laptop’s camera, a smile creeps up on his lips. Meanwhile, you are lying on his side of the bed, your arms are tightly wrapped around his pillow and your head is pressing into the soft fabric, as if you were looking for his proximity in your sleep.

How perfect can a person be? How perfect is this beautiful being lying in his bed? Immediately the tingling starts in his stomach, as always when it comes to you.

He’s so terribly in love. So insanely strong.

Again, he begins to regret that it has not progressed further between you. Everyone knows that he loves you, and everyone knows that you love him. And yet you both have not yet managed to finally do what you both so much want. But the fear of destroying everything is so great. You two spend so much time with each other, become best friends, best friends who feel more for each other than just friendship.

In addition, his fear of putting you in danger is added. He is not a simple man, no one who prefers a regular daily life, no fixed working hours, no fixed income, even if he earns more than most others. As a hacker you have one or the other possibility. Nevertheless, he is still wanted by the government. Not as strong, and the danger is not as great as it was a few months ago, but it still exists.

But last night’s incident somehow inspired him to think, and he feels different when he thinks about it. He wants you, he wants you with everything you have, he wants you by his side. He always wants to protect you, he always wants to be there for you, he wants you by his side, he doesn’t want to live alone in this apartment anymore. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore, he needs you, he has always done it and he will always need you, he wants you so bad!

This incident clearly shows that life is always uncertain, and this incident shows him that he is lying to himself. He wants to be able to say that you’re a couple, he wants it so badly. So fucking urgent.

"I want to share my life with you," the hacker murmurs, driving through his face with his hands. Now his thoughts have drifted in another direction again, but you’re just sitting in every corner of his mind. You are the biggest and most important part of his life and that since the first time you met.

But now something else is more important. After that, he can think of you a lot, but now revenge counts.

He breathes in and out again before turning back to the screens and begins to gather more information.

-

About half an hour later, he releases himself from his cramped posture. The further he delves into the life of the man, the more aggressive he becomes.

This guy’s not a petty criminal, the way he thought he was, this guy’s got dirt on him through and through.

And the further he reads, the more he wonders why this guy is on the loose and not in a maximum security prison.

From organized crime to gang activities. Drug dealing, counterfeit money, prositution. All the shit every gang is involved in.

Disgusting chat histories, images, threats of other people, extort protection money. And the hacker just assumed the guy is just a disgusting bastard. But he thought wrong.

And yet, it’s actually only good for him, really very good, because Jake has now a lot more options than he thought.

He thinks hard about how to proceed. How best to tackle this whole situation, so that he has the best chance of success.

But what’s also positive for is the fact that this guy really doesn’t deserve anything other than what the hacker’s up to.

To destroy a person’s whole life is actually nothing that he would do; he simply cannot reconcile this with his morality. Even if it’s about you, but now he’s not just doing it for you, he’s doing it for everyone. This is a favor he does to the whole society.

Oh and he’ll do it with pleasure.

-

Meanwhile, he has gained access to the man’s laptop and can take a closer look at the living room. He also got lucky and found some camera shots taken by a bakery that is on the street where you were being followed.

Unfortunately, it has no sound and yet it is more than enough. He saved the recording and censored you on it.You don’t have to be broadcast in video format all over the world.

But it is still clear that he's persecutes you. It is more bad than quite recognizable on the videos that he is angry and that he shouts something, but when you see the video, everything is explained by itself.

That was number one on his list.

Let's continue with point two.

And point two is a summary of all the information he could find that could even remotely involve anything criminal.

And this is a really long list, he can prove everything, he can prove every single point. With all the information that will help.

Videos, chats, pictures, recording of conversations. Locations, meeting places, other names.

Because his plan has changed, and it’s not just about destroying this man anymore, it’s about destroying all the criminals around him.

-

Point two, finish! Now, point three, and that’s the confrontation with the man.

The most important information is in front of him as he puts on his headset and leans back relaxed.

The recording program runs as soon as he turns on his microphone. The recording is automatically converted into the computer voice and then sent as a video along with his sign, the eye, as a gift to his new friend.

He puts one leg over the other and folds his arms in front of his chest.

"Hello Ted, my identity doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’ve made some serious mistakes, and about this, I will teach you now."

-

And send.

Soon the man’s cell phone will start ringing, and it will only stop when he gets up and then listens to the hacker’s nice message on his laptop, which will breaking his little world in which he lives.

But it’s his own fault.

A look at the camera of his own laptop tells him that you still sleep quietly and calmly, which makes him happy. -

The ringing of the mobile phone and the terrible ringtone of the persecutor annoy the hacker so slowly. He didn’t think it would be that long before Ted wake up. But when it finally happens and a door is opened, a slightly arrogant grin appears on Jake’s face.

It’s Showtime.

"What the hell?" grumbles the sleepy guy as Jake makes the video file pop up.

The eye flickers on the screen and Ted skeptically approaches it.

He pulls back his desk chair and sits down.

"What the fuck?" he hisses angrily and pushes a button on the keyboard.

"Hello Ted, my identity doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’ve made some serious mistakes, and about this, I will teach you now."

Amused and eager, Jake follows the course of the situation.

Ted becomes more and more hectic, the more facts the computer voice enumerates. He probably didn’t expect this to ever come to light. He wildly presses all the buttons he can find, tries to turn off the laptop but he has absolutely no control over it.

At the very end, after all the crimes have been enumerated, the computer voice informs him that he has video footage of his nocturnal activity.

"That was a big mistake, Ted, and it’s time you understood that you understand how unimportant you are in this world"

-

After Jake has decided to leave Ted alone, with the knowing that he can now say goodbye to his life as he knows it, he move on to point 4.

And point 4 involves sending all the information to everyone who can do something with it. But don't worry, that’s not the finale.

The finale will be something special.

Everything collected is sent first to the police in Duskwood. He doesn’t think much will happen, but the police will certainly not be the agency that will take care of Ted, in the end.

After the police, Jake sends the information to his place of work. He won’t be needing the job in a few hours anyway even longer.

Then his sister gets an e-mail with everything there is about her brother. Because Jake found out that poor girl always had to take care of him. Had to pick him out of the cell at night, had to pick him up of the hospital one or the other time and things like that. Among other things, good Ted broke into her apartment once, but this was not reported to the police. Jake saw in a chat that Ted promised to stop doing criminal things. This didn’t work out that way. The hacker feel sorry for the sister, she certainly doesn’t deserve it and yet this is about more than just that.

And after all the important people have received the information, he finally go to the final, which the hacker is most looking forward to before he can finally return to you.

Back to you, to his bed where you lie, this day can’t be more beautiful, can it?

Well, the morning show on TV sounds good, doesn’t it? The channel is littered with scandals and really unscrupulous means of getting attention.

No one will be angry with him if the actual broadcast is interrupted for a few minutes to do something good. And to appease his vengeance. All he has to do is fade in everything, play the video and the rest would come by itself. The spread on the Internet. The information is forwarded to other authorities like the State Police Authorities as it is about more than just the pursuit after revenge for his love. Gang crime is not liked by the state.

So then, curtain up, the final begins.

-

About half an hour later, now it is shortly before 9  in the morning, the whole took longer than he had expected, he sinks back on the soft mattress. Satisfaction spreads and seeing you sleep so peacefully also makes him tired.

Carefully he pulls the blanket over himself and then grabs again around your body to bring you back into his arms. He hides his head in your neck bend and a few moments he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He couldn’t stop himself from posting some things on Ted’s Instagram page for his personal feeling. Pictures that Ted prefers not to watch for the Internet, but Jake doesn’t care; in a few hours, Ted will never have access to the Internet again. Hopefully Ted makes friends in prison fast, or it won’t be so funny for him.

Well, don’t mess with the hacker’s love.

----------

When you open your eyes, Jake still lies peacefully asleep beside you.

His hair stands wildly off his head and he has put his arms protective around you. Immediately a feeling of home spreads within you and you smile.

His body nestles warm against yours and you wish you could always wake up like that.

Bu, if you didn’t have to use the bathroom.

Carefully peel out from under his arms without waking him.

With leaving Jake’s arms and getting out of bed, the first pictures of last night immediately come back into your head. A few moments you stare at the wall before you shake your head. You don’t want to think about it. Actually, you never want to have to think about it again, you just want to forget it, focus on everything that’s more important now. And this is you, your feeling that you don’t want to get involved in this situation, you don’t want to leave room for this man. You don’t want him to have room in your life, and you don’t want to investigate any further. Actually, you don’t want to know who this guy is. You just want to focus on how lucky you were, that everything went well, that Jake saved you, and that nothing happened to you.

Jake!

You want to focus on Jake! And most importantly, that you finally want to be with him! He was there to save you right away. He was ready to help you immediately, he protected you, especially the way he protected you. The way he sounded, as if he was doing everything he could to save you. And this irrational fear that this could not work with you two, it’s bullshit! You want him with everything he has and you don’t want to be just friends anymore. You long for his lips, for his kisses that don’t just go on your forehead or cheek. You want to finally be able to say that you are a couple, you want him so badly, so damn badly.

Like a miracle cure, the thought of Jake really distracts you. You didn’t even know where your thoughts went, it just happened. But it always is, it’s just in every corner of your mind.

-

After you left the bathroom, you turned on the coffee machine. You’d stay awake and pass the time until Jake wakes up and you could have some breakfast. While the coffee is cooking, you drop down on the small sofa in the hacker’s living room and decide to pass the time with a little bit TV.

You switch through the channels looking for something interesting but don’t really find something you like.

When the Coffee machine gives you confirmation that the hot drink is ready, you quickly jump up and leave the remote control there.

While you prepare your coffee, you listen to an advertisement about an electronic toothbrush and then one about the latest vacuum cleaner.

With your cup you go back and then put a thin blanket from the sofa around your legs.

The News Show that you sometimes see starts broadcasting.

And you really expected a lot, really a lot, but you never expected what was actually going on.

While the news announcer reports on a gang crime, a picture is displayed. There’s a man to be seen, and you’re a thousand percent sure that’s the man who chased you yesterday.

Silently and with your mouth open you are listening as a whole gang was arrested, warehouses and factories were stormed. Drugs and counterfeit money were confiscated and in the end, how a hacker uncovered all this.

During the narration about hacking another channel and the materials shown there such as images and video, your heart begins to beat faster and faster.

And when it is shown what was published there, you put your hand infront your mouth in shock.

"Oh my-" you watch the camera shots where you can clearly see the street, which is only a few streets away from your apartment.

And then you see a censored shadow running, a few moments later a man.

You and the man who was now identified as Ted.

Jake.

That was Jake, you know it!

You don’t know how to react. While the pictures and videos scare you, since this man met you yesterday, you feel moved to tears on the other side. When the hell did he do that?

Did he do it because of you?

Where does he get so much information? Sure, he’s a hacker but THAT?

When the news anchor finally ends her post with the words "This man will probably never see the light of day again" and "The whole Internet speaks about this man and the victim who was persecuted by him. When you see this, we wish you all well!"

You have the feeling that you are breathing again for the first time. Like you’ve been holding your breath all this time without noticing.

You stutter at things, try to explain, sort out and understand your feelings. But somehow, just like last night, it’s too unreal.

"You shouldn’t know that in this way"

Startled you turn around as Jake’s sleepy voice appears behind you.

He's leaning in the door frame and yawns once.

With an open mouth you stare at him, "Did you-?" but you break off immediately because you have no idea what to say.

"Is everything okay? Shouldn’t I have do that? I wanted to tell you myself but now it’s too late. I wanted to teach you gently," explains the hacker, and his gaze slowly turns into a worried one.

"Did you- I mean- you were -" you stutter, can’t bring out a normal sentence. Point you to the TV, to you and back to Jake.

"I’m sorry, MC, I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything," he explains straight away." It was just, I don’t know, I was so mad! I still am! This disgusting bastard was following you, he-"quickly breaks off. His hands are clenched into fists, his eyebrows pulled together and his breath accelerated. However, he doesn’t want to remind you unnecessarily, even if that didn’t work out so well through the news. He really has to hold back from screaming completely and somehow making sure that Ted gets more than what he already has.

"No Jake, I-I" you just can’t find the right words and before you know it, you threw yourself awkwardly over the sofa, rolled over it and stood two steps later directly in front of Jake. Without control, you reach into his neck with one hand and pull his head down towards you. Not quite gently your lips hit on his.

And just as quickly as the kiss came about, you finish it as quickly.

"Oh, um, I... so.. I-" you laugh nervously, still holding his head. "Um, sorry?"

Jake also laughs nervously.

"I shouldn’t have done that," a little embarrassed, you let go of his neck and kick a few steps away from him.

"No, no, everything was fine, I thought it was great, so I mean-" a slight redness adorns Jake’s cheeks.

"Sorry" you mumble with a much too high voice and try yourself on a grin that probably looks like you’re in pain. Jake makes an waving off hand move, then it’s quiet between you for a moment. You chew on the inside of your cheek and let your foot slide across the floor in a semicircle, "Did you..- Did you say you thought it was great?" You ask as unimpressed as possible, as if it were a question about the weather.

Jake’s eyes grow big, "Did you find it bad?"

"No, no, of course not!" you assure him quickly." It was great, I would do it again and again."

You sigh.

Smiling, you put one hand to your forehead and look back at the hacker. Jake smiles too, and then you start laughing out loud. Until you have to hold your stomach and the first tears run out of your eyes.

"We’re so ridiculous," you chuckle, shaking your head over you two.

"Do you think?" Jake asks, grinning, "I find us great together"

"Me too" you agree and look back at him.

"Jake I-"

"MC I-"

At the same time you start to speak and then both of you are immediately silent to let the other go first.

"Do you first" you offer and he returns it to you.

"No, I’m fine, say what you wanted to say," you confirm.

"I can wait, you start"

You’re twisting her eyes again.

However, Jake understands this wrong and at the same time the magic words leave your lips "I love you"

Masterlist

-

And thank you @a-d-alison your submission gave me a lot of motivation🤭❤️

-

[astaroth1357]

Lucifer!! Who Shrank Me?!?

IT’S DONE!!! Finally! Man this was like pulling teeth! And guys, I’m almost out of titles (which means the series is drawing to a close). I think I have ONE more left in me, but it’ll be a doozy so don’t expect it too soon.

This is part of a multi-part series, (here’s the Masterlist) placed after “Lucifer?? Who Shrank You??”

(Okay.. How do I shrink the Lord of Hell, his butler, two angels, and an all-powerful sorcerer in one fell swoop…? uhhhh… Oh! Okay! Here we go!!)

Intro: 

It was all going according to plan. Satan finally got a handle on that size-changing book from before and he was ready to get Lucifer with it right in front of Diavolo. He more than anyone else was pissed that the eldest demon managed to stay hidden from his Lord during the shrinking fiasco that struck the brothers last time, but now there’d be no escape for him! He left the book at the bottom of a stack at Diavolo’s seat right before a big meeting between the demons and the exchange students... Knowing Lucifer, he’d pick up the stack to move it out of the way then BOOM- tiny!Lucifer right in front of Diavolo! It was perfect!...

... Okay, maybe there were some unforeseen holes in the plan. Like maybe the Demon Lord came in talking to one of the exchange students or his butler instead of Lucifer like he expected… And someone other than Lucifer decided to pick up the stack and now they’re three inches tall… Yikes… 😬

Who was it?

Diavolo

Look, he may be royalty but it's not like he’s frail or anything! He saw the books on his table and just picked them up in order to move them out of the way. The next thing you know, the all powerful ruler of the Devildom is the size of an index finger…

Nearly gave Barbatos a heart attack when the Young Lord suddenly disappeared from sight. If you think that Lucifer would be pissed, try Barbs on for size... Satan will be paying for this little prank ten-fold.

Diavolo is in oddly good spirits about it though. Like, between Lucifer and Barbs it’s not like he’s going to be in any danger so why not enjoy it?? He even got to order Lucifer to let him sit on his head during the meeting! (to the eldest’s chagrin…) 

And just like that, Lucifer became even more of a babysitter than he already was.... 🙄

Tiny!Diavolo still somehow manages to carry himself pretty well despite the new size, though it might be helped by the fact that Lucifer glares daggers at literally anyone who even smiles at him while he’s like this…

The Little D’s were thrown for a loop when the Lord came back even smaller than they were! He and the whole lot of them pretty much form a tiny gang of troublemakers and start messing around the Castle when Barbs is distracted…

Lucifer came by one night to find tiny!Diavolo Tarzan swinging from one of the chandeliers… He later had to pull out an extra large bottle of Demonus to get through that one. Tiny!Diavolo is not good for Luci’s health...

Barbatos

What sort of butler would he be if he didn’t move those books for his young Lord? It wasn’t his fault that Satan hadn't thought things through!

Speaking of Satan, he’s not exactly pleased with his new size (how in the world is he supposed to get anything done like this??) so he and Lucifer agree it’s within the young Lord’s best interest to have a replacement butler… (sorry Satan… 😥)

And he’s with the hot-headed blondie every step of the way. Literally sitting on his shoulder and commanding him to do this and that on threat of… honestly who knows what because Satan refuses to repeat it… 😰

To everyone who’s not named Satan, though, Barbatos is still very much Barbatos. He may be relying a little more on the Little D’s and his new slave Satan to get things done but the Castle still looks as good as ever.

Having tea with tiny!Barbatos is both oddly peaceful and really unnerving... He still orders Satan around to do all the pouring and serving with the presence of a drill sergeant, but his tiny-self is surprisingly relaxed when speaking to guests. It's probably because he can’t do very much personally… It’s like he’s actually getting a break, forced or not. 🤷‍♀️

His only big irritation is that he can’t cook while he’s this size and, let’s face it, Satan is no Barbatos in the kitchen. He may be no slouch, but it’s like comparing a state champion to an Olympic gold medalist…

Any time Satan has to prepare meals for Diavolo, it’s like he has a mini-Gordon Ramsey shouting in his ear and it’s VERY stressful…! There's just no mercy for the poor guy… 😞

Simeon

He was just trying to be polite and move those books for Diavolo while they were chatting… Why in the world is he so small now??

Luke turned into a blubbering mess upon seeing him because of course, of course, OF COURSE demons would be behind doing such a terrible thing to his brother/father/mentor/guardian man!! How dare they!!! 😡

Simeon… is kind of chill though. Sure he’s shocked and not very happy about it but there’s always a bright side to every bad situation!

He gets to be carried by Luke or the MC around RAD now. It’s just like what he used to do for tiny!MC but in reverse which is certainly refreshing. And Luke is just too adorable when he tries to “protect” his fellow angel from demons, cats, and everything in between. It’s very sweet. 🤭

Since one of Lucifer’s brothers shrunk him, he was able to subtly convince Diavolo to leave the angel’s protection outside of school up to Lucifer himself (which means he can’t keep ignoring him anymore!)

It took some time for him to wear the demon down, but truth be told, seeing tiny!Simeon and Lucifer palling around is sort of adorable… Any time Lucifer thinks they’re alone it’s almost like there was never any war to start with. They’ll just shoot the shit about old stories or embarrassing stuff Michael’s been up to... Dream come true for Simeon!

Of course, it all goes right back to normal the second that Lucifer notices that there’s someone else around. Unfortunately, the man’s damn pride won’t let him admit that he may actually miss his old friends… But a few hours of having the old Luci back is more than enough for Simeon (at least for now).

If he’s not with Lucifer, then he’s with the MC literally playing the part of their “shoulder angel.” No sinning when the angel’s watching, MC, because otherwise he’ll be very disappointed in you... 🤨

Luke

He’d never be caught dead helping a demon! Royalty or otherwise!!

...he just moved those books so Simeon or MC didn’t have to while the group was chatting… Yeah. Totally.

Which is how the Devildom was graced with an itty-bitty Luke… like, ittier-bittier that all of the other tiny!residents by at least an inch!

Between Simeon freaking out and poor Luke crying in confusion about the whole thing it was really just a mess at first… 😥

Luke doesn't like being tiny at all! He was already the shortest person there and now he feels so small and unsafe... He's terrified some demon will come by and just gobble him up! 😣

MC has to keep an extra close eye on tiny!Luke because the brothers WILL try to mess with him if they get the chance. The only exception is Beel, but even he will extort the little angel for cake if Luke gets too snippy with him...

Luke needs the most help compared to all the others (duh). Boy is like the anti-Satan, he can't problem-solve for shit… If they leave Luke on a table and he'll be completely stuck there. He’s too scared to try and do anything too daring on his own so please keep an eye on this itsy-bitsy bean… 

His little cakes are adorable though! Like, it was really hard for him to make them when he was big, but at his current size (and a little help with Simeon and MC) he can make just the cutest micro-cupcakes! (Don’t tell Beel though, or he’ll order a trillion… 😰)

Solomon

Recognized the size changing book at the bottom in an instant (it’s his book, after all) but picked the stack up anyway.

If you thought that Mammon being small was bad enough, now there’s a tiny!Solomon running around… Devil help us… 😣

Is he using his tiny size to get up to all sorts of shady shit? Probably. It’s really hard to tell because he’s damn good at staying hidden... (You think this is his first time getting shrunk? Oh please honey, he’s a veteran.)

Oooor, he may be using a “Oh, MC! Look at what the brothers have done this time! Woe is me...” ploy to get the MC’s undivided attention for a while…(Who the hell knows?)

He doesn’t NEED help really because he can magically levitate and shrink everything that he wants down to size, but no. He helped the MC through their shrinking adventures, (“Help” is, admittedly, a strong word for “taking advantage of a situation he technically caused” but you know) so it was time for them to return the favor!

The MC finds some benefits to having a pocket sorcerer though. Hanging out with little Solomon is like having a Swiss Army knife to life! The guy has a spell or a convenient connection to tackle right about anything that comes their way!

These “favors” don’t come free though… He fully expects repayment each time and he’s not Mammon, Grimm ain’t going to cut it. His requests are a lot more… uh…

Well, the MC has now learned how to recreate a number of Solomon’s signature dishes which include such enduring classics as: jellied tuna, cheesecakes made with actual nacho cheese, and something they’ve dubbed “Literal Death” which is just tamales stuffed with paste made from ground Ghost Peppers… Hope it all was worth it...

Check out my Masterlist for more!

[ficforce]

Running Scared Part 2

Y/N sat on the raised platform that lead out to the very small garden of her home and her fingertips tapped nervously on the edge of the small table; Konro suggested they head out there to talk. She had pulled out the zabuton for them to sit on and he made her stay out in the warm, night air whilst he made tea in her kitchen. She could hear the voices of her friends and neighbours drifting over from the streets, sounds of games being played and a few friendly arguments over who was buying the next round of drinks - she was almost certain she heard Hinata and Hikage’s giggles from the other side of her fence.

Konro set the teapot down and poured for them both, “I can’t remember the last time we had tea out here, your tree got pretty tall… it’s almost as tall as Waka.”

“Which is still not that tall,” Konro looked at her and grinned, one of their past times had been picking on Benimaru. Y/N watched him as he looked over the dimly lit space, the lanterns all around town had brightened up everything but the stars were still perfectly visible, much more so than in the Cities. She hadn’t realised he wasn’t in uniform; his hair was pulled back as usual but the yukata seemed almost new, it was simple in a dark, navy colour that matched his eyes and at the shoulder seams, she noticed silver crosses providing a little decoration. They reminded her of the tattoos that encircled his biceps.

He didn’t seem to be as heavily bandaged as usual and somehow it made him look a little softer. Not that that made any sense to her but that’s what Y/N thought, “You’re missing the festival because of me…” He couldn’t tell her he wasn’t going in an attempt to make her feel better, he was dressed up for it and she also guessed he would have spent it with the twins, “I’m okay now, Konro. I would have spent the evening out here or by the window anyway.”

“I’m not that bad a company… besides,” he fixed her with a gentle but firm stare, “You agreed to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” He had only wanted to come out tonight in hopes of seeing her, it wasn’t quite the scenario he had envisioned though.

Y/N picked up her cup as a distraction and took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, “Okay…”

x - -

“Y/N!” The woman’s head turned toward the closed hatch as she heard Benimaru’s voice - shortly followed by the distinct sound of Konro smacking the back of the younger man’s head. She laughed as Benimaru complained and opened up the hatch to see her two favourite Hikeshi, “‘bout time. I’m starving.” He took the bento she offered him and settled himself in the shade her doorstep provided.

Konro looked about ready to hit him again.

“Would you like some tea, Konro?” Her question brought the disapproving glare away from Benimaru and Konro’s expression softened for her as he nodded, he thanked her when she gave him a bento and he leaned on the counter to eat it, “I had to close earlier than usual today.” Y/N spoke a little louder as she prepared the drinks, “I sold out completely - though I made sure to save you two some food. I’m getting popular!”

The man swallowed a mouthful of rice before replying, “That’s great, Y/N. And you haven’t had any more trouble with those brats?”

“Not since you made one of them piss their pants,” she handed him a cup and Konro nudged Benimaru with his foot to get his attention, Y/N heard a muffled thanks from around whatever he was chewing on and smiled. “You didn’t have to go out of your way for me…”

He shrugged and took the cup she offered him, “Its all part of the job.”

“No, it’s not.” Benimaru’s voice piped up from the doorstep - followed by a small ‘ow’ as Konro kicked him.

“Yes. It is.” Maybe he had taken it a little further than usual but he didn’t appreciate the wannabe gang trying to extort money from Y/N’s business… or anyone else. The Hikeshi were supposed to keep the peace and stop it from becoming as lawless as the Empire seemed to think it already was. “If I didn’t scare the hell out of them they’d only come back, might makes right.” It was as simple as that; the strongest ran Asakusa. Konro was just glad that the Hikeshi were on the side of the people rather than a gang of thugs out for themselves.

Watching him eat for a moment longer, admiring his broad shoulders and the way the muscles in his arms moved when he lifted food to his mouth - a mouth she had thought about kissing…

Y/N felt her face heat up and quickly set about cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the supplies she had bought a little earlier. Konro had a way of looking intimidating whilst, at the same time, being the gentlest man she knew. His presence never failed to put butterflies in her stomach and make her giddy as a schoolgirl with her first crush.

She didn’t seem to notice Konro stealing glances at her as she kept herself busy, occasionally she would almost catch him but managed to play it off, smiling to himself as he thought it was cute that she could be so shy… He just hoped it was because she liked him too. “Y/N… you wanna go to that new bar with me tonight?”

“What?” Benimaru looked at him with an almost glare, he put his empty cup down by his side and crossed his arms, “You coulda asked me.”

Y/N returned to the counter, leaning over it just enough to see him at the side of her home, “Maybe he’ll ask when you’re twenty-one.” She tossed him one of the salted snacks he said he liked and grinned as he caught it with ease, “I know you can get hold of sake but good luck getting it in an actual bar, short stuff.”

“I’m taller than you… probably.”

The woman turned her head to look at Konro, her eyes widening as she realised their faces weren’t that far apart with them both leaning on the counter, the serious edge to her voice faltered a little, “D-don’t even think about sneaking him in.”

Konro chuckled into his tea; she could be quite motherly when it came to Benimaru. Placing the empty cup on the counter he leaned in just a little more and his hand moved to cover hers on the counter, “I was asking you.” It was fun watching her flounder at his obvious attempt at asking her on a date, he could almost feel the heat radiating off her cheeks and her shy smile only made him want to lean in the last few inches to steal a kiss.

“I… yeah, that sounds good…”

“I’ll pick you up at s-” the sound of someone screaming cut through his words and as the three of them looked in the direction it had come from a plume of black smoke rose into the sky. “Infernal…” Konro stood back up straight and then another plume appeared, followed by a third and fourth in quick succession before the alarm began to ring from the watchtower. “Y/N, go inside and don’t leave unless a Hikeshi says otherwise.”

Y/N nodded quickly and watched as the two men ran toward the centre of town. Closing the hatch and locking it tightly she stood still with her hands fisted in her apron - something wasn’t right… Surely that many people hadn’t combusted all at once?

A chill trickled down her spine as her fingers started to feel cold, letting go of her apron and shaking them out she ran to her room to grab an overnight bag in case she needed a temporary home in the guardhouse. It wouldn’t be the first time Benimaru wrecked her house.

And then she waited as it began to get unnaturally dark; the feeling of dread her only company.

It was hard to tell how quickly or slowly time was ticking by as she heard explosions from outside, often followed by screams and then there was what sounded like dozens of feet running past her house. A loud bang on her door made her drop her bag, “We’re evacuating to the river!” whoever it was yelling through her door was gone just as quick but she heard them yell the same at the next house and then the one after that. Y/N opened her door, stumbling back as heat washed over her face and the smoke assaulted her nose and mouth, through slightly watering eyes she saw that the sky was masked out by smoke, ash and flames as Asakusa burned violently. Crowds of people were running past her and she did her best to stay at the edge of it and not become affected by the mass hysteria.

This wasn’t normally how evacuations went, this wasn’t well organised and there was none of the usual bravado that Asakusa’s residents showed - they were terrified.

Red and orange flames jumped from house to house as if chasing them, and perhaps it was the panic but Y/N thought she saw the figure of a person in the flames. The thought flew from her mind as she felt someone push into her and sent her onto her hands and knees in the dirt. A knee knocked into her cheek and someone else stepped on her ankle, it was all she could do to turn herself into a ball to protect herself from being trampled. The crowd soon overtook her and Y/N bit down a pained sob as she tried to stand, hobbling forward a few steps forward before freezing solid - the turn at the end of the street, where all those people had run, had become an inferno.

Screams and yells that had been panicked morphed into ones of agony.

The woman couldn’t even draw in a breath as she watched burning people stagger and fall back into view. Some were infernalised, whilst most were burning alive; Men, women and even the children. The smell of burning hair, and flesh, and clothes ravished her senses and made her gag. Her inability to move, the fear paralysing her, made it possible for the burning crowd to stagger or crawl back towards her; it wasn’t until someone grabbed her injured ankle that she had the sense to runaway.

x - -

Konro’s hand went to the back of his neck and he couldn’t speak - or rather, he didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known what she had seen or gone through, he hadn’t even known she’d gotten hurt or trampled or burned or anything. All he had known in the first few days after the fire was that she was cooking for anyone who needed feeding and that she came to the guardhouse a few times. “I’m sorry… I shoulda checked on you.” During her description of what had happened he had reached for her hand after she had started to cry, he gave it a small squeeze as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“You were so heavily sedated you barely knew which way was up… idiot.” His sudden guilt made her want to hit him because there hadn’t been anything he could do but at the same time, it was sweet of him. “I… I heard you and Beni through the wall that night.” His head tilted a little and she continued, “I locked myself inside the house and huddled up as far away from the door as I could and I heard you telling him he was at his limit and then it got really quiet and this… this horrible feeling came over me.”

Konro grit his teeth, he remembered what came next and he hadn’t known she was in the house - he could have killed her. He had taken out the houses around him and somehow left hers standing. Maybe he did it unconsciously? It was her home and her business, it was important to her so it was also important to him. “That was just before I put Beni out of commission. I didn’t want him burning himself out and ending up…” he gestured vaguely to himself, “Like me.”

“It sounded like a hell of a fight, the whole house shook and I really thought it was going to come down on top of me. I remember getting my first panic attack and passing out after I heard what must have been your Akatsuki rip up the ground,” Y/N felt his hand move onto of hers and when she looked up he was staring at the table with his head bowed, it wasn’t hard to tell he was berating himself and Y/N took her hand from his so that she could move to sit beside him. Leaning into his arms a little she took his hand in both hers, “What’s wrong?”

She was warm against his side, the weight on him wasn’t enough to bother his damaged skin too much and even if it did he wouldn’t want her to move. It was nothing short of a miracle to him that she wanted to be this close, especially after everything he had put her through, “I knew I’d frightened you…” Konro felt his voice crack a little and cleared his throat before continuing, still unable to meet her eyes, “It just wasn’t the same between us again and I couldn’t figure out why you were so uncomfortable near me… It was only today that I realised you live opposite the mess I made and now I find out you were in my… you were in range for the shockwave to have brought your house down on top of you - I could have killed you, Y/N!”

“That’s not it at all!” Without thinking, she grabbed his face with both her hands and turned his head to look at her, silently pleading for him to listen and actually believe what she was saying, “You nearly died, Konro, you gave all you had to fight for our Town! I’m not scared of you, I’ve never been afraid of you, Konro… I just…” She needed to tell him or she really would lose him, “I can hardly leave the house anymore, I was scared you’d ask me out and I’d have to say no and then you’d never speak to me again!”

He felt her hands beginning to tremble and caught them in his, bringing them down to her lap. Y/N looked down at their hands and then back at his face where he was gazing at her the way he used to; like she was something special and adored. She had expected pity but found none.

The Lieutenant reached out to stroke her cheek with the backs of his fingers, “I wish I had asked you sooner, so that you didn’t have to keep running away. I guess I was scared too; worried you might say no.” The man pulled away from her and with a ghost of a smile on his lips he opened up the pouch tied to his belt, “We don’t have to go out to have fun, I could come here and if you want to stay at the guardhouse then I’ll walk with you the entire way. I only took tonight off because I hoped I would meet you and give you this…”

He held out a kanzashi. It was a single round petalled flower on a hairpin, he hoped it was still her favourite colour and Konro watched her expression nervously, “I’m not great at making these but it’s the best one I could manage because they’re kinda fiddly.” When she didn’t react or say anything he started to doubt himself and was tempted to put the small gift back, “It’s a dumb tradition… making a kanzashi for the girl you want to take to the festival.”

“Konro… I…” Y/N’s face felt hot and she gripped the hand he had left on her lap, “I can’t go out there, I want to take it, I want to spend time with you again.” Tears pricked her eyes again and she looked down, “I can’t go out there, Konro! I’m sorry, I’m sor-” Her whole body fell forward as she was pulled to him, Konro hugged her to his chest and stroked her back; it was so similar to when he had calmed her down earlier.

“We don’t have to go out,” he slid the kanzashi into her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “A man only goes to a festival for three things; Pretty women, sake and fireworks.” Almost as if he had timed it a whistle sounded up into the stars and burst into colour, “I have two out of three.” Feeling her turn her head so that she could watch the fireworks, Konro felt his heart flutter when her arms wrapped his middle.

Y/N sucked in her bottom lip, thinking as she watched the sky blossoming every colour imaginable, “You know, if you stay a little longer… I can find some sake.”

“I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me, Y/N.”

[holicanth]

Joy and Union

Day 2 of Shinoweek 2021 - Winter, Friends/Family

Words: 2.3k

Genre: Fluff, friendship, FRIENDSHIP!!!

Warnings: Self-hate, suicidal thoughts.

Tags: Shinohina, Hinata’s worries and fears. Kiba acts like a clown, Team 8, Team 8 is chaotic and share one braincell. 

Author’s Note: This is a onehsot. Wanted to make something light to counter the absolute shitstorm im about to make tomorrow :”v Hope you like it :D

Summary: A simple task—to tail a group of chuunin-level gangsters who had been extorting money from one of Konoha's poorer regions. The group was interested in the mining industry of the area, but have tried to take the compound with illegitimate force.

An insect user has to be able to adapt to all forms of weather, using chakra to regulate body temperature and balance at all times.

 It takes a while for Shino to master this technique, but now he uses it almost automatically.

 The reason being his persistence to use cloaks and the like in the heat of summer.

 Shino knows that there is nothing wrong with his skin. It isn't scarred, tan, or even rough. The Aburames are all born with extremely regenerartive skin, but Shino fears the disgust reflected on his comrades when they see bugs dig out a hole from inside him

 (He used to be more blatant with it, reveling in their shock. But Shino learns that this has left him more alienated than accepted)

 So in summer months he would cover up with loose robes, with enough ventilation to help his bugs move freely. Of course, Shino prefers the warm embrace of sunlight, but he finds that the winter months can be more comfortable than they seem.

 It was during a reconnaissance mission, dead winter, and Team 8 was assigned to a small village to Konoha's North. 

 A simple task—to tail a group of chuunin-level gangsters who had been extorting money from one of Konoha's poorer regions. The group was interested in the mining industry of the area, but have tried to take the compound with illegitimate force.

 Kiba and Akamaru left to chase after the gang leader, while Shino and Hinata were to guard and uphold the mine from other assailants.

 It was a quiet morning. The villagers were scared (as they should be) and have decided to hide themselves in their homes. Shino's bugs were less effective during winter, but enough to ward unsuspecting intruders.

 Meanwhile Hinata was observing all around with her Byakugan. She has been up for a few long hours. 

 Shino is not a fool. He notices the pattern that Hinata's behavior takes during missions. To do her best. To never give up. To prove that she is worthy of something.  Even if it pushes her over the brink. He’s always hated the way she thinks so poorly of herself, as if she deserved all the discomfort that comes from being a shinobi. He understands the feeling well, though.

 "You know that you can leave this to me, right?" Shino muses next to her, "Rest, Hinata. You'll overwork yourself."

 Hinata deactivates her Byakugan, lightly rubbing her eyes in an attempt to release strain

 "B-But your bugs can't move much during winter, Shino-kun. You need extra chakra to regulate their temperatures." She glances at him, worry apparent on her voice. "You’ve saved me from their attack before. I don’t think you should move much…”

 The aforementioned gang was comprised of a compilation of rouge ninja from all sorts of villages. They have a particularly bad reputation within poorer villages but are in esteemed positions in Sunagakure. They’re particularly dangerous for their rejection of manipulation of Suna politics. Not only that, they have weapon masters, innovators, and a single scientist who aid them in their operation.

 The whole gang have been on the prowl for a long while, keeping themselves low for the last five years. Three months ago they’ve begun to act more hostile. Starting from a robbery in October to in a mining heist in December. An anonymous tip signaled that the whole gang are on the move, and going on extortion operations as a collective. This information went to the Hokage’s office, who then decided that the elite of the Konoha 9 were to deal with the issue. ‘They’re probably pissed that Gaara’s kazekage now’, Tsunade mentions.

 A series of sneezes distracted Shino's thoughts back to Hinata.

 Without thinking, Shino had automatically gave Hinata his coat. Winter is harsh towards insect-users, but Shino thinks he can handle this. Of course he can, after everything Hinata has done for the mission.

 "Aren't you cold Shino-kun?" 

 They had a scuffle before, in which one of them surprised them with a Fire-style jutsu, resulting in the loss of 40% of Shino’s kikaichu. Kiba had been fast enough to dodge, but Hinata had to be shielded by Shino. Luckily, both of them were left unscathed. Leaving Hinata to her guilt and her disappointment.

 "No, I'm fine. I'll be on guard now, you've done enough, Hinata."

 Hinata has always felt lacking. Even if she excelled physically to her teammates, even when she's the de facto taijutsu master in her team. She was always too kind, they'd say. She's too forgiving. From the very beginning, Hinata has left Kiba and Shino to do the dirty work for her. Murdering a team of genins during the Chuunin exams was just the beginning of it.

 And Hinata doesn't reject this. She was truly grateful that she didn't play an active part in these deeds.

 (And all the while she weeps in regret.

She believed that Shinobi are meant to protect those precious to them.

She never thought that a Shinobi would do such immoral things.

But she never grew out of this mindset, either.)

 Years has passed, and they've all grown into more mature, well-adjusted shinobis. She thinks about how to apologize to them. How to reverse the horrible things they've done in her stead. A shinobi is, ultimately, someone who protect those who are important to them. This is what she had trained so hard for. To protect and nurture. The idea of having to harm others in the name of protection—she detests it with her whole being.

 Sometimes she thinks,

That if she dies, the souls of those her team has taken would be put at peace.

 "It will be fine, Hinata. Don't worry, I can handle this amount of cold." Shino says, as he turned his back on her, facing to step outside the cave.

 The Kikaichu were not fully recovered. Should another ambush take place, there was a high chance that Shino would be injured.

 (Something in her urges her to rebel against his words. She didn't want it to continue like this—to have Kiba and Shino go out of their way for her.

 Especially Shino.)

 In a sudden fit, her hands clamped themselves around the boy.

 She has always known that Shino was tall, but now that she's close to him did she realize how different their heights are. Hinata notices too that Shino was not as skinny as she thought he was, but she hadn't noticed rhe boy's confusion.

 "Hinata what-" 

 Her ears were red.

 "I'm sorry, Shi-Shino-kun, I..I was--"

 Panic. She had to find an excuse immediately.

 "I-I just think that you're warm Shino," she blushes, looking to the side "You're good at regulating your body temperarure so..."

 If she could turn back time Hinata wishes that she could pull herself out of this situation. How silly of her. Hinata makes sure that she was always careful in every action--something she learned from her family the hard way--but she's found herself becoming clumsier than ever. 

 A trait she inherited from Kiba she supposed, 

 But this was not time to reminisce. 

 She has yet to release her hold. She thinks that she shouldn't. Her mouth doesn't form the words that she wants, and she's left speechless with the rush of emotions that gobble her. Her heart tears with a feeling of sorrow. Was she going to be left behind? She despises the way that her sincerity gets in the way of her job.

 (Shino Aburame was not someone skittish. Had it been anyone else he'd have felt a bit odd, resistant even, but the fact that it was Hinata eases his mind.)

 He doesn't bother her clutching on to him like this. But he doesn't immediately welcome the hug either. The idea of skinship was something he choose not to familiarize with, as people were always quick to avoid his advances, anyways.

 (Shino had always been isolating himself against his peers. He strives so hard to be level-headed. He tries his best to do well in class. But none of that made him any more likable--with all the bugs and unfriendly demeanor.)

 It started with a slight tap on the back, to one arm wrapped around her, and finally Shino eases himself enough to reciprocate the hug. Their eyes met. Somewhere, somehow, a strong feeling of compassion gripped him. In an instant, he felt an innate understanding rush to his head, as if he was absorbing all of Hinata’s emotions as they hugged.

 (Silence fell still on them—the serenity of the scene filling them with an odd elation. Hinata’s mind was previously occupied with dark thoughts, but now she can think of nothing but the winter and Shino’s warmth.)

  A lucid, fuzzy feeling overtakes Hinata. Her arms hugged tighter and she smiles into Shino's chest. At first, she was afraid that he'd jump out of her grip. Afraid that, like her family, Shino would have downright rejected any affectionate gesture. 

 (And the thought terrified her to death. The idea of being separated from her teammates. Separated from her home.)

 Shino was pleasantly surprised at himself, too. How simple it was to connect with someone—how easy it had been for Hinata to break his walls. For the first time in a while, Shino feels the joy of having a genuine union with someone, and God did he crave for it so badly.

 (Try as he might, but he has always lingered nearby her. Like a moth to a flame.

 It felt so natural for Shino, yet his own insecurities had lead him to stubbornly reject all attempts of friendship)

 They stayed like that for a minute. And that minute soon grew into half an hour. And just like that, Akamaru comes barking while dragging a group of chuunins tied by rope.

 Both of them had known that the gang was strong, feared even. What they didn’t expect was Kiba to be so fast in tracking them down, defeating them single-handedly, and bringing them back to the village. He was always feisty and feral from the beginning, but Kiba really changes when someone hurts his teammates.

 "Gee, look who's getting nice and cozy while I do all the work for us. I am so getting a day off after this..." Kiba mused, hauling the unconscious criminals to be taken by Akamaru to Kurenai.

 "Kiba-kun! I'm... um... It's not like that..."

 "Hinata thinks that I am a heater." Shino says, deadpan. "You can come near if you're cold, too."

 Kiba processes Shino's words as his brain buffers. Shino? Allowing physical contact? It must be raining cats and dogs outside. Kiba was in disbelief but there was also a sense of pride in knowing that his teammate's ice cold facade had began to thaw.

 Kiba had always been wary of Shino (In a good sense). He made sure not to overstep his boundaries after learning from several prank attempts that you can never escape Shino’s bugs, especially when he decides to use centipedes. Regardless, Kiba acknowledges his existence and understands that some people are a little bit more difficult to get by,

 "Hmph. You think I'd need some warming up after all that chasing?" He pouts, looking to the side. 

 "Because you're fucking right!!" He yells as he tackles both of them to the snow, a cheeky grin lit on his face. Kiba’s brashness made both Hinata and Shino tumble into the snow. Now they’re all tired and not warm. Damn Kiba. His big idiot energy did not register the fact that snow is, indeed, cold. 

 "Kiba you stupid--now you've got us all cold!" Shino's remark gained light laughter from his teammates. 

 "That's right,” Kiba replies with a hearty laughter. Because we're going to the hot springs after this mission."

 "Hot springs?" Hinata asked, turning to face Kiba "Where do we get the money for that? All the hot springs in the area are luxurious ones..."

 Konoha’s northern side was known for it’s winter hot springs. A luxurious view of the mountains as you aid your body in the springs. The nearest one was renowned and popular among ninjas, claiming that the water had rejuvenating properties and could make one younger.

 "That. Is something I can deal with." Kiba replies, in his leader-esque voice. 

 "And how would that be?" Shino is suspicious, but he seems to already know what Kiba is up to.

 "You see...These criminals we're after are pretty bad, yeah? Extortion and all that. So when I wrang them up, I happen to find pouches of coins nearby."

There is a lot to be questioned from the word “happen to find”.

 "Their pouches are awfully thick, stealing more profit than the ones they took from this village from God knows where. This is clearly our jackpot."

 "Kiba-kun... I don't think that's allowed..."

 "It is," He replies, sitting up, "We can return most of the money back, take a small fraction of it as added bonus. Don’t underestimate the Inuzuka’s Puppy Eyes Jutsu! Now, if we leave before they wake up, it’ll be in the bag!" 

 The three of them looked at each other. Nodded. And off they went, finishing affairs with the village chief and storming out of the village. This wasn't the first time Team 8 commited petty crimes, but getting away with it is part of a shinobi's skillset. Or so Kiba thinks.

 Shino never thought winter could make him feel so giddy. He should have been freezing to death, especially when Hinata was borrowing his longcoat. But the andrenaline from Kiba's mischief was infectious, and he was unexpectedly more riled up than usual. Hinata too, was under the adrenaline rush. 

 If the old Shino saw him now, he’d berate him for being so loose. For willingly participate in childish mischief, during a mission, nonetheless. Oh, but Shino couldn’t care less for formalities that day! He’d brush the conduct as “misdemeanor due to injury” and sleep it off.

 Shino finds that the winter months are more comfortable than they seem. Warm food, hot springs, and a good night's rest with your comrades. He wishes to meet many more winter months with his precious friends, together.

:)

[doorsclosingslowly]

Do You Remember the First Time?

A Dregs member with a grudge, a cruel ambush—but to Kaz’ luck, a boy named Jesper Fahey has just joined the gang and he happened to tag along.

3.1k | pre-Six of Crows | warning for attempted rape, violence, ableism

By the time the door closes, it’s too late. Kaz is curled belly-down on the floor just past the entrance in a room with Beertjie and his mates Kert, Frans and Sonna, and Beertjie—well, he’s a much better actor than Kaz gave him credit for. Or Kaz is still more naïve than he believed—it’s probably both—but before two seconds ago when the truncheon hit his head, he never expected Per Haskell’s old enforcer to pull this off. The man’s neither creative nor ambitious enough. He’s been with the Dregs for longer than Kaz has been alive, and he’s still occasionally pulling bouncer duty when Haskell doesn’t need a brawler to second for him: Kaz, meanwhile, in less than three short years, has worked his way up to doing the accounting for all the Dregs’ gambling halls. He’s working on building up Fifth Harbour. Kaz has plans.

If this trap isn’t Beertjie’s own idea, though—then whose? Kaz has watched him, and he doesn’t have any contacts outside the Dregs. Outside his three accomplices, really, and a couple of bar men. It could’ve come from the boss, but Haskell’s at least clever enough to know that he needs Kaz.

So what—

“Nothing to say now, you little brat, eh?”

“I’m trying to understand how even you could be stupid enough to attack Per Haskell’s favourite second.” Kaz uses the lowest rasp his teenage voice will go to. “Give me some time. It’s an enormous amount of stupidity to tally.”

When in doubt, rile up. Kaz isn’t holding any cards at all right now—he doesn’t know who ordered the hit, he’s outnumbered and outmuscled, Frans over in the corner has his foot on Kaz’ cane and his hand on a gun, the three new Dregs who accompanied them—who lulled him into a false sense of security—they’re on the other side of the locked door, plus they might be in on the attack anyway, and when Kaz blacked out from the truncheon for a second someone locked his hands behind his back in some iron contraption, not Grisha thank the Saints but unfamiliar enough that he’ll need a few seconds to unlock it.

When all their attention is on him—and by his position, his back— they’ll notice if he fumbles a lockpick from his coat, but if they get angry enough… well, angry men make mistakes.

Unfortunately, angry men with truncheons also hit him in the head again.

“Is that your only trick?” Kaz smirks through the pounding blur in his eyes, not that they can see it when he’s face-down in the dirt. Beertjie’s not worth straining his neck to look up. Still, it doesn’t hurt to keep the acting impeccable. “No wonder you never got further than bouncer.”

“Thieving little bitch. Just ‘cause you suck Per’s cock just right doesn’t make you a big man,” and Beertjie’s genial ruddy cheeks are stained crimson with hatred now. “Stick to your books, cripple.”

So that’s what this is about: jealousy.

“If you’re worse at your job than a fifteen-year-old with a bum leg, I’m sorry to say, that reflects more on you than it does—”

Another blow, this time to the back. It glances off, no real damage done, and Beertjie’s even terrible at his actual job. He’s losing his cool.

So is Kaz, unfortunately, although he has enough sense to conceal his growing unease. No matter how subtly he wriggles his hands, the shackles are ratcheted too tight to slip out, so tight he’s starting to lose circulation. It might not even suffice to dislocate a thumb. He’s trapped. New plan. So if he’s going to stay prone and tied up and unarmed and anger’s only making Beertjie hit him more, that does not rob him of all his weapons. He’s talked his way into and out of far more dangerous situations before. Threats? No, Beertjie doesn’t have any connections outside the Dregs. No spouse, no family. Extortion? He doesn’t have any secrets either, save the insecurity he just revealed. He does jobs for Haskell with his buddies, he drinks in Haskell’s bars with his buddies, he plays poker in Haskell’s bars with his buddies. He’s a profoundly boring man. Maybe that’s why Haskell has kept him for so long: boring men provide no leverage, much to Kaz’ current detriment.

The next strike is to Kaz’ bad leg. Another, same location. Then the healthy one. Not enough force to break bone, but still, it hurts enough that he has to bite his lip to stifle a moan, and worse yet is the way Beertjie’s bending over him in order to aim. The bouncer’s got enough core strength that he doesn’t need to prop himself up, doesn’t need to touch Kaz with anything but the truncheon, but—every rush of air from the body above him makes his heart jackhammer. He screws his eyes shut. It’s hard to think of a plan, now; hard to even have the presence of mind to be grateful his humiliating position is hiding even more humiliating panic. Another strike. Another close movement. He’ll lose another leg. Another—

“Everything alright? We heard scuffling.”

The screech of the door as it opens wider—the pain as it hits Kaz’ bad leg—Beertjie cursing as he hurries out of the way, and then three pairs of footsteps. The new Dregs. Kaz swings his throbbing aching good leg until he’s turned on his side—the wrong one, he still can’t see any faces—but though that would’ve been useful, he doesn’t strictly need it. He knows the new Dregs. He recruited all three of them, and that interruption was Jesper Fahey’s voice. Jesper is the newest, and the one with the most potential.

Their presence makes the whole unfortunate situation slightly more embarrassing. However, any mix-up also presents new opportunities, and Kaz just has to think…

“Hey. I’m talking to you.” Jesper, again. Insufferably confident for a teenage dropout gambling addict with debts in the thousands of kruge watching the person who recruited him a month ago get roughed up by a washed-up old guy.

So confident it even catches Beertjie on the back foot. The man opts for nonchalance. “Fine,” he says. “Just teaching a little rat some respect.”

The constant references to his height are starting to grate uncomfortably against Kaz’ skin. Sure, he’s almost fifteen and still hoping for another growth spurt, and the malnutrition of a Barrel kid probably didn’t do him any favours if he was ever meant to grow up tall, but in Beertjie’s wide mouth, the word takes on a more dangerous hue. Something predatory.

“Well, I was. Seems like he needs something a little bigger than a truncheon to teach him some respect. Something to replacethat stick in his ass.”

The implication alone is enough to leave Kaz’ reputation in tatters. If this gets out—if the young Dregs leave, and he wants them to leave now, but he can’t—none of this can leave this room, ever. Kaz can’t see the obscene leer on Beertjie’s face, but he doesn’t need much skill to imagine it. He can feel the movement of his vicious greedy eyes deep in his bones, can feel them travelling through his layers into his skin, and he’s wriggling in his fetters with more and more urgency. He’s managed to pull a tiny lockpick from his shirt cuff during the beating, and with just a little time he might be able to…

“Got any room for one more?”

It shouldn’t feel like a betrayal. There is no honour among thieves, and the Bastard of the Barrel’s only friend is his vengeance, but still. The new Dregs were supposed to be his. Jesper was supposed to be his. After all, it was Kaz who saw the potential in the Zemeni gambler in the first place. His quick, easy charm, his steel under pressure, his skill with a gun.

And Jesper is not as subtle as he probably likes to think, when his eyes keep flickering down to Kaz’ mouth—yeah, Kaz knows about the crush, even had vague notions on how to put it to use, but somehow, he’s never expected the other boy to just want to take what he’s been denied. Stupid, stupid.

Kaz led him to the Dregs. He had great plans for the boy. Had. Jesper’s going to die bloody. What a waste.

Something about his loathing must have bled through in Kaz’ posture, because Beertjie chuckles.

“Brekker makes his enemies quick, eh?”

Jesper laughs, too. It’s a grating sound, somehow: Kaz has heard him laugh often at the gambling tables, doing trick shots, making friends, and that’s what helps him pick out the new nuances. This laugh is breathy, high, almost hysterical. He sounds like it’s slowly sinking in what he’s planning to do. He sounds terrified. Good.

“They’ll remember your death in Ketterdam for decades,” Kaz vows. It’s all he can do, because the lock still won’t give in. “Centuries. It’ll be so gory and painful they’ll use it to terrify their children into submission. If you wanted your name to become immortal—well, congratulations, Jesper Fahey.”

“I’d like to shut his smart mouth,” Jesper says, his voice still wrong and shrill. “Stuff it, if you catch my drift.”

And then, Jesper’s on his knees next to Kaz, heaving him up. Kaz refuses to be of help, until one of the hands holding up his clothed upper arms moves down to the knee of his bad leg to bend it. Heavy boots move closer as if to offer help, either Beertjie or Sonna or young Peer, and that’s—it’s too much, not when Kaz still hasn’t found a way out of his handcuffs, not when he knows what’s going to… thank the Saints he’s still clothed and he won’t get torn bare this soon, won’t have to endure as much skin touch anywhere except his head and that’s bad enough, though at least it will thoroughly spoil their fun when he spews vomit all over…

He bites his lip bloody to halt his thoughts. There’s still time to escape. Maybe on his knees, picking the lock will be easier. Maybe—it’s Peer who came up pull him into position, Kaz can see the boy now, and that’s too much, too many people around him when Jesper’s bad enough, and so he gets onto his knees of his own accord. Peer stays.

Jesper’s hands fondle Kaz’ wrists for a second. Even through the gloves and the shirt cuffs and the jacket and the steel shackles, the trembling touch makes Kaz sick.

The fucking traitor rises to his feet, and then he’s standing right in front of Kaz, so close Kaz can smell leather and gunpower and sour sweat, his groin right in front of Kaz’ face. His still-clothed dick, as far as Kaz can tell, is soft. Good. At least he isn’t enjoying this as much as he expected. At least this won’t even be worth it for him. For a fraction of a second, Kaz steels himself by imagining biting his way through that soft rat bastard belly and tearing out Jesper’s liver with his teeth. The blood. The screams.

Jesper, though, has other concerns.

“I guess you’ll be a biter,” he says softly, as if to himself. Kaz can see his eyes flick over to Beertjie, though: he’s playing to an audience, though for what— “I happen to prefer my dick attached,” and he pulls out a gun. Uses it to caress Kaz’ temple with a parody of tenderness. “You know what’ll happen if I feel a tooth. You can touch your stick now, boss,” even more quietly, and—

As if Kaz was gonna get off from this. Is if he’s going to let Jesper pretend it’s consensual, as if his arms aren’t cuffed behind him, as if—Jesper’s grey eyes are staring down past Kaz’ face even though his chin’s still raised, and despite himself, Kaz follows his glance.

Next to his knee, there’s the bottom end of his cane. It must’ve rolled over, and before he can bury the child straining to hold onto any security that drowned in the harbour years ago he’s reaching for it, and—his hand moves.

The cuffs are open.

They clatter to the floor before his hands locks around the cane, and Jesper spins around and shoots Frans right in the head.

Kert and Sonna are next, before they even manage to take a step closer; and Peer stumbles when Kaz’ cane meets his foot and dies when the cane meets his neck. Another couple of bullets for Beertjie. Screams. Otto the other new recruit desperately rattling the handle of the locked door and Jesper glances at Kaz and Kaz shakes his head and then the boy’s brain paints the door.

And Beertjie’s still screaming.

“I’m out of bullets now, boss. Only brought the one gun.” Jesper looks almost shy now, standing in the blood splattered room. It’s strangely at odds with the ruthless fighter he was a second ago; the eager rapist he—pretended to be, with admirable quickness of mind and acting acumen, for a few minutes. Now, he’s only meeting Kaz’ eyes for a fraction of a second and then glances away again, as if it was him who was humiliated here. As if—

“He’s yours, boss.”

As if he’s an eager cat who fetched Kaz his revenge and is hoping it’ll please him. Because Jesper shot Beertjie in both knees, Kaz realises. Deliberately. He shot him in the knees and left him for Kaz to kill, and it’s almost—almost—enough to paint over the terror and humiliation of the past few minutes. He was right. Jesper will be useful.

So he stands on his aching bad leg and his throbbing bruised good one and ignores his trembling as he works his way up, breaking bones, from the thighs to the arms and ribs and, finally, the face. The shaking’s just adrenaline, pleasure, leaving early. He’s fine.

Jesper is proving his mettle even more by studiously ignoring the way he can barely stand, can barely limp over to the door.

The door. That’s what he almost missed. The unlocked door that was locked when Otto tried to escape, and unlocked when Jesper got in, and locked before that. Just like the shackles were locked until they weren’t.

Jesper’s going to be very, very useful indeed.

+

It's been six days since The Event, and Jesper’s in the Crow Club, losing badly at poker. This time, he knew he was going to lose even before he sat down at the table, but his head’s spinning, and there’s something about the familiar banter and shuffle and the weight of the cards in his hands, the practiced movements, that often helps him think. That might help him now not lose himself in bouncing questions and worries left over from The Event, even if it’ll lose him a hundred kruge.

The Event. That’s how Jesper has taken to referring to what happened, even in the sanctity of his own head: because despite what happened in the leadup to The Event, he’s not entirely convinced that Kaz Brekker isn’t a mindreader Grisha, and if Brekker’s gonna murder him for—for pretending to go along with raping him, oh Saints—if Kaz is gonna kill Jesper as the last witness, well, not provoking him needlessly will maybe buy Jesper time to write a last letter or two to his Da.

So he’s waiting on hot coals, and drinking, and losing at poker, and not thinking about What Happened. Or What Didn’t Happen, because whenever it comes up Jesper’s been going along with Kaz’ version of events: that creepy old guy was a traitor who’d turned all the other guys to his side too, and Kaz confronted and eliminated him, with minor assistance from Jesper himself. If underplaying his own initiative, quick planning, superb acting skills and cool under pressure—not to mention his perfect kill shots, but then Kaz did go back and set the house on fire to get rid of the corpse evidence—if letting Kaz rest on what should rightfully be Jesper’s laurels is what gets him another lease on life, so be it. He’ll have more chances to prove himself. Unless Kaz murders him.

He doesn’t regret the impulse that made him save Kaz. It was wrong, what that creep planned, regardless even of the fact Jesper’s maybe a little only here with the Dregs in the first place because Kaz asked him and even that first time, he liked Kaz. Maybe Kaz would stop planning to murder him if he explained—but on the off-chance that Kaz hasn’t realized he’s Grisha yet, and Kaz hasn’t brought it up so there’s at least a possibility… He was close to picking the shackles himself, after all. On the off-chance he doesn’t know, it would be pretty stupid to tell him—case in point, Jesper’s still fifty-fifty on whether Kaz will murder him—but the only explanation for why he went along with the rape pretence in the first place is that he needed to get close enough to those shackles. Maybe Kaz will just calm down on his own. Fifty percent non-murder are still good odds, after all. Better than Jesper winning today at poker.

More worrying—and just plain unfortunate, because even if he’s fucked his chances now Jesper really does like the guy—is that Kaz hasn’t exchanged a single word in private with him. They’ve barely been in the same room, and when Jesper clapped him on the back two days ago the guy actually jumped. If it wasn’t for the fact that this is Kaz, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel, who did torture a man to death a week ago even if that guy deserved it and Jesper did help him, so he really can’t claim any white vest there—if this wasn’t Kaz, Jesper would almost think he’s afraid of him now.

So he’s going to get murdered by his crush who’s also scared of him. And he’s just lost another two hundred kruge. Life is great.

But when he’s waving to the dealer to signal he’s up for another round—it’s Tom today, who’s always nice to Jesper and kind of pretty but he’s definitely no Kaz, so maybe later once Jesper’s nursed his sore heart… But the dealer’s not even paying attention to him. He’s staring straight behind Jesper. Not even a chance of a rebound tonight, then. Saints, Jesper’s luck just sucks.

A hand raps on the table next to him. Slim fingers, black gloves.

“Fahey, with me,” Kaz rasps from behind him, closer than he’s been in a week. “Geels wants a talk. I need someone reliable at my back.”

Or, just maybe, Jesper is the luckiest man in Ketterdam.

[spacesnaill]

Holds you at gunpoint. Every question for Jupiter. (you can skip some if you want-)

i love you, you motherfucker 🔫

1. what is your character's relationship to the traveler?

jupiter is aether’s and lumine’s big sibling, so they all get along very well. i like to think aether and lumine are way more brash and “act before you think” kind of people, while jupiter usually is the one who takes lead (both because of the big sib energy and because they are way more analytical). that being said, jupiter is aware that the twins are very much capable of surviving on their own and fighting if there is any need for that, which is why even after losing touch with them in tevyat they know that the twins will manage somehow, they just need to find them

2. is your character proud of, ashamed of, or indifferent to their feelings towards members of a certain gender?

i’d like to think that the species/society the trio comes from doesnt give a fuck about gender and sexuality so jupiter would never feel ashamed or upset about their feelings towards specific genders. i dont think they would rlly label themself but they are definitely not straight. as to having feelings towards others: they are usually straight forward in their approach

3. what is your character's relationship with themselves?

jupiter knows their purpose and objective very well, but that often clouds their true desires. i like to think that they havent really been thinking for themself up until they were stranded in tevyat and had to rely on themself. they came to realize their own opinions and perspectives that they carry with themself everywhere they go. tho, their views are rather flexible, because they are very much willing to learn if an oppoturnity arises. that being said, they dont quite know themself well just yet, they are still learning after all

4. what is their favorite region? why?

with how much of the game is available rn, liyue is definitely their favorite so far. it’s culture is incredibly rich and full of fascinating stories and legends. i personally am looking forward to the release of sumeru, but what will come out of it is yet to be seen

5. what is their relationship with Zhongli? do they have one at all?

oh they very much do. while his charm and politeness are qualities that they very much enjoy, what originally drew them closer to him was his vast knowledge over liyue’s traditions and customs. at first during their stay at liyue harbor they would wait to catch him during his afternoon and evening strolls around the city to ask him things and carefully listen to everything he has to say. id like to think that zhongli appreciated having such an active listener and even a conversation partner at some point. eventually their little friendship grew into fondness for each other and they would seek each other’s company, until jupiter straight up confessed. id like to think their relationship is fairly innocent and very much founded on mutual respect and admiration. they both value honesty and communicate with each other rather well. and even though, zhongli hesitated before agreeing to travel with them, leaving liyue behind, he doesnt regret doing it

6. who is their love interest? If they do not have one, who is their closest friend?

while zhongli is both their love interest and their dear friend, venti is their first close friend. during the events of chapter I they both bonded. venti seemed like someone containing a vast amount of knowledge that jupiter was eager to discover. it quickly became apparent to them that the bard doesnt particularly like to talk about the past in detail, but venti still would surprise them with how much he knew about art and the culture surrounding it. they are both pretty light spirited so they always enjoyed each other’s company and their bond only grew stronger during their travels.

7. what do they think of Mona?

they are curious about and intrigued by her methods. they can also very much relate to her pursuit of lost/forgotten knowledge. they like to ask her about astrology and theorize with her, asking her to teach them little things for an exchange of a hot, homemade meal

8. what do they think of The Knights of Favonius?

their opinion on the knights is mixed. they can very much see that most of the people working for them are underqualified and not cut for the job or only doing it for the renown. while the idea of a city without a ruler is appealing, in practice the knights are the ones ruling over it and jupiter was left feeling sceptical when thinking about their methods and the possible future. they dont have anything against the individual people in the organization, but they do think their approach is highly flawed

9. wine is Mondstadt's most popular drink. do they drink wine?

while they do indulge in alcohol from time to time, they dont seem to be able to get drunk or even tipsy. they’ve concluded that since their body is built differently than a person of this world’s, its very probable that they dont react to certain foods and products the same way. alcohol is like any kind of a drink for them and many people are terrified when they see them consume it in large quantities

10. what do they think of Kaeya?

they like his playful nature and think he is a highly intelligent person, who doesnt show anyone what he is truly capable of. his methods, while very  cunning, seem rather brash, which somehow reminds them of their siblings. while they are very much curious about his motives and history, they dare not to pray if it isnt welcomed. during their stay in mondstadt they would often times catch kaeya lurking in the tavern and spending time with the local gangs and bandits in order to extort information from them while drunk. in the rarer occasions where he would be alone, they would sometimes keep him company, filling the night with talks about nothing in particular

11. if they were forced to make the choice between killing their love interest/friend or killing themselves, what would they choose? why?

that very much depends on when that would happen. pre-separation with their siblings, they would very much operate on the hard logic of “whoever has more information/more important information should survive”. however after spending time in tevyat and meeting its people, jupiter learns to greatly value life and their inicial stance would change to a more selfless one. the more they get to know about the world the more they are willing to put their life on the line to preserve life in it, especially if its the life of someone they hold dear

12. what do they think of Childe? 16. is there a canon character your character hates? why?

at first they were open to the idea of being childe’s friend, however with time they started noticing that something was wrong with his overt friendliness. when he revealed his true intentions, jupiter was not surprised, but learning what he had chose to do made them absolutely despise him. staying in liyue has taught them a lot and made them care about the people living in this world. however childe seemed to have no disregard to them. they will not hesitate to fight him if their paths do cross again

13. do they carry a lot of Mora?

having a large amount of mora is basically a requirement when travelling with zhongli and venti. jupiter does take on a lot of jobs and comissions, though mora is mostly a secondary issue for them. they do find themself owning quite a lot of it at times until they overspend with their companions and are forced to rely on their survival skills in order to save up enough to get a roof over their heads

14. does your character side with Kaeya, Diluc or neither?

when it comes to the family feud: neither. jupiter doesnt like to pry into family matters and they understand both kaeya and diluc never talking about their issues with one another. while they cant imagine siblings behaving like that, due to their own experience, they dont feel like its their place to judge.

when it comes to the knights of the favonius: jupiter slightly leans more on diluc’s side, recognizing the many weaknesses of the organization as it is, however they both come from different places when critiquing it.

15. what do they think of Venti?

venti has become their best friend and they value him deeply. they worry about him sometimes, aware of the origin of his appearance and the history behind it. they like how venti seems to perceive life in a very poetic way and are fascinated by it. they get along very well and venti often fill their time during their travels by his songs, both known and not yet named

17. how did they acquire their vision?

they seem to be blessed with the same ability as their siblings when it comes to being granted powers without aquiring a vision themself

18. what is your character's weakness?

their curiosity and hunger for knowledge

19. what is their strength?

they utilize the knowledge they have gathered into things they can use to their advantage be it in battle or daily life

20. what is your character's theme song?

pure gold by half·alive

21. what weather do they love the most? why?

they love when its sunny. jupiter very much enjoys the feeling of sunlight on their skin

22. what do they think of Paimon?

jupiter would be Ecstatic to get to meet paimon. her vast knowledge in all matters would make her a valuable companion. in the current story they have no idea who she is as of now though

23. what do they think of the Fatui?

while they do not approve of the fatui’s methods, they cant help but think that something much deeper must be going on. jupiter wants to believe that the tsaritsa cant be simply evil and that perhaps she has some other, hidden motivation for her actions. having spent time with and got to know the fatui in liyue, they also know that not all of them are cartoonish bad guys

24. what do they think of the archons?

overall the concept of archons seems very new and intriguing to them. they do try to get as much information about their godhood out of venti and zhongli. they wonder whether this world really needs the archons as much as it claims to

25. what is the worst thing that could happen to your oc?

either losing their siblings or losing their memory (its a great fear of theirs)

26. what does your oc want the most?

their long term dream is to write down all the knowledge they’ve gathered so far and make it accessible and understandable to anyone willing to read it

[hongism]

not your typical flower shop story chapter three

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Flower Shop Owner!Taehyung, College!Reader, College!Taehyung, Fluff, Angst, Future Smut

Word Count: 6102

Rating: M

Warnings: language

Summary: You always goes to the cute boy next door’s flower shop across the street because hi yes he’s the cutest damn person you’ve ever seen, until one day a guy with tattoos and a severe obsession with the color black shows up in the shop asking for the ‘usual’ and you find out that your cute innocent little flower boy has a dirty little secret.

A/N: i don’t have much of a note to add soooo we may as well jump right into the story woot woot~ i hope you all enjoy the chapter! I’m so so sorry this took so long to get out! I got distracted by finding beauty, then i had no inspiration, and askdkfjdk i was a mess for a bit. It’s finally done though and I’m super excited to share it with you guys!

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"Before I explain anything, you need to be sure about this," Yoongi says, hands outstretched as though warning you against this decision. You grit your teeth and press your lips into a thin line. "If we tell you the truth, there's no going back."

"Stop making it sound so dramatic," you respond. "I don't care." I don't care. I need to know now.

"I don't think you realize the weight of the situation, Y/N. I'm being serious. Dead serious. Your life could turn to shit after this, and what we tell you could put you in danger."

"More danger than what I experienced earlier tonight?" You inquire. You fold your arms over you chest, pushing your weight onto your back foot as you glare at Yoongi. Taehyung doesn't move a muscle; he merely glances between you and Yoongi with wide eyes. "How much worse can it get?" A sigh passes through Yoongi's slightly agape lips, and you smirk at his resignation. He motions over his shoulder in the direction of the living room.

"Can we at least sit and talk about this in there?"

You nod, following both men out to the living room. Reality seems to hit in that moment, as you walk behind them with head ducked, and cold seeps through your skin and fills your whole system. How bad can it be? Not a part of the mafia, right? How dangerous are these two? And the fleeting final thought before you sink into the armchair — what am I getting myself into?

If any of this is supposed to make any sense at all, you are sure that the world is ending and things are meant to turn to shit before it all crashes down on itself. And you suppose that maybe, just maybe, you are perfectly okay with the world ending right now, but you want to be a bit selfish and ask for a bit more out of life first.

The feeling that you had while crouched under a dirty table in that diner was not something you want to experience again. The result that came about the first time you were in the diner — the painful memories you were left to live with alone because your companion then was not as lucky as you were — is not something you want to ever happen again. You don't want another person to take your place, after living with the consequences. So if you can have the ability to prevent that from ever happening again, you may as well do everything in your power to obtain that ability. Something tells you that whatever danger Yoongi is trying to warn you against is exactly what you need. So you are going to take this chance.

"I know you say you don't care, but this is a very serious situation. A matter of life or death. It sounds dramatic, but it's real." Yoongi leans forward in his spot on the couch, elbows finding a home on his knees and propping his chin up atop his clenched fists. Taehyung sits beside him, rigid and still, some sort of unnerving quiet about his presence that hits you with a sense of dread.

"I'm okay with that," you say under your breath. The words come out a bit more unsure than you would like, and the gleams of doubt in both Yoongi and Taehyung's eyes is not helping your case. You sit up a bit straighter, clearing your throat to repeat the words with more resolve. "I'm okay with whatever it is."

"Even if it may be on the wrong side of the law? Or not…the most respectable job?"

"I don't care what it is."

"If you're certain…" Yoongi trails off, still obviously hesitant about sharing the truth with you.

"If knowing whatever your deep dark secret is will make sure that I don't have to go through that kind of fear again, then I am certain."

"What happened to running away from your problems?" Yoongi laughs through his words, a slight smile finding its way onto his lips. He doesn't wait for you to offer a counter argument though and begins to explain. "Do you know what a hitman is?"

"What? Um, yea I'm pretty sure I do. It's just a person who is paid to kill a target, right?"

"Technically yes. I mention that because this is the easiest way to explain what Taehyung and I do for a living."

"You kill people," you state, thoughts leaving your mind the moment Yoongi's words sink in. All of the sudden, knowing the truth doesn't seem as appealing as you thought. But the thought of sweet little innocent flower boy Taehyung killing someone? How is that even possible?

"No — well yes but ugh, okay. Let me just explain this a bit, okay? It's not as simple as that." Yoongi drops his arms and resituates a bit on the couch. "So, Taehyung and I — we are a part of a group — you might call it a gang, but that's a bit too simple for our tastes — and our group is responsible for special kinds of jobs. We do a number of things, and yes, operating as hitmen is one of those things. Each of us has a specific role or job. We go about missions based on these jobs, so not all of us are killers."

"All of you? As in, all two of you? Or are there more?"

"There are seven of us at the moment. Our leader…he tends to be pretty exclusive with who is allowed into the group, so there aren't many of us."

"But you're not a gang? Or in some sector of the mafia?"

"You could call us a gang, but we don't like that label too much. It's — if I try to explain it, you'll think we're just some sort of cocky assholes."

You exhale slowly, breath cascading over your lips, and lean back in the armchair. A gang. Taehyung is in a gang that kills people and does other shady shit. Taehyung. None of this sounds real. Maybe I died back in the diner and this is some weird state of the afterlife that is supposed to signal something.

"So, to summarize: you and Taehyung are part of a gang, but it's not technically a gang, and you kill people, but the two of you don't do the killing? Do you realize how odd that sounds?"

"Yes, that sounds crazy. I guess instead of calling it a gang, it should be an adult criminal organization? That explains it a bit better." Yoongi shrugs, glancing over at Taehyung to see his reaction to the explanation, and Taehyung nods along with him.

"You mentioned special roles?"

"We have specific jobs. Only one person in our group is an assassin. The others all deal with other sorts of jobs."

"Like what?" You wave your hands a bit as a wave of frustration rises in your gut. The whole situation doesn't fit together in your mind.

"Well, sometimes certain people need information. We have someone who goes to business meetings, conferences, parties, those sorts of things, to extort information from others. And he gets that information through bribery or lust-driven fantasies or even just a glass of good wine. Or, if our client needs information obtained in a different manner, we have a hacker who can secure that information in a more covert manner. Break-ins, hacking, seduction, killing — you name it, someone does it."

"What about both of you? Can you tell me what your jobs are?" Yoongi hesitates, a breath of silence, and you narrow your eyes at the man. He doesn't meet your gaze, however, instead glancing over at Taehyung and exchanging an emotional stare with him. Taehyung slowly shakes his head, as though the speed of his movements will prevent you from seeing them. Yoongi pokes the tip of his tongue out between his teeth.

"I'm the guy you hire when you to infiltrate a building. Think, a spy minus the parties and the socialization." Yoongi motions towards the gun that has found its way onto the living room table again. "I rarely have to use it, but if I'm at risk of being caught, I have to do what I have to do. I have another job, but it isn't supposed to be open information. Have to keep it on the down low, just in case."

"So…" You trail off, whatever you were thinking of saying dying before it reaches the air, and stare at the handguns lying innocently on the table. Yoongi seems to sense what weighs on your mind though.

"I can't say that I've never killed anyone. Of course, a lot of shame comes with that weight, but I do what I have to. We all do. I know that if I had the opportunity to pay off my brother's education in a different way, I most definitely would do that instead. But what I have now — what we have together in this group — it's just as good as a family to me. I haven't got any shame for being a part of it, just for some of the things I have to do."

"I...it's just a bit hard to wrap my mind around it. The people you kill have families too. Don't you think they're trying to help their families in some way?"

"Part of the business, Y/N, is learning where to draw the line. Sometimes it's blurry or nonexistent, but a lot of the time, you have to figure out what your morals are and prioritize those. I don't have time to waste my energy on other people's opinions. I do what I have to do. Some things I enjoy, some things I don't. Isn't that merely a part of life?"

You frown at his words. The line between right and wrong, good and evil. A thing your parents taught you about from a young age. Your teachers, friends and family all played a part in molding your view of the world and deciding where that line was. But that all falls under the same umbrella, the umbrella that means being good and right, an umbrella that is supposed to protect you from the evil and wrong. And those thoughts that crossed your mind before you pushed the mug to the ground earlier returns.

They raise you to think that doing good and being good is all that matters. That no matter what evil you see or hear, you are supposed to be good. Help others by doing good and meaningful things. What if doing good things doesn't get you far enough?

You press your palms against the cushion under you.

"I don't know," you say, looking over in Yoongi's direction. He blinks back at you with eyes a bit wider than they were before, and you rush to clarify what you mean in the face of his confusion. "How on earth are you supposed to build your own morals when people have been telling you what you're supposed to think and say for your whole life?"

There's a familiar ring in your head as your question lingers in the air, one that hearkens memories from a time when you were younger. Yoongi's expression softens. Taehyung finally looks in your direction. You only hear your mother's voice whispering gently in your ear, almost feeling her breath against the shell of it as she recites the words she used to whisper to you before tucking you into bed at night.

"Remember, Y/N. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil."

The things she told you as a child, what's right and wrong, ways to be a good person, and the punishments that follow being a bad person. Like when you took a pack of candy from the grocery store and stuffed it under your shirt, walking out the door without a thought about it being wrong in any way. She reprimanded you so much after that incident, told you how bad it was to take things that don't belong to you, and demanded that you tell her where the idea came from.

"From my mind," you had said. Without any outside influence, you had had the urge to steal the candy because you knew that your mother wouldn't want to buy it for you and would tell you to put it back. In all of her nighttime mantras, never did she say "do no evil". See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil. Not do no evil.

"I don't understand," you whisper, more to yourself than to the men sitting to your side. "Doing evil things with good intention. Does that balance it out? Do the scales tip more in one direction than the other? But which side weighs more?"

"It doesn't have a measurement, Y/N," Yoongi responds, voice hovering above a whisper along with yours. "Trust me, I've thought about this time and time again, but I've never gotten an answer. Eventually I came to terms with the burden. Killing someone? That's on me, that's something I have to live with for the rest of my life. But when I lay down at night and think about what and who I did that for, I'm at peace with it. I know that it didn't come from a place of hatred or evil, merely self-defense and the will to keep on living for the people I care about."

"So if…what if I—I have someone, a person I want to protect and live for?"

"What are you asking me, Y/N?"

You pause, chewing on your words by gnawing on the tip of your tongue, and look away from the two men. If I had the chance — the ability — to go back and kill that robber before he hurt anyone the first time I was at the diner, would I take it? In a heartbeat. And to what extent would I go to pay off the medical bills? Find a magic cure for him? Bring him back as the person I knew?

"I-I'm asking what I have to do to be a part of this."

"Y/N, no!" Taehyung speaks up for the first time. He lunges out of his seat, standing and putting both hands up in front of your body. His expression is panicked, shoulders tensed and drawn upward so high they nearly touch his ears. "No, I can't let you be dragged into this. Not this. You are a good person. Please don't do this."

“Wow…that’s — uh, you’re a really good person. That’s amazing how you want to help people and do good things for others. I…I can’t imagine.”

You squint at the man before you. What about you, Taehyung? What do you do this evil work for? Aren't you the same as Yoongi? Wanting to help the people you care about, but needing to do that by bad methods?

"What if it's my decision? I want this. I need this. I have people I care about too, people I need to help, and I can't do that now. If I have even the slightest chance to be able to help them, why would I not take that?" Your hands tremble slightly as you tuck them into your lap.

"You don't deserve to be dragged into this life. You deserve more than this. I-I can help—I can help you financially if that's what you need. I'll give you any amount of money if you just don't d—"

"But then I'm not helping anyone. I would be simply taking your money! I'd be taking away money you could use for people who matter to you."

"It's okay! I don't mind, Y/N. I just — I don't want you to be a part of this life. It's not meant for you. You're too good and want to do something impactful and meaningful for others. This won't get you there."

"You don't know anything about me, Taehyung. You know me as the girl who comes by your flower shop every week, but that's it. You don't know what I've lost or what I've had to go through. You said it yourself at the diner: I am a person who has seen a lot of terrible and evil things, and I want the best from people even though I've been disappointed too many times to count. If this is some sort of retribution and a way for me to rectify the mistakes I've made throughout my life, then so be it. If I want this, then please let me have it." You plead with Taehyung, hands clasping together in your lap, and you look up to meet his gaze. Taehyung releases an almost inaudible whine and turns away from you.

"She's right, Taehyung," Yoongi interjects. "You can't make this decision for her. If this is what she wants, then she has every right to pursue it."

"Thank you," you mutter as you drop your hands again.

"But it's not that easy. Neither of us can just let you in, and that's not a decision that's up to the two of us. As I mentioned earlier, our leader is very particular about who is allowed in the group. We would have to go to him and discuss things with him first before you're even allowed to meet him, then he would have to meet you in person and conduct some tests to make sure you're certain about this." You shake your head a little, looking around Taehyung's body to meet Yoongi's eyes.

"I don't care what it takes. This opportunity came to me for a reason, and I would be stupid if I didn't take it."

Yoongi sighs.

"Let me go make a quick call then. I'll be right back." He stands and moves away from the couch, leaving you and Taehyung to remain in the living room with an awkward silence ready to ensue.

The front door to the apartment snaps shut and announces Yoongi's exit. Taehyung lowers himself to the couch once more, refusing to look in your direction again.

"I'm sorry about your mug," you say to break the silence.

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry for getting angry with you too. I don't understand what kind of situation you're in or why you have to do this. I shouldn't judge you for something I don't understand."

"It's okay, Y/N. I get it, I really do. All the questions you were asking…I had the exact some concerns when I first started this job. I still struggle a lot with it as well, and I've never really come to terms with the ugly parts of my job. I try to remind myself that I'm doing it with good intentions and it's for a good cause, but at the end of the day, I'm never sure whether I'm just trying to tell myself that it's okay when it isn't. Yoongi has had a lot more time to wrestle with those things, and he is much stronger than I am in terms of mentality and emotions. He seems to have it all under control and knows what he believes in, but I…I can't do that. I-I think being around you, it-it makes me think more about it. You're a good person, even if you claim that I don't know you, I can see it. In the way you treat people, what you want to do with your life, even when you claim that you need to be a part of this life in order to help. At the end of this road, when it's all said and done, I know that you will still be a good person. If you join this life, no matter what you have to do, you will always have those good intentions and a good heart. As for me…I-I, I'm not sure that I can say the same about myself."

You frown. Eyes averted, Taehyung sniffles and rubs at the base of his nose. You're certain that if he were to turn his head, you would find tears on his cheeks. Sweet, innocent Taehyung. That's how you have seen him since the first time you went to his flower shop. And yet, now, months later, you see that he doesn't think of himself in the same way. It's almost a form of self-hatred, his misconceptions driving his mind to a place of hatred for what he does and why he does it. And yet… 

"You saw the good in me, Taehyung. Even though I don't think of myself the same way, you still believe that I'm that kind of person. I've always seen you as that kind of person as well. You may not believe me, or you may not want to, but I think of you as a good person."

He looks over at you, eyes a bit bloodshot, and you see the tear tracts on the balls of his cheeks. He doesn't say anything in response to your small rant. After another few moments of quiet between the two of you, he reopens his mouth and begins to talk again.

"I-I don't hurt people. Not physically at least. I never have, and I've never used my gun. It is just something that I have to have with me at all times, just in case something does happen, but if that time comes, I'm not sure I would be able to shoot someone, even in self-defense. I don't want to. The others know that and understand it, but I've a-always felt a bit guilty about it. For making them think that if it came down to it, I wouldn't be able to protect them. I'm just a hacker. A simple and easy job where I can stay in the base and not worry about ever having to hurt someone."

"But sometimes it feels like you're hurting people nonetheless?" You ask, trying to follow Taehyung's train of thought.

"Yea…sometimes I think that. When I take funds, I think about how maybe those people could've used the money to support their family or pay for bills and education. And with information, I think that maybe someone might lose their job for not protecting the information better. Maybe they'll have to go home to their spouse and children and tell them that they don't have a job anymore. They can't support the family anymore. I worry that I'm the cause for a divorce or strife and all kinds of other bad things. And I wonder if it would be better for me to just hurt people physically instead of emotionally…"

"Why are you part of the gang if that's the case? Wouldn't it be better for you to not do that kind of work?"

"They need me," Taehyung whispers, "and I need them. Without them, I don't know where I'd be or what I'd do. I've talked about it with our leader before, and he always tells me that I don't have to do anything I don't want to. Even if I step away for a few days or don't work for a couple of weeks, I always end up coming back. They mean too much to me for me to walk away." Another question lingers on your lips but it remains there, hanging on the tip of your tongue, as Yoongi enters the apartment again. You turn your attention to the door, and Taehyung looks over his shoulder. "What did he say?" Taehyung asks. Yoongi doesn't say anything so you search his expression for some sort of answer, but he remains blank as he walks back to the couch. "Hyung?"

"He said he talked to Moon earlier and that they both decided it would be a good idea." First Chariot, now Moon? What the hell? Are they using code names or something? But Yoongi and Taehyung have been using each other's names this whole time.

"Moon? Why would his opinion matter at all in this?" Taehyung asks. He rubs at his eyes in an attempt to erase any sign of his earlier tears.

"He didn't explain why, and I didn't ask."

"So what does this mean for me?" You cut into the conversation.

"It means you get to go meet him."

"What?" You and Taehyung speak at the same time, and a small grin crawls onto Yoongi's lips. He laughs at the expressions of shock across both your faces.

"No need to be so panicked. You won't be meeting him at our base, you won't get to come near that place until he's talked with you some first and decides whether you can join. So, in the meantime, you and I will go on a little walk to meet up with him. As for you, Tae, he asked that you head to the base to report to Star. He wants to know everything that went down tonight in case that guy in the diner was part of a rival gang." More code names? What the hell…how am I supposed to keep up with all of this?

"What? Wh-why can't I come along with you two? I feel like I should be there…" Taehyung trails off. Yoongi brings a hand down on his shoulder, eyes boring holes into the side of his head.

"Do you trust me to keep her safe?"

"Of course I do."

"And do you trust me to do whatever I have to to make sure she's safe?"

"I do, hyung."

"Then go back to the base. I'll take care of things."

Taehyung does as asked and stands, but he passes you one last glance before stepping around the couch. He doesn't say anything else; instead choosing to leave the apartment with you and Yoongi behind. Once the door closes behind him, you let out a deep exhale.

"Um, so where are we supposed to meet this—uh, your leader?" You ask, and Yoongi laughs at the awkwardness residing in your tone.

"You can call him Emperor."

"Sorry, what? Uh, I think not? That sounds like a weird kink, and I'm not into that." Yoongi only laughs harder at your statement, doubling over where he sits.

"It's not a kink. Not one that I know of, at least. I just can't tell you his real name, so I'm giving you his code name instead." Yoongi gets up and grabs his handgun off the table. He tucks it into his waistband before addressing you again. "I can't tell you exactly where we're going, so I'll need you to trust that I'm not gonna take you to an alley to kill you."

"That's reassuring, thanks," you say in response, a slight scoff following your words, and you stand as well. You pat your pockets, waiting for the familiar bump of your cell phone, but it never comes. "Uh, one second, I think I left my phone in Taehyung's room." Yoongi shrugs. As soon as you step back into Taehyung's room, you spot your phone lying on the bed. Notifications litter the screen, some from your friends at university, one from your mother, and another from one of your coworkers, but you don't pay them any mind because something else garners your attention on the screen. Four new messages from Jimin, along with two missed calls from the same ID.

from y/n, 11:26 p.m. read

- i know you aren't really him, because the hospital would've told me if anything happened. so quit playing games and tell me who you really are.

from jimin, 11:32 p.m. read

- and how exactly would you know that??

from jimin, 11:34 p.m. read

- it's not like you ever visited the hospital…not really. leaving flowers in the lobby??? were you really that busy to not even have time to come to my room? see how i was doing? only ever had the time to ask the receptionist to send the flowers to my room? good fucking riddance, y/n.

from jimin, 11:35 p.m. read

- you disappeared on me. all the messages you sent about how you wished i hadn't disappeared, or left you, or gone away were bullshit. you were the one to leave me. how could you not realize that? are you that fucking full of yourself? think you're such a good and wonderful person that it would never be your fault?

from jimin, 11:57 p.m. read

- is it your turn to ignore me now??

You can't stop your hands from shaking now, fingers too unstable for you to be able to type out an answer. Even if you could answer, you have no idea what you would say in response to that. How did he know that I never visited him? Did the nurses tell him? Was he released? No…that's not possible…they would have told me. I-I don't understand what's happening. Everything is falling apart all at once.

"Is everything alright?" Yoongi's voice enters the room.

No.

"Yea, I'm fine. Sorry, got distracted for a second."

"Watch out for the glass."

"I'm fine." You join Yoongi by the door, pushing your phone into your pocket without looking at the screen again. "Let's go. I'd rather not keep your friend waiting." Yoongi snorts and leads the way out of the apartment. He snatches Taehyung's keys off the counter before he goes though, and he allows you to step into the hallway first as well, locking the door behind him once he is in the hallway as well.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

You jump at the sound of the voice, even though it's one quite familiar by now. Down the hall, Hifumi stands, stepping out of the elevator just as Yoongi locks the door. She wears the same slinky outfit you saw her leave in earlier in the night, but a coy smile resides on her lips now in addition to the outfit. She holds her painful looking stilettos in one hand, the other resting on her hip as she walks closer to where you're standing with Yoongi.

"Isn't this an interesting turn of events?"

You huff in response.

"It seems your little date went quite well, I assume? They say two's company, three's a crowd. Just more opportunities for pleasure though, am I right?" Hifumi laughs, tongue poking out between her teeth. Yoongi doesn't say anything; he merely stands at your side, glancing over Hifumi with little interest.

"Oh please, Hifumi. You really think I'm that type of girl?" You scoff.

"Hm? Oh, if you haven't tried it, I highly recommend. Quite the experience. And with your choice of company, I'm sure it would be quite the pleasure as well. Better than any of the other people you've dragged through your door." Hifumi laughs as redness creeps up your neck, and you shift from foot to foot with growing discomfort. She passes a wink your way, eyes travel over Yoongi's form, then she moves for her door. "Goodnight, Y/N. Maybe I'll see your friend around?"

"I wouldn't cou—"

"Depends," Yoongi cuts in, preventing you from finishing your denial. Hifumi releases a loud laugh, and the sound echoes through the hall. She continues to laugh until she's disappeared behind her door. "She's funny."

"Excuse me?"

"She's funny," Yoongi reiterates, leading the way to the stairwell.

"I don't think so," you mutter back. Yoongi laughs at your comment. He glances at you over his shoulder, one side of his mouth tugged upwards.

"Not a fan of threesomes?"

"Excuse me—what?" You nearly miss a step thanks to Yoongi's comment, but he just keeps laughing without a care. "Why are you asking me that now of all times?"

"Just making conversation."

"It's none of your business."

"Trying to lighten the mood as well, but you seem to be more pessimistic than I am so that's quite difficult."

Hitting the last step, you huff and attempt to shove your hands into the pockets on your pants, only to realize that you're still wearing your pajama pants.

"Wa-wait, Yoongi, I-I'm still wearing my nightclothes," you stutter, reaching out to grab hold of Yoongi's arm.

"And?"

"I—There's no way I'm going to meet the leader of a gang in my pajamas!" You argue.

"He won't care. I guarantee it."

"But I care."

"Well then, don't?" He suggests, waving his hand through the air as though to dismiss the issue. You drop the topic, either too tired or too nervous to carry on talking about it with Yoongi. The realization of how late it actually is hits when the two of you step outside. The chill in the air is typical, seeing as the season is shifting into winter and the last bits of autumn show in the brown and orange leaves that cling to the few trees outside your apartment building. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to block the cold from breezing through your t-shirt to no avail, and follow Yoongi as he leads the way to an unknown place.

This is most likely one of the dumbest decisions you've ever made: following a man you don't know well, who poses a significant threat no doubt (especially because he's carrying a gun), and going to meet the leader of a gang. If your mother could see you now, she would either be disappointed, mortified, or both. Her sweet-spoken mantra, "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil", rings in your head as you stare at Yoongi's leather-clad back, and for a moment, you feel as though you are watching your body move from above. Some sort of atemporal and out of body experience where you see yourself following Yoongi to an unknown place. Maybe, just maybe, it's a sign — something meant to warn you against this path — or you're losing your grip on reality (again). Funny how that seems to be a recurring pattern for you.

If asked to repeat the path you took with Yoongi later, you wouldn't be able to explain anything because you don't feel yourself return to your body until Yoongi has stopped in front of a grungy looking bar. He glances over at you, hand resting on the door handle, and you merely blink back, trying to recall how you got here.

"You good?"

"Yea, I'm okay," you say.

"You're still sure about this? This is the last time I'll ask."

"Yes, I'm certain." You rub your forehead as you speak. Even though you speak with confidence, you're sure that the nervousness shows in your expression, and you can't hide that well. Yoongi doesn't say anything more; instead, he pushes against the door and lets the warm air from inside cascade over the two of you. You follow him in, looking at your surroundings with wide eyes. Despite the grungy appearance of the exterior, the inside is much more put together and clean than you would have guessed, and even with the late hour, there seem to be lots of patrons littering the tables.

You stick close to Yoongi's body as he walks through the bar. The two of you reach the back, close to the bartender, and Yoongi exchanges a discreet nod with the man as you pass him. He keeps pressing forward, through another door, and now you've stepped into a significantly colder room with a single table in it. And there, sitting at that table, one chair empty across from him, is a man. Yoongi doesn't have to tell you who he is, because you know just from looking at him.

Even though he's sitting, you can tell he's tall from his long torso and legs. When he looks over at you, a chill passes through your spine, and you avert your gaze.

"Here she is," Yoongi says and motions at you with his hand.

"Thank you. You can go join Moon outside. He's at the bar counter." Yoongi slides around you and exits, leaving you to stand at the mouth of the room with the man's eyes still lingering on you. "Why don't you come sit down, Miss L/N?"

"Okay…” you mutter. Your feet drag as you approach the table, body feeling heavy under his scrutiny. Once you sit down and meet his eyes, he offers a warm smile, catching you off-guard.

"We'd best get started. I have a lot I want to discuss, which might be a surprise to you. However, I've been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time."

"Wh-what?" You stammer, blinking at the man across from you as he grins.

"Did you think it was all a coincidence?"

...

a/n: woooo! another chapter written! i hope you guys like it, and let me know what you think!! i love hearing from you guys~

edit: heathy thank you for saving my clown ass with that edit i’m big dumb 🤡

consider sending me a ko-fi!!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[verai-marcel]

The Light That You Shine (RDR2 Fanfic, John Marston x F!Reader, Chapter 3 of 6, 18+)

Tags, Warnings, & Notes in Chapter 1.  |  Chapter 2

AO3 Link is here.

Chapter 3 - Gravity

Word Count: 2130 

You were absolutely humming and dancing around your shop the next day. The date had gone brilliantly; the two of you talked about the town and how much it had changed in so little time; he hadn’t been back for a year, and you hadn’t been back for two years, only having returned a week ago. He talked about living in the big city, but was vague about where he lived. You were surprised that he’d drive all the way over here to see you.

“40 minutes ain’t that far,” he had said. To you, the 20 minutes to your aunt’s place was an eternity. But you also hated driving. Or being in cars in general. Part of the reason you picked the place you lived was because just about everything you needed was within walking distance.

He had bought you dinner last night at your favorite little burger place. You had decided that if he was going to get to know you, then you might as well be up front about your eating habits. As you happily devoured your double burger cooked with onions and mustard mixed into the patties, you had looked over to see him watching you, a grin on his face.

“What?” you had asked, your mouth stuffed with burger.

“I love a woman who enjoys her food.”

You had nearly choked. Instead, you had taken a sip of your neopolitan shake and continued to eat, ignoring the heat suffusing your cheeks.

Tonight, he said he was going to let you pick the restaurant again, since you were paying. You had argued that since you had picked when he was paying, it was only fair that he picked this time. 

But he was savvy; he told you that you’d know the area better than he did; he trusted your judgement.

So tonight was going to be the flip side of your food habits; a vegetarian place. It was a small place that specialized in veggie bowls with a grain of some kind. You wondered how he would handle it. You knew some guys were picky about this sort of thing, and while you had a fleeting thought that it might not be fair to judge someone based on their eating habits, you also knew that you wouldn’t have fun with someone who wasn’t as adventurous as you were.

When he showed up at 6PM again, just as you were wrapping up your work, he walked inside and looked around, marveling at your work. You had taken today to decorate the shop, put up signs, and make sure everything was beautiful and presentable. When you started, you weren’t sure you were going to be ready in time for your Saturday grand opening, but with John’s help the other day, you had a bit of time to spare.

“Place looks real nice,” he commented as he leaned closer to one of the display benches. You watched as he leaned in and sniffed the peony blossom, closing his eyes. It was such a contrast to how he looked. His biker boots were worn and scuffed, and a green plaid flannel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp, looking black as if he had just gotten out of the shower. He wore ripped black jeans and a black button down sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscles perfectly. 

“So, where we goin’ tonight?” he asked.

You grinned.

***

To your surprise, he didn’t complain; he only nodded and went with you, walking the three blocks to The Green Grill. You helped him order, and he didn’t try to mansplain or anything of the sort. He was just a down-to-earth, humble guy, and you could feel yourself falling for him more, even though it was only the second date.

Dinner. The second dinner.

Afterwards, like a gentleman, he walked you back to your place, holding your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. He had wrapped his flannel around your shoulders when you had shivered.

“That wasn’t too bad,” John said as the two of you reached your place. “Better than what I was expectin’.”

“And what were you expecting?”

“I dunno, goat food, I guess.”

You laughed at his answer. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t hate it,” you teased. Then you looked at him for a few moments. “You’re not just saying that to be nice, are you?”

He pulled you close. “I ain’t a nice man. But I’m always honest.” He cupped your cheek as he spoke, making sure he had eye contact with you so you knew his words were true.

Your heart beat stuttered at how close he was.

“Can I see you again?” he murmured, his raspy voice sending electric tingles down your spine.

“Of course,” you breathed. “If you want, you could come to my grand opening tomorrow morning.”

He suddenly looked a little sad. “I can’t, I have work.”

You nodded. “That’s alright. So do I,” you said, one side of your lips quirking up in a joking grin.

“Dammit, you’re so cute.”

He tipped your chin up with his forefinger and slowly leaned in. You gravitated towards him, closing your eyes as he closed his.

John’s small moan of pleasure as his lips met yours shot a zing of desire through your body. He stepped forward, pressing you up against the glass door as he kissed you more, his body covering yours, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you against him.

Then he pulled away, leaving you both breathless, pupils dilated with desire.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” he said, even though his face clearly said he wasn’t sorry.

“No, it’s fine, you.. That was nice,” you finished lamely.

He softly smiled at you before he took your hand, raised it to his mouth, and kissed the back of your knuckles. “I’ll call you when I’m free. I promise.”

You nodded, surprised by his touching gesture. He caressed your face delicately with his fingertips. “You get some rest. You got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” He kissed your forehead. “See you later, sweetheart.”

As he walked away, you realized, with the pounding of your heart, that he could have easily continued to make out with you some more and you would not have stopped him. Instead, he hadn’t even given you the option to ask for more; he had stepped away to let you rest.

You went into your shop and turned in for the night, but couldn’t stop thinking of stormy grey eyes and a wry smile.

***

“That was barely enough to cover the work it took to get those cars,” John grumbled as he stuffed his cash into his wallet. Dutch had come by, dropped off the envelopes of money for the gang, and had taken off, claiming he had more work to find for them.

Arthur shrugged, but his face showed creases of worry on his forehead. “Dutch said it’s gettin’ harder to sell these days.”

“Then maybe we should find regular jobs.”

Arthur stopped walking and turned to John, who had continued to walk to his bike.

“What?” John asked when he finally noticed that Arthur wasn’t next to him.

Deep in thought, Arthur looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “This ain’t the way we was. We used to ride around for fun, took on jobs that helped others. Now, well, now we just use our bikes because they’re good for gettin’ away from the cops.”

They were both silent. They knew that the others had part time work, or worked a series of gigs to make money besides their work with the gang. For John and Arthur, the gang was all they had. Dutch was all they had, for the longest time. They were two orphans with a charismatic man for an adopted father who was changing more and more by the day.

Perhaps the silence was to mourn the loss of the life they had. But it hung in the air like a hangman’s noose, threatening to cut off their air.

John took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. “I’m goin’ for a ride.”

Arthur just nodded. “I’m gonna make a couple of deliveries,” he said as he walked towards the Sprinter van.

John knew what those deliveries were. He didn’t have to like it, but the pay provided for them, so he said nothing. He knew Arthur felt the same.

Hopping onto his bike, John took off to let his mind wander, letting himself ride with no destination in mind.

He found himself in a familiar town, on a familiar street, near a familiar storefront.

***

It had been a few days since you had seen John. He had called you at least once a day, asking you how your day was, asking how you were feeling. You didn’t ask when he could come see you; you didn’t want to seem clingy. He hadn’t said anything about when he’d be coming back; you assumed it was work that was keeping him away, and you understood that.

He had yet to call you tonight, as you sat at your work bench, putting your tools away.

Someone knocked on your door.

You saw a couple of older men in biker jackets, holding their helmets under their arms. Coming up to the door, you hesitated to open it after seeing their stern expressions.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed for the night,” you said through the glass.

“You new around here?” the taller of the two men asked gruffly.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Technically you grew up here, but then you left two years ago. “What do you want?” you asked, ignoring his question.

“Insurance funds. To protect your shop against vandalism.”

“I already pay insurance,” you said, ignoring the fact that this was clearly an extortion attempt.

“This is different. Call it a special insurance.”

“I’m calling the cops,” you said, pulling out your phone to call 911.

“Hey now, no need for that,” the shorter man said. “If you don’t think you need it, we’ll be on our way.” He nudged the other man with his elbow and together they walked off.

You looked at the back of their jackets; in large letters, ODB written across the top, with a green skull inside of a four-leaf clover below it. The letters MC were on the right of the symbol.

A biker gang.

You quickly googled ODB MC, to find that it was the O’Driscoll Boys Motorcycle Club, and they had recently started moving north. They had members known for extortion and money laundering, but the club itself had never been shut down, since it was the members and not the actual organization that did any of the crimes, or so the news said.

Shit. You wanted no part of this.

You called the police station to report the incident. Afterwards, as you attempted to put your phone back into your pocket, you realized you were shaking.

“John…” you mumbled, knowing that you could just call him if you wanted to hear his voice. How had he become the first name you thought of?

In your head, you heard his voice saying your name.

Then you heard a knock on the glass and turned around.

“John!”

You ran to the door and unlocked it quickly, throwing it open.

He looked at you, his eyes taking in your state in a heartbeat. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You crumpled to the ground and started shaking again.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he coaxed, kneeling down and holding you in his arms. He rubbed your back soothingly. “I got you.”

***

You told him about the men, about the symbols on their jackets. John’s expression turned dark as you told him everything. 

“They won’t quit, they’ll keep comin’ back. It ain’t safe for you here all alone.”

“I called the cops, they said they’ll put some extra patrols around here for a while.”

John let out a snort. “They’ll just wait’em out, then they’ll come back.” He suddenly gripped your shoulders. “You have any problems, you call me, you hear?”

You nodded. “Okay, John. But you’re 40 minutes away, I don’t expect you to just come riding in if I call you.”

John hung his head. “I know. But I’ll try to be here as often as I can. Alright?”

The conviction on his expression was touching, but you were a practical person. Unless he moved to your town, you were mostly on your own.

“Why don’t you stay with your aunt and uncle for a while?”

The thought had crossed your mind, but you had dismissed it pretty quickly. “I don’t want to trouble them…”

He shook you slightly. “This is your life we’re talkin’ about here! Troublin’ someone is the least of your worries!”

You nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll call them.”

-------------------

Chapter 4

[cubanmalefootlover]

Bad Boy gets The Feather

-AAAAAAWW-AAAAWW-HAAHAHAHAHAHEHEEHEEHEEHEE! STOP HAHAHA! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT PLEEEZZZ! PLEEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEZZZZHH!!!...

A young man shrieks in hysterics as his bare feet are tickled without mercy by a masked man.

-PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEAAHWSZZHHH AAAAAWWH-AAAAHAAWWW- OOWWOOOOWWWAAAAA-AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! I CANT TAK’IT!! AAAI CANT TAK’ITT!! AAAH MY GADSS!! AHH MAHH GAADSS HAHAHAA…!!!

His desperate pleas fall on deaf ears while the fierce assault just continues.

-AAWH-NO-NO-NO-NO-NOO-NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!! NOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO HOHOHOHOHOHO!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEEHEHEHEHEWWHSZHH!!! NAAAHIA HIAHIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CANT TAK’IT ANYMOOOOOOHO HOHOHOHOOORRR PLEEEEEHEEHEEHEEZZZZH STOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!!!  

The young man squirms and writhes as much as he can, but the way he’s tied up gives him too little room, so there is NO WAY to escape of his ordeal. The masked man is taking very seriously his duty, he seems to never tire of sliding a big feather all over the boy’s soles, sometimes just grazing the barbs, sometimes raking the calamus all along the skin from heels to toes up and down, up and down, up and down assiduously.

-OH MY GAADS OH MY GAHAHAHAHDSS SOMEBODY HEHEHEHELP ME!!! OHHHOHO SOMEBAHAHAHAHAHADY PLEAHAHAHAZZZ HELP HEEELP NOT LIKE THAAHAHAHAHATT!!!!!! HIIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!! NOOOOHOHO HOHOHOHOHO!!!! GAADSSS MAAHAHAWGHK… MAKE IT STAAAP!!! AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! MAAHAAHAHAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAGHWK IT STOHOHOHOHOHO HOHOHOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHA AAOHOHOHOWW!!! STAP! PLEEHEHEHEEHEHEEHEEEHEHEHEEEZZZZ!!!!

The torturer would change the feather by his manicured fingernails or hairbrushes or forks or Velcro, but his victim is ticklish enough to stay miserably howling with laughter for hours. Oh yeah, the feather have that devastating effect on the supersensitive nerve-endings of his feet. The masked man wants to make his prisoner suffer. And indeed the prisoner is! His deep voice has become raucous with gusts of potent laughter echoing all through the dungeon.  

-AHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEEEEEEEEEAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! SOOHOHOHOHOMBAHAHAAAAAAHAHAADY STAP THIS PLEASE!!!  

The masked man is as cruel as a demon…

-AAAAAHAHAHAAWWWWW! NOOOO-NOOO-NONONONONONONONONONO NONOOOO NOT THE TOES NAAHAHAHAHAT THE TOESS PLEEEEZZZ…!!!! –yelled the captive every time the masked man devoted himself to scratch the stiff calamus in between his toes and prickle them all along.

-OHH PLEEEEHHHZZ LISTEN LIIHIHIHIHIHISENT TO ME MAN!! ILL DO ANYTHIIHIHINNN… ANEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEETHN YAAAAHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA WAAHAHAHHAHANNN… ANYTHIINNN   AAAANITHHNNN YAAAUHUHUHUHUHU WAAAAAAANT!!! JUST STOP THIS SHIT PLEASE!!! YOU GONNA KILL MEEEHEHEHEHEEE!!!!...

The victim just wiggles his toes to no avail; whenever he curls them, the tormentor manages to insert the calamus or the barbs in the tender gap between the digits and darts or saw there to no end. The boy is in ticklish hell and all he can do is keep crying, hollering and guffawing, face down, shaking his head, all wrapped, on that bed, just like a madman.

 Two hours prior…

After noon, a local hooligan known as Bad Boy went out his gang’s den. At first sight you could notice he’s one of the dangerous gang’s boys of the district, judging by his attire: puffy leather jacket over a white wife-beater shirt, baggy jeans and steel-toed black military boots, covering his head a black beanie, a distinctive tattoo on his neck and bully attitude. Stylish sunglasses and a cigarette dangling from the edge of his lips completed that charm very typical of naughty men. His eyes fired anger and his tattooed hands were often closed in heavy fists ready to be discharged. He must be in his early twenties, guiding by his fresh, clean-shaven face. This slob has already got out of bed. Last night he was partying like crazy with his friends, tons of alcohol, drugs, wild sex and all kind of tough excitement. They were celebrating their last felony.  

Bad Boy had been spotted by a man since a week. This man was in his thirties, nerd-looking, average built, goatee, glasses and reserved attitude. This mysterious man was following Bad Boy for some blocks in his van. Obviously he had made this many times before because he knew the delinquent’s routine and when he got off the van, he managed to disguise himself among the crowd. Bad Boy had a meeting in a deserted factory with some members of his gang, planning their next “job”.  

Within his van, the chaser reviewed a list where it’s shown the picture of a young guy and some features:

Name: Unknown

Nickname: Bad Boy

Age: 24

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 75 kg

Built: Slim/muscular

Foot size: 9 US

Address: Unknown (He lives with the moll of the moment or in his gang’s den or in the street)

Police records: starting as car robber at 13 y.o, then vandalism, assailant, gang rape, gang banging, armed robbery, grievous bodily harm, extortion, drug dialer, arms dialer and the list kept increasing.  

After the meeting, a twenty something woman joined Bad Boy in a corner. The hooligan and his moll went into a restaurant. The mysterious man sat at a distant table. They were talking quietly, looking around with suspicion. The moll visited the restroom. The nerd-looking man walked after her… She just felt a prick on her neck before falling on the floor. The man quickly lifted her and threw her in a container. Then he casually returned back to his table. Bad Boy was impatient. He threw some bills on the table and left the restaurant.

The chaser followed his target in his van for a few blocks until a half deserted street. Knowing well where the bully would go, he turned by a corner, then got out of the van and simply walked in the opposite direction of Bad Boy. When they passed each other, the man raised his hand with the speed of a sneak. Furious, the hooligan turned around and grabbed the stranger by the arm but he couldn’t beat him. He suddenly started losing all control of his muscles. He weakly grasped the shirt of his attacker with a hand while the other took his gun, but he just fell on his knees and then slowly collapsed on the sidewalk.

-Whattha fack… oh shit… what did ya do?... –he mumbled.

Bad Boy got paralyzed like an insect after the bite of a spider. He could feel all his body sensations, but was unable to move an inch. Now, powerless, vulnerable, Bad Boy was hastily picked up from the street, placed over the man’s shoulder and carried to his van.

-Who’re ye…? Why’tha fuck… ya’r doin this to… me…?

Without wasting a second, the man got his prey within his van and locked the doors.  He had put a false number plate, just in case, then tied up his prisoner’s wrists and ankles with plastic cuffs, slid down his beanie to cover his eyes, then started the engine and vanished…

Bad Boy was conscious the whole time. He couldn’t see the place where he was taken, but he kept roaring his threats. Silence was the only man’s answer.

-What’he heck… ye inject me… SLIMBALL???!! Ya… FUC…KIN COWARD… ya had t’get m’down ‘caus’ ya can’t face ME!!

-WHO THE HELL’R YO?!! –The hooligan could kill his captor if he wasn’t immobilized-. Who ‘re ya workin for, looser??!! Won’t ye say a wor’??!!! MAH PE’PLE WILL FIND YA AND KILL YA, FUCK’RR!!!!  

Ten minutes and the van arrived to a lonely place. The man picked Bad Boy up in his shoulders and carried him by flat floor and then downstairs.

-YA’RE STAPID!! MAH BOYS’ILL CA’CH YE IN’A’HOUR AN’ YA’LL BE DEAD MAN!!!

The kidnapper had come to an enclosed place, more exactly a basement converted into a dungeon, soundproof walls, with discreet vents.

-Ye must be workin fer som’one!!! TELL HIS NAME!!!

Bad Boy didn’t stop of mumble-crying not even for a single minute; the effects of the drug were lessening gradually.

-DON’T YOU HEAR ME??! SCREW YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

The space was occupied by a big mattress on a short-legged table bolted to the floor, iron railings at the top and bottom of this thing; another table armed with leather straps and medical restraints at various points, wooden beams in the ceiling with chains and shackles hanging from them, some sets of wooden stocks and a big shelf filled with a variety of tools…

Bad Boy had regained the mobility of his head and could speak aloud.

-STOP THIS SHIT AND GET ME OUT’F HERE! I WON’T DO ANYTHIN IF YOU STOP THIS SHIT MAN!!!

The chaser placed his prey on the mattress, brought some rolls of duct tape and began to wrap his victim from shoulders to the calves, so that the head and army boots stuck out. Bad Boy increased his threatening; none of his bully boy tactics got the awaited effect.  

-Get this fuckin shit out’f my eyes! I wanna see you!! DO IT, DICKHEAD!!!

The kidnapper changed his glasses for a mask on his face before slide out his prisoner’s knitted cap. Bad Boy blinked a bit while focused his eyes around and in his captor staring at him intently. When he realized his situation, firmly immobilized and helpless at the mercy of this freak inside this odd place, he began to feel scared. This wasn’t the job of a rival gang. This guy should be a psycho or something. His heart was hammering like mad; big drops of sweat began to form in his forehead.

-WHO THE HELL’RE YOU?  

-Call me Avenger –the man’s answer was heard through a device to distort his voice.  

-What??! You crazy? TAKE THIS SHIT OUT’F MY BODY AND I’LL SHOW YA!

-Get ready, today you’ll pay all your felonies for good, you piece of shit.

-Wait-wait-wait! If I-I did wrong against you or your people we-we can speak about it…

-Late to negotiations…

The Avenger walked to the foot bed and sat close his prisoner’s legs. Bad Boy noticed with worry the way this freak was devouring his combat boots with his eyes. The Avenger started to unlace them.

-Hey, you… DICKHEAD!! WHAT’RE YOU DOIN??! GET YOUR FUCKIN HANDS OFF MY SHOES!!! What the hell’s wrong with you????! HEY!! HEEYYY!!

Seeing his screams fell on deaf ears, Bad Boy began to struggle with all his might. Having recovered his physical strength, he managed to sit on the bed while kicked his wrapped legs vigorously against his attacker. The Avenger brought some straps and secured Bad Boy’s duct tape mummy to the hooks of the bed at his shoulders, waist, knees and calves, so that the captive could not move any longer, but squirms a little. Then he resumed unlacing the footwear, it took some time since these were calf-length boots with long, well-knotted laces. Finally he slipped one after the other and held them in his hands a few seconds admiring them: black shiny steel-toed combat boots, size 9. Bad Boy peered down toward the masked man with a perplexed look. A smell of sweaty feet wafted in the air. The white woolen socks he wore were damp and stained. Instinctively, Bad Boy curled his toes inside the socks.

Without delay, both socks were peeled off, exposing a pair of dirty soles that got the Avenger satisfied. Obviously Bad Boy never wasted time pampering his feet, they were rough, with lots of calluses all over the heels and the ball; long, crooked toes, his toenails weren’t trimmed, either. The kind of feet you’d expect in a man like him, which made them look utterly masculine. The habit of wearing those boots permanently kept his feet warm and reeking, the arches were wrinkly and the toes squishy.  The Avenger stuffed the humid socks inside the boots and brought a box. Bad Boy raised his head trying to see the content of that box.

-What you have in that thing, man?

The Avenger showed him a large feather. Bad boy grimaced with disbelief. That feather could only have one sense, but it was so unbelievable, ridiculous, that he sniggered as only reaction. Again he involuntarily curled his bare toes as a chill went down his spine…

-What’re you gonna do with that stupid feather, slimball??

-What do you think it happens when feathers come upon feet, smart-ass?

-You gonna tickle me? –asked Bad Boy incredulously-. That’s ridiculous!

-You think so, really?

-Sure, idiot! Anyway, I'm not ticklish!!!

-So you won’t mind if the feather takes a walk by here…

The masked man dragged the feather up and down Bad Boy’s sole: his both feet flinched briskly at the mere contact. His lanky toes fanned out a second: there were lots of sock lint and skin debris in between them.

-YOU SON OF A BITCH BROUGHT ME HERE TO TICKLE MY FEET??!!! This can’t be happen to me!!  HEY GET ME FREE YOU FUCKIN NERD AND ILL SHOW YOU HOW TO TREAT A MAN!!

Bad Boy thrashed about and fought back as much as he could; he just got tired and even more infuriated. The kidnapper stayed looking at him through the holes of his mask with satisfaction. He resumed running the feather over the left sole. It was very funny the way Bad Boy wiggled his toes trying in vain to avoid the tickling.

-HELL NO! -He tilted his head back and forth violently-. Don’t do that, man! Wait…WAIT… HOHOHOSHIIITT let’s talk… LEHETS TAHAALK!

The Avenger danced the calamus of the feather by the right toes, focusing on the underside and the tender gap between them. Then slid down the ball and gently began to stroke the stiff thing up and down.

-How does it feel, huh? Staying helpless when someone does with you what he wants?

-Hey, stop this shit and let me go! This is stupid, man! You can’t do this!

Bad Boy gritted his teeth fighting to pull his foot away but the grip of the Avenger prevented him even scrunch.

-Talk, scumbag… Tell The Avenger how this feels…

The quill slid down all along the sole to the heel and circled there. Bad Boy wanted to scream, but his macho façade prevented him. If he screamed, it’d be as singing his defeat and confirms his humiliation. The Avenger was inspired, he used three feathers, which meant three quills to rake the sole, making special intent in the arch, then the ball below the toes and then the heel, increasing the speed.

-Listen… man… untie me… we’re alone here… we can resolve this like men… Oh shit! HEY… LET’S HAVE A FISTFIGHT… A FISTFIGHT JUST LIKE MEN…!!  

The Avenger was deaf as a rock. Bad Boy could feel his strength failing shamefully. Tickling was a stuff of kids, women or faggots. Men aren’t ticklish, less tough men like him. This was so absurd, so wimpish, so girlish, but this shit was actually getting him out of himself.

After a few minutes, the hooligan cracked loudly:  

-AAAAAAAAWWW…HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAA!!!!! STAP MAN!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA YOU WIN YOU WIN FUCKIN BITCH YOU WIN JUST STOP THIS PLEASE!!!!!! AAAHHHHH…!!!! MAAAN IT TICKLES… IT TICKLES… OH STOP IT TICKLSH AAASTAAAOHOHOP PLEASE I CAN'T IT I CANT STAHAHAHA HAHAHAAND IT AAWWIHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! STOP TICKLIN MAHI HATE IT AHAHAHAHAA STOP!!! ILL KILL YOU!!! ILL KILL YOU FUUUHUHUAHAHCKKERR!!!! OOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA…!!!!!

The Avenger knew how to keep a real pig of a man laughing like a hyena and begging for mercy; and just with a harmless method like feathering his defenseless feet.

A half hour later, the Avenger gave Bad Boy a rest. The captive was out of breath, panting and quivering as if he had a fit. His face was drenched in sweat. He thought this was all, but to his dismay, the Avenger turned his mummy form around to have him lie now on his belly. His tough-boy soles looked even more attractive upside down.

-C’MON, DUDE! –screeched Bad Boy-. I'm finished!... Hey, what’s wrong with you?! I beg you, Avenger, get me out of here… I won’t do anything against you… I SWEAR! LET ME GO HOME…!!!

Bad Boy wanted to think that this crazy was done. He had to get out of this or he would die for sure. He used a humble tone:

-Ok… I’ll do whatever you want… Let’s talk, ok? Let’s talk… -He was still panting and coughing-. I underestimated you… I know I did something wrong against you or your family, right? We-we can sort this out! You just ask me something to compensate, man! Let’s talk!

The Avenger understood the tactic, but he had made his decision. Bad Boy saw a hypodermic being prepared.

-WHAT'S THAT?!! -he yelled with renewed nervousness.

-Something to help you feel better through the experience.

-NAH! YOU WANNA HURT ME BAD! This is like the paralyzin’ thin’ you put me earlier! You had had enough from me, man! You should free me now! YER GONNA KILL ME…!!!

- This will make you feel even more than before.

-I JUST WANNA FEEL YOU CUTTIN THIS SHIT’N GETTIN ME OUT’F HERE!!

After reluctantly being injected, Bad Boy was again squirming with all his might to no avail. The half hour of tickling had tired him, but above all, had infused him with the most gut panic he’d felt in his life. Within few minutes, the effects of that injection began to be evident. Bad Boy felt as if every inch of his body had gotten extremely touchy: the mere brushing against his skin made him flinch. His unprotected soles were now peculiarly sensitive that he could feel the flapping of a fly at several inches from his feet or it was turned on an air conditioner directly over his naked feet.  

The Avenger repositioned himself in his beloved place close to Bad Boy’s tootsies. His dirty lanky toes clenched violently, there wasn’t a single surface left untouched on those rough soles. In the other end, Bad Boy bobbed his head up and down hysterically.    

-OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OAAHHH MY GAAAADSS!!!! STAP IT STAP IT STAP IT FUCKERRRRR!!! OOOOHHHHHSSSHIITTT!!! OH SHIT! I CANT TAKE IT!!!!!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!! AAAAHHHHWWW!!!!! AAAAAAHHH!!!! AHAHAHA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!! FAAAAACKKK!!!! AHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAWWWWWHHHH!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

If it had been proved that his feet were very ticklish before the injection, now Bad Boy was in the verge of his sanity. His brain was being brutally bombarded with excruciating levels of ticklishness registering from the nerves of his assaulted feet. He opened wider his mouth to release steaming, frantic gales of laughter boiling from his lungs: the only relieve for such UNBEARABLE feeling.    

Completely absorbed in his job, the Avenger kept viciously raking the feather to and fro the soles, arches, balls, heels and toes of the hooligan’s feet for hours. Bad Boy’s eyes filled with tears of sheer agony while hoarsely begged for the tickling stop and be freed. Nevertheless, there was no clue of mercy for his crimes.

 The next day

The Avenger kept on tickling Bad Boy’s helpless feet for hours till the son-of-a-bitch were no longer squirming. The masked man turned around to see the face and found Bad Boy’s eyes fixed in an apoplectic trance, his mouth winced in a permanent sardonic smile, but not breathing.  

The Avenger has accomplished his task! He gave a last scratching to the felon’s soles… no response.

The Avenger picked the body up the bed and carried it to his sinister van.

-At least you leave this world with a big smile in your scumbag face…

 Three days later

The mailman knocks at a door. A twenty something woman opens and gets a package, she signs and the mailman leaves. The girl opens the package with anxiety; she sensed it has something to do with her man: a local hooligan known as Bad Boy. Inside the box there is a pair of black shiny steel-toed combat boots. Her eyes start filling with tears because she knows the owner of these boots. Inside them there are some white woolen socks, dirt-stained on the bottom and reeking. She knows that smell too.  

  The End

[blazichu]

tmnt but as humans for the au thing? or even if say they didn't have to live in the sewers bc "talking turtles strange". you can pick/interpret this however you want, haha

hm okay so if i were to narrow it down i think i would make it so they still were trained/raised by splinter but none of them were mutated. it has been. some time since i've seen tmnt so i can't quite remember if all the villains were mutants/monsters too or all the backstory details but if say the spill or mutagen had never happened then i wonder how that would change? i also would wonder how different dynamics would be if they weren't forced underground. lmk if you still need more specifics!

That’s great, Anon! Thanks for giving me a little more direction. I’m going to apologize in advance, because I got waaaay preoccupied with certain details, so it’s a lot more worldbuilding than it is putting together a definitive plot, but I’m hoping it still fits the ‘what would this entail?’ bill. Let me know if I missed the mark, though!

And standard disclaimer: even though this is an AU, it’s still heavily based on 2k3′s characters and versions of events. What can I say? It’s My Brand.

I’m not 100% sure what you meant by ‘none of them were mutated’, but I’m choosing to interpret that as something akin to Rise’s yokai situation, where non-humans are born that way. In this case, the “yokai” society and human society would be integrated, but that might be a newer development (within the past 100-300-ish years). TMNT has always used mutants, aliens and other non-humans as allegories for groups that have been discriminated against, and I feel like, even in a more tolerant setting, that would still stand. The humans and non-humans put up with each other, but aren’t on the best terms, and the humans are usually the aggressors. (I also want to make it clear that non-humans are human in all but body/looks-- some have features that provide some benefit or drawback (shells, for example), but there are no supernatural abilities inherently associated with it.)

Bear in mind that I’m writing this as someone who has only left the west coast to visit Ohio of all places, so if I make a Glaring New York Mistake, my bad. I feel like there’s no way the Hamatos live in New York County, so I’m going to tentatively say they’re based in the Bronx. Yes, I know. That was not the intention. Shenanigans can still happen in NYC, but I was breaking my own suspension of disbelief. There’s still some ninja-adjacent training, but most of it is more martial arts-focused-- both for protection in a potentially hostile world, and as a tradition. We still have the chain-of-adopted-parents-slash-teachers going, with Yoshi taking Splinter in, and Splinter raising the boys. An important butterfly-effect here is that if we’re classifying the Utrom as a subsect of non-humans, then a bunch of other stuff didn’t happen, and we could easily argue that Tang Shen would still be alive. She and Yoshi live together, and see their adoptive family somewhat regularly. In this version of events, I’m also thinking the guys know Casey from when they were kids. I could put together an AU variation of The Lesson to mesh with what we’ve already established, but this really isn’t the time.

Personality-wise, I don’t think a lot changes-- the most dramatic would probably be Leo, who, while still the eldest, doesn’t have the responsibility to lead his brothers. I mean, he still tries, but it’s less because he has to and more because of who he is as a person… and also because it drives his brothers up the wall. Splinter has the support of his own adoptive parents in this ‘verse, and I think that would take a lot of pressure of of Leo. Raph, while still frustrated with the state of the world, has learned better coping mechanisms and has more outlets to rely on; he’s easy/quick to rile up, but unless it’s something serious, he can deal with it, and he’d never go to any pipe extremes. I feel like, if anything, Donnie might inherit a bit of Raph’s temper; he’s still very much the ‘I want to help however I can’ humanitarian type, but would be fighting against all sorts of prejudices in order to do so. Still fairly self-conscious and thoroughly adorkable, though. Mikey still has his major vices, but he’s also in a situation where he can network properly, share his art and collaborate with other people, so I think that would become more of a focus for him, and he’d be a little more chill. Between Mike, Don and Raph, they know someone who can help with practically anything they need; Leo’s more reserved, and, while he can and does talk to other people, too much socializing can be a bit outside of his comfort zone.

So, in terms of plot, it feels appropriate to draw primarily from sociopolitical arcs. Thrilling, I know, but since the basis of this AU is ‘what if they lived on the surface’, I would want to focus on what all that entails. That being said, the Mouser intro is a series mainstay, and I don’t want to exclude all fantastic elements, but some things can/should probably be toned down. (I think current events have also proven that, even without the mutation danger, Outbreak would still be a perfectly viable threat.) So, maybe, under the guise of reducing the rat population, Stockman starts using the Mousers not to steal physical assets, but to collect data, which he then uses to anonymously blackmail/extort residents. This may or may not be part of a larger plan-- I wanted to draw inspiration from City at War in particular-- but I don’t have the galaxy brain to figure out what that is, right now. (Stockman’s the kind of recurring villain who, while people know he’s at fault, either can’t be definitively linked to an incident, or is just on the right side of the law. Every time he crops back up, people trust him less and less. Eventually, desperation drives him to work for/with Saki, and then Bishop, so he really should have quit while he was ahead, it’s just not a pun this time around.)

Just because I haven’t mentioned her yet, April’s definitely a part of this, but I’m not entirely sure how/where she fits in. I’m thinking that, instead of threatening her with the Mousers when she discovers what he’s been doing, Stockman might use some of his new connections to try to take her out as she goes home. Cue the classic rescue sequence. It’s kind of an abrupt change of topic, but I also want to keep the ‘Saki’s an Utrom’ reveal, though the impact is somewhat different here; I’m just not sure how to accomplish this without turning him into Sophia the Robot. There are so many things I haven’t even mentioned, and I feel bad that I haven’t really established a proper plot, but this is getting wildly out of hand, and I need to rein myself in.

As a parting point, in addition to City at War, I’d definitely want to incorporate parts of/themes from Still Nobody (wrt the Turks/gang recruitment), Garbageman (the homeless), and, of course, utilize the Purple Dragons.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirteen: Bright Lights ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another night...another bout of insomnia.

Giving up on keeping her eyes closed, Hinata instead lets them open to stare up at the ceiling. The last time this happened, she found a man half-dead in an alleyway, and subsequently almost got herself killed the other day when his rival gang snatched her up.

...it’s a long story.

She’s now on her third day off work. Her doctor contact managed to get her a full week with a cover story of being under treatment for something highly contagious. Her boss, not wanting anyone else to get sick and vanish, handed over the (unpaid) set of days off without question once the doc signed a note.

Which is good, because Hinata really hasn’t felt like going into work.

She’s had Uchiha casually stalking her apartment building, discouraged from leaving it unless absolutely necessary. And beyond Sasuke taking her to get groceries two days ago (the man she saved and who accidentally started this whole fiasco), she hasn’t left the building, much less her apartment.

As dragging as work can be, she never realized until now how boring it is to be stuck at home. She’s bounced between bingeing shows and movies to playing games to browsing social media...to even just people watching from her window. Something she normally detests, given her own distaste of being observed. Well...by people, anyway. It’s unavoidable otherwise, what with security being as high as it is in Japan anymore.

But now here she is, three nights in and she’s finally reached a point where even sleep can’t do anything for her. So, now what to do. She doesn’t feel like watching or playing anything…

...she almost feels like going for a walk.

Of course, there’s no avoiding how odd that seems, given that it was this exact scenario over two weeks ago that got her into this mess in the first place: being unable to sleep, going for a walk under the bright lights of the nightlife city, and stumbling across a mod-stripped Sasuke in the gutter.

Does she dare do so again? Or will she risk running into some other mess that will get her life all the more interrupted?

...but then again...how much worse can it get, really?

Sighing, she chews her tongue in thought. If she does want to go for a walk...she’ll have to do so with an escort to make sure no snooping Senju snatches her off the sidewalk like last time she was out and about.

But her next question is who exactly is on duty...Sasuke’s the only one she’s talked to. The rest she’s had no real reason to see given her reclusion in her apartment. Anyone else...she’s not sure if she should ask to leave. They might just get annoyed, and she’s not really eager to push her luck anymore than she has. Sasuke made it pretty clear she’s not likely to have the gang’s support for too long. She might have saved Sasuke’s life...but one favor was likely already paid off when they in turn got her out of Tobirama’s clutches.

At least, in most minds.

Sasuke’s convinced he still owes her, given that it was his involvement in the first place that got her taken. His father seeing it the same way, however...hasn’t been going well.

And she’s still not sure what she’d rather have. While certainly not eager to be tug-of-warred between Uchiha and Senju, Hinata would rather just...not have to deal with either. She did her good deed, she got Sasuke out of trouble.

So why is she suddenly the one in distress?

Deciding to try her luck, she accesses Sasuke’s contact information in her communicator mod. It awaits input for a long moment befores she simply asks, Are you on duty this evening?

There’s a minute of silence.

Yeah. Why?

She can’t help a small sigh of relief. ...I can’t sleep. Sorta want to go for a walk.

You mean even considering what happened last time?

Her lips purse in a pout. Well I won’t be going alone this time, will I?

...she can almost hear his vexed sigh. ...guess you’ve got a point. All right, fine. You get fifteen minutes. Then back to bed, missy.

Hinata deadpans. Missy? What is she, sixteen? Ugh… Getting out of bed, she throws on random clothes and makes her way down to the main floor, feeling almost odd after a few days not seeing it.

And as expected, Sasuke waits near the entrance, leaned and relaxed.

At least he’s not smoking this time...eugh.

“Anything in particular keeping you awake?”

She gives him a glance. “You mean b-besides being caught in a turf war I have n-no real part in on account of doing something nice? Wondering if I’m going to lose my job or my apartment or whatever else? Nothing much, I guess.”

He just snorts. “Never would have taken you for the sassy type.”

“Even I have limits to my patience.”

“Clock’s ticking. Let’s see if we can tucker you out enough to sleep.”

Falling into step with him, Hinata asks, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Aren’t you...tired?”

“What, you think I’m not used to pulling all nighters?” Sasuke glances up, taking in the sights of the city’s neon lights. “I don’t really have much of a set sleep schedule. I just take it when I can.”

“That bad, huh?”

“My line of work isn’t exactly a nine to five. It’s whenever, wherever, however. All according to when my old man needs me to do something.”

Hinata gives a hum at that. And then a thought strikes her. “What...were you doing the night I found you? If...you don’t m-mind my asking.”

Shoulders shrug, indicating indifference. “Actually had the night off. Had been to a bar, was stumbling around...and they got the jump on me. Three Senju, all under direct orders of Tobirama. He’s wanted me dead for a looong time. Well...he wants us all dead, ideally. But as my dad’s more active son, I’m a pretty big target.”

Her brows furrow. “...active…?”

“My brother’s got some health issues. Mostly taken care of by mods, but...he’s still gotta be careful. So he’s more of an organizer, behind-the-scenes sorta guy rather than a runner-gunner like me. There’s only one reason he showed up to help bust you and the doc out. And a hint: it wasn’t you.”

“...oh…”

“Do I get to ask a counter question?”

“I guess there’s n-nothing else to do while we walk.”

“Why’d your dad cut you off?”

To her own surprise, the question doesn’t sour her mood. Maybe she’s too tired. “...my father is one of the biggest mod manufacturers in the east. Mostly medical ones rather than cosmetic. They help a lot of people, save a lot of lives...but are unethically expensive. When I got old enough to realize just what he was doing, I f-found my courage and confronted him about it. He ridiculed me, told me I didn’t understand, and...disinherited me. My sister is who will get everything when my father dies...partially split with my cousin, who is one of the main engineers behind the tech. But he’s not a child of my father, s-so...he’ll get less despite doing far more.”

Sasuke seems to mull that over for a moment. “...full offense, but...your dad’s a right prick.”

Hinata can’t help a snort. “...yeah. Yeah, he is.”

“And now you work in an insurance company who does pretty much the same thing, just from a different angle: extorts people for the mods they need.”

“...yeah.”

“Does that feel a bit...hypocritical to you, given what you tried to stand up for with your dad?”

“...in a way. But you also know I don’t do everything by the book. Whenever I can - when the case is bad enough - I refer them to Suigin-san and her ‘charitable’ work. I’ve never been caught.”

“How’d you meet her, anyway?”

“As a patient, believe it or not.” There’s a moment of hesitation, and then Hinata lifts a hand to her chest. “...I have an implant in my heart. I’ve had it since I was twelve. My cousin Neji, he…” She sighs. “...he and I had a very...s-strained relationship when young. His father, my father’s twin, was equal parts of the company, and...died when we were small. For the longest time, e-everyone suspected my father had him killed, to gain complete control. Obviously...that earned hatred from my cousin. And as my father’s heir...I was the target he could go after. He’s always been a genius, and...developed a subcutaneous mod that acts as a taser. He never told anyone, and experimented with it on himself. When he perfected it...he attacked me with it w-when we were preteens. I’d always been a little frail, and...the voltage stopped my heart.”

Sasuke’s eyes go wide. “Oh, shit…”

A somber nod. “...when I came to, I was in a clinic nearby the private school we were attending, where he attacked me. And it was Suigin-san who saved me. She implanted the device that keeps my heart stable, and...we’ve been connected ever since. So, once I got my job, I was talking to her about my f-frustrations, and...she admitted to her under-the-table work. And that’s...how that all got s-started.”

“...well I’ll be damned. How, uh...how do you guys get along now? You and your cousin?”

“After the...falling out, he approached me. Told me my father had blackmailed him to work for the company...saying he’d not press charges for attacking me if he agreed to use his genius for the tech. Of course, he had no choice...but once he realized what I stood for, and that I let it all go for my m-morals...he finally apologized. I couldn’t blame him for hating me...what I stood for. But we’re decent friends, now. We don’t talk much for fear of my father getting angry and s-sabotaging Neji somehow, though.”

“...and I thought my family had problems.”

Hinata can’t help a soft laugh. “Well...it could be worse. Anymore I’m just...getting by. Not really sure what else to d-do with myself. I help who I can with Suigin-san’s assistance, but...it’s drops in the bucket, y’know?”

“Yeah...well…” Sasuke gives her a glance. “...the offer still stands to go after him as my debt. Maybe I could do something about all that, huh?”

“...maybe. Right now, though...I’m too tired to think about it.”

“Tired enough to sleep?”

“Mm...I hope so.”

The pair then start angling back toward the proper building. Once there, Sasuke seems to...hesitate under the lights.

“...sorry if I, uh...pressed too hard.”

“No, not at all. I didn’t say a-anything I didn’t want to. Besides, it...sort of felt nice to get that off my chest. Maybe I really will sleep now.”

“...I hope so. I’ll be off in the morning to rest, but...I’ll keep you updated. Something tells me my dad’ll have made up his mind about things. We’ll see.”

“All right. Goodnight, Sasuke-san.”

“Night.”

Dredging back up to her room, Hinata collapses into bed. And by some grace, it takes her only moments to fall asleep.

                                                      .oOo.

     (This is a sequel to days 250, 254, 269, 300, 303, and 309!)       Aaand more cyberpunk AU. And a bit more detailed background on our two MCs...well, more so Hinata than Sasuke, but we'll get there. You think she'd be more wary of walking around at night, but...well, I guess she feels a bit safer given who she's with ;3      Also for anyone curious (which I doubt but whatever lol), this actually subtly mirrors the "canon" plot of how Hinata and Ryū meet, Ryū being one of the medics that helps save Hinata after her fight against Neji in the chūnin exams! Just a wee lil tidbit I threw in, lol      Buuut anyway, I am...EXHAUSTED so I'm gonna go crash! Thanks so much for reading~

[regressionanxiety]

Dr. No (1964)

I am watching all of the James Bond movies, they are very bad and I love them. These are some of my thoughts as I watch, it’s basically a recap so you know, spoilers...

It starts with some murdering. James Bond is called into work, goes through the waiting room and meets with M.  He gets a new gun because M insists, he’s very proud that under his leadership 00-deaths have gone down. Moneypenny is the best as always.

James Bond arrives in Jamaica and is instantly spotted, of course he is, he is after all, the worst spy. He is looking for a Taxi, but there is a driver waiting for him. Not at all suspicious. Bond makes a phone call. Is being spied on. Then goes to the car, and tells the driver to “just take me for a ride.” I know he’s just stalling, but I will use this line as support for my argument that James Bond is a chaotic bisexual. 

Now Bond points his gun at his driver, questioning him, as he well should. The driver kills himself with cyanide hidden in a cigarette. Bond takes the car and drives to wherever he’s going, dead guy in the back seat. Tells a person when he arrives: “'sergeant, make sure he doesn’t get away.”

He  drinks and puts out snooper traps in his room before he goes out to investigate his case futher. Chatting with some men, being his very best Miss Marple her, non threathening, pleasant conversationalist, even when the topic is grim. He’s directed to a man with a boat, Quarrel, who doesn’t want to talk to Bond and gives him some sass (everyone should give Bond sass) and turns him away. Bond, of course, isn’t deterred and approaches the man just as he’s having a bear. Now he wants to talk, because it’s private. They go into a storage room of some kind. The man has a knife and the guy at the bar (I think), grabs bond from behind. Bond easily throws them both into some neatly stacked (and empty) Red Stripe cartons, product placement or just an attempt to convince us that we’re really in Jamaica right now?

Bond thinks he has the upper hand now, but no! The man from the airport (not the dead driver - this isn’t that kind of movie) with his sunglasses is there, and he has a gun! 

“gently, gently, let’s not get exited” the man says. With those sunglasses it’s hard not to mister. They are talking suits, like real gents. The other guy is CIA, and his name is Felix Leiter. They’re friends now, with drinks (and i’m sure fucking - those sunglasses can only mean one thing). Underneath the mango tree plays.

A woman takes their picture, now they need to get her. They question her a bit, Bond destroys her film, but gives her the camera back, they send her off. She calls them rats and says they’ll be sorry. 

Bond learns about an island Crab Key (?) owned by a Chinese guy, apparently Quarrel and missing guy Strangways went there to collect geological samples. Locals won’t go near it, some have and never came back. They know very little of the man, except that his name is the titular Dr. No.

Bond is exiting a taxi, and the men who dealt with Strangways earlier are back, sneaking around with a gun pointed at Bond, but a car roars by and they miss their chance at an easy assassination.  

Bond is talking to a professor Dent (one of the men he chattet with about Strangways before) about the geological samples from Strangways, he claims to have thrown them away because they weren’t anything. Bond is batting his eyelashes and being his best Miss Marple again. He knows the man is a liar!

Prof. Dent goes straight to a boat to get to Crab Key. These bad guys are really dumb. Anyway; crab key is guarded by men with big guns. 

Very dramatic room. The professor is being berated by a disembodied voice for coming during daylight hours, stricktly forbidden. This still isn’t that kind of movie, but Dr. No is clearly a vampire. There’s a spider in a cage on a table. If guns don’t work on Bond, try spider bites?

Bond is back in his room. Checks his intruder revealers and as expected they have been disturbed. He wants some vodka, throws ice in a glass, opens the bottle, thinks twice, sniffs it, then puts it back down and opens a drawer and pulls out another bottle. Uses this instead. I’m not sure why that bottle would be safer, unopened and sealed somehow?

Ruh roh! Someone feels a little spidey! Bond killed it, his first murder in this film! 

Bond gest a package, finds that the files on Crab Key are missing, sets up a date with a secretary (the stunning miss Taro) he caught eavesdropping. Business as usual. His package was a geiger counter? He checks some samples with his pals Leiter and Quarrel, and yes, they are radioactive. The professor is a liar! Gasp! Who knew! Now they must go to Crab Key, but in the night, after his date. But wait! there’s a note for him at the hotel reception. He calls miss Taro, she wants him to come to her and gives him some directions, a car starts following him, trying to drive him off the road? Oh noe, a crane or something is in the road, what will Bond do? His little car goes under, the bigger car that follows? Not so much, goes over and burns up. 

“How did it happen?” The man who has the crane thing asks. “I think they were on their way to a funeral,” Bond replies.

He finally arrives at Miss Taro’s, shes just out of the shower, drying her hair, while wearing a tight toweldress???? Clearly not expecting him. He kisses her, and she protests. 

The phone rings. She promises to try to keep him there. He really does seem to be a terrible kisser. They fuck. He pretends to want italian food so he calls a taxi, despite getting there by car. She is confused, he kisses her again to distract. Then the car comes, and she’s arrested. She spits in his face, which he deserves. He goes into her house again, creates a scene: pours some drinks, leaves his jacket, puts on a song (underneath the mango tree, again), goes into the bedroom and uses a pillow to make it look like someone is in it. Then he waits.

The professor walks through the door and shoots up the pillow. They have a chat. Bond shoots him. Then meets up with Quarrel to go on to the island. Makes a quip about it being a break from being a clay pigeon, but I somehow I doubt it. Leister is worried offers to go instead, but Bond refuses him. 

Wait, why is bond asleep on the beach? Was that the plan? Did I miss something?

Ah, the bikini. It isn’t a very good one is it? They’re hiding from guards with guns now. Bond promises he’s no threat to this woman, Honey Ryder, but we all know that’s a lie. They must hide, they’ve been spotted on radar. They get shot at, the woman’s boat is ruined so she has to tag along. They sneak up some kind of river I think. Almost get caught, but don’t, hiding under water using reeds as breathing tubes. Honey claims Dr. No killed her father, a marine biologist, who came to Crab Key to never be seen again.

Now she’s telling Bond about how she killed her landlord (who raped her) via spiderbite. It took him a week to die. Bond just pouts at her, probably knows he might have deserved that spiderbite earlier...

The rumored dragon is nearby, and Bond, who knows it isn’t actually a dragon, wants to see it. 

they’re captured, Quarrel is dead, and claimed to be contaminated. Geiger counters going wild! They need to be hosed down. Then they’re put in very nice quater and treated as guests. because why not. They have some coffee, it’s drugged and they pass out. Bond breaks a perfeclty good cup in the process - that brute. A mysterious figure, with shiny latexy gloves takes a look at Bond in bed. Dr. No presumably, he lifts the cover a little before we cut to the next scene. Sean Connery really isn’t that attractive Dr. just kill him already!

I’ve always wanted an evil lair. Finally the elusive Dr. No is revealed. Are you a good Bond villain if you don’t have a physical disability? It appears that he doesn’t have hands, because of errors in his work or something. He finds Bond a worthy adversary or some such. Bond has Honey sent away from the dinner table - ostensibly to save her. Dr. No quickly realizes that Bond is in fact just a policeman, not smart enough to join his criminal gang after all, SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion) has no need for the likes of Bond, though if they did he’d prefer the revenge department. He is apparently being tortured, we don’t get to see that, but his clothes are ruined when we next see him in a cell he quickly escapes from by going into the pipes that keep this underwater facility with air. He falls down one of them and gets to take his shirt off. Oh no! Water rushes in and Bond must hold on! 

He gets out, finds his way into a radiation suit (stylish, with a very square hood, he looks like a Doctor Who villain in an episode where they ran out of budget) and infiltrates a control room! They’re talking about a vehicle and say the word radiation a lot. Bondis trying to figure out how to sabotage their sabotage (of a rocket launch). Big science words! No time to think for Bond, just punch everyone! Chaos! Alarms blaring, abort abort! 

Bond vs Dr. No. Bond wins and Dr. No goes down in what may be boiling radioactive water? Doesn’t seem like a delicious way to go. Everyone is fleeing the facility, Bond somehow finds Honey and frees her (she’s tied up on some ramp with water coming in, were they going to let the tide drown her? This is not how you kill people effectively). 

Lots of footage of people fleeing, flinging themselves into the ocean etc. Bond and Honey get a boat, the facility goes boooooooooooom! 

The boat runs out of fuel, and Bond and Honey settle in to wait for rescue, Leiter show up and start to give them a tow, but Bond lets the rope go so he and Honey can fuck. Leiter shakes his head and smiles at them in an overbearing manner. 

THE END

[geek-patient-zero]

Part 2, Chapter 2

Or: Prospect Fights

Blood War: Masquerade of the Red Death Trilogy Volume 1

Brooklyn, NY—March 14, 1994

Last chapter we were introduced to our second main protagonist (and secret “former” ancient vampire) Alicia Varney, her manservant (and sometimes lover but only if she’s really desperate) Sanford Jackson, and her (ignorantly treated and no doubt illegally owned) pet black panther Sumohn. Miss Varney decided to start her day off by taking her pet for a walk in “Prospect Heights Park”, which Jackson described as a virtual No Man’s Land abandoned by the police and local government to gangs and psychos. 

Before we move on, let’s talk a bit about the place.

In real life, the park this chapter takes place in is called Prospect Park. No “Heights”. Looks like Weinberg got the name confused with Prospect Heights, a small but affluent neighborhood and one of five that border the park. The park’s main entrance, Grand Army Plaza, is part of Prospect Heights, so along with the name and location I can see how you can confuse the two.

There really was a point, during the 70′s, where the park was considered dangerous and crime-infested. I know. A place in New York City? In the 70′s? Awful? Nah, can’t be. Back then, 44% of New Yorkers warned others to avoid the park. One New York Times article I’ve found from 2010, about a then-retiring park administrator credited with helping restore the place, begins with this about 1970′s Prospect Park:

Drugs were sold at the carousel. Muggers used the cover provided by the park’s shrubs and foliage. One year, near the skating rink, a man was found shot to death, and another year, the acting supervisor of the zoo was arrested and charged with shooting animals.

In the 1970s, Prospect Park in Brooklyn looked more like a crime scene than the pastoral refuge imagined a century earlier by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux.

As if to advertise the woeful state of the park, in 1976 Columbia, the figure driving atop the arch at Grand Army Plaza, fell over in her chariot, a victim of disrepair.

So don’t go thinking that Weinberg got all this stuff from nothing.

During the 80′s and early 90′s, thanks to efforts from both the city and non-profits like The Prospect Park Alliance, the park was cleaned up and became a nice safe place to take the kids. But this is the World of Darkness, a Harsher, Crueler Yadda Dadda Da, you get the point. Going with the usual theme of “Everything’s Awful, Always, and We’re All Going to Die (And There’s Werewolves N’ Shit)” what little restoration efforts were made to the park in this universe failed miserably. And hoooohoho man did they fail. Here’s how the chapter starts, with a more thorough description of the park now that we’ve got a viewpoint character there:

Huge white signs with blood-red lettering were posted on every gate leading into the park, declaring the area off-limits to law-abiding citizens. The posters, left untouched more as a grim joke than sage advice, were ignored by the crowds of people who constantly entered and left the forested area. Prospect Heights served as the major supply center of illicit drugs, assault weapons, and kept women in New York City. It was also the headquarters of more than a half-dozen major gangs and two terrorist groups.

Anything illegal could be bought for a price in the dense woods. That purchasing the goods required a certain amount of risk was a fact of life. It was all part of the New York scene. Those who couldn’t adapt, left. Or died.

A fifteen-foot-high steel fence surrounded the entire park. The last attempt of a previous administration to keep the cancerous growth of the park from spreading through Brooklyn and the connecting boroughs, it worked more as a barrier to keep the police out than the criminals in. At least once a month, a body was found impaled on the sharp spikes that topped the posts. Several years ago a dozen heads had decorated the pikes for days, a grim reminder of the gang warfare that waged incessantly within the gates. 

It’s like if instead of closing down and becoming an auto parts shop, your local Blockbuster turned into a snuff film distributor. Also, goddamn terrorists moved in.

No one dared to enter the park alone, or unarmed. Unless that person was Alicia Varney.

Walking in with a panther doesn’t mean you’re accompanied and armed? Good to know, good to know.

It’s currently early afternoon, and let’s see... She got up at sunrise, which in March would be between six and six-thirty. The events of the last chapter seemed to have taken about over an hour. She’d have to get from Manhattan to Brooklyn in World of Darkness New York City traffic. Assuming she was driven she probably didn’t beat rush hour. If she had really bad luck, she would’ve had to deal with squeegie-men; y’know, those guys who wash the windows of cars stuck in traffic without being asked and try to extort the driver for the “service”? And she’d have to take a route that avoided the Baseball Furies. Add all that up and... I guess? Frankly, early afternoon’s the best case scenario here.

Varney, with Sumohn by her side with a thin leather strip for a leash, enters the park near the giant carousel (which according to the PPA website is the Willink entrance, east side of the park, at Flatbush Avenue and Empire Boulevard). The carousel was “one of the last efforts in the futile attempt to restore Prospect Heights to its former glory”, making it sound like the whole thing was installed recently instead of being a part of the park since the early 1900′s.

Alright, alright, no more park talk. You’re here for vampires, not Brooklyn history, I get it.

The black panther growled softly with every step. A great deal different than an ordinary jungle cat, the monstrous beast possessed more than five senses. It detected hostility in the woods. And death.

After what we’ve been told about the park, no shit, cat.

I’ve seen some WOD vampire OC’s described as having ghoul pets, There’s this one video campaign on Youtube, Blood on the Thames, where the Nosferatu character has a pet ghouled fennec fox. But when you think about it, if ghouling works the same with animals as it does with people, then they’re not really pets. They’re mental slaves, their feelings of love and loyalty toward their owner artificial. They might look happy to see your OC, but in reality it’s having a little heart attack out of fear because the thing rubbing its belly is an unnatural dead thing that God hates and they can’t do anything but let it. And your OC wouldn’t even know.

But I’ve never seen that aspect explored before. In fanworks, Ghouling’s just a way for a vampire to have a pet with an extended lifespan. In official material, there’re other important benefits to ghouling animals. Feeding them a little vampire blood every once in a while makes them bigger, faster, and stronger, and since they’re compelled to be loyal to you, they make useful weapons. We’ll see that a few times in this trilogy.

Sumohn senses something dangerous in the park, and you won’t be surprised to learn that the she and her owner aren’t here just for exercise.

“I feel it too,” said Alicia softly, talking to the panther as if it possessed human intelligence. “They’re out there in the park somewhere. Watching and waiting for me. I first sensed their presence when I woke up this morning.

We saw you wake up this morning. You shimmied around in your sheets naked while thinking about how good it was to be alive. Then took a shower and masturbated. But maybe ancient Mesopotamians have a different way of reacting to threats on their life. How would I know?

Someone wants me dead. They’re hiding in the woods. I thought it best to confront them here, on their home ground, instead of chancing their disrupting my plans for the evening.”

She sensed this one threat in Brooklyn all the way from her Manhatten penthouse. Fucking Methuselahs...

Once they’re far enough into the woods for the setting to be dark and ominous even in the afternoon, Varney takes the collar and leash off Sumohn so it can hunt down her enemies.

Chuckling, Alicia tucked the leather strap into her belt. She had complete faith in her pet. It would find and eliminate those who meant her harm. It was just a matter of time.

While Sumohn’s hunting her enemies, Varney decides to take a stroll and enjoy nature. Big business Manhattan garbage had been cutting into her free time, and it’s been months “since she had experienced the feeling of freedom walking in the woods gave her.” She plans on enjoying it as fully and luxuriously as she does everything else, all the while “mentally” keeping an eye out for threats.

Alicia had no desire to be surprised by unexpected visitors. Jackson had been correct when he said that Prospect Heights was no place for a young, unarmed woman. But Alicia was a great deal older than her bodyguard imagined. And she was not nearly as unprotected as Jackson thought.

She hears Sumohn’s “scream of rage” break the silence, meaning her pet had just made a kill. Unfortunately, despite Varney making it sound like the panther would wipe out her enemies on its own, Sumohn worked too slowly. Varney abruptly realizes that she was surrounded by five other people. She can’t see them yet, but she can sense them with her psychic radar power that I’m assuming is an Auspex power. Two of them are heading toward her, so she summons Sumohn back to her. This being a vampire story, she does this with a brief theater kid monologue.

“I refuse to let anyone interrupt my plans,” muttered Alicia angrily. “Death is not an acceptable option at this stage of the game. Sumohn, attend me. There is killing work to be done here.”

The two hostiles reach her.

“Hey, lady?” The speaker was a short, thin man around thirty, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans. He wore no shirt, despite the cool March weather. A tattoo of a naked woman with an arrow passing through her breasts adorned his hairless chest. Stuck in the waist of his pants was a .45 automatic. “You lost or something?”

“Yeah, said his companion, tall and wide, with a shaven head, pencil-thin eyebrows, and a perpetual leer. He also wore jeans and no shirt. A 12-gauge shotgun, carried loosely in one hand, was his weapon. “Or maybe you’re looking for some action.”

They weren’t called “swarthy,” so these must be white gangbangers.

Varney realizes the assassins plan to rape her before killing her, because this is dark fantasy and rape’s gonna get brought up eventually. There’s some prose about sex and death being linked throughout history, especially hers, then she begins to deal with these guys. Now, you figure she’ll start with one of her vampire powers. Maybe a Presence power, making the gang awed and infatuated with her and drawing them into killing distance. Or maybe she’ll skip messing with their heads and use Celerity to boost her speed and reflexes, swiftly killing them before they can reach for their guns. Or

“Actually,” declared Alicia, taking a tentative step forward, “I was looking for some big, handsome men to satisfy the hunger inside me. I need to be fucked. Repeatedly. Do you two think you can help me?”

...Or that?

“Huh?” said the short man, her reply taking him completely by surprise. His face turned beet red. It was an old trick, but one that still worked. The jerks expected her to cower in fear, beg for mercy–not talk about sex. They weren’t sure how to respond.

Gun her down immediately because this is clearly a trap.

Look, despite how I might come across, I don’t get bothered every time a character does something irrational or wrong in a story. But considering this gang shares their territory with six or seven other gangs and two terrorist groups, and one bad move could get their heads mounted on the park perimeter, there’s no way they should be stupid enough to fall for this. But they do, because the writer wanted to contrive a scene where Alicia Varney “weaponizes her sexuality” I guess.

Varney’s “vulgar declaration” also lures out the three other men, who “didn’t want to miss out on any of the action.” Now all of her enemies are in view, but considering she could sense their presence accurately enough to know exactly how many of them there are, she really didn’t have to.

“You heard me,” said Alicia, raising her voice so that everyone could hear her. “I’m burning up. I want it so bad my body feels like it’s on fire.” She ran her hands up and down her hips, pressing the material of her pants tight against her skin. She moaned passionately. “If I don’t get it quick, I’ll go crazy.”

“Hot damn,” said the big man excitedly, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the buttons of his pants. “The bitch wants to get screwed, and I’m going to nail her right now. The rest of you jokers wait in line, ‘cause I’m first.”

God damn, this is so unnecessary.

The shorter guy struggles with his belt in an attempt to beat his friend to the sex, but thankfully this whole bit comes to an end when Sumohn pounces on him and pulps his head with her jaws. Trusting the panther to take care of the other guy as well, Varney turns to the three other gang members. They try to aim their guns at her, but instead start jerking around “in a ghastly parody of dancing”, unable to shoot her as she approaches.

“What the hell is wrong?” screamed the nearest of the trio, a young black man still in his teens. “I can’t do nothing.”

“A simple matter of paralyzing the part of the brain controlling motor skills,” said Alicia with a smile.

There’re some Thaumatergy powers that could do this, but Varney will turn out to have nothing to do with the Tremere, so it’s unlikely this is any of those. There’s also Paralyzing Glance, an advanced Presence power that can “send someone into a seizure of terror.” Or maybe I’m overthinking it and she’s just generically psychic.

Varney kills the teenager first by tearing out his throat, her technique described more thoroughly than when Makish ripped out a guy’s throat. The second guy, she uses the old “smash his nose cartilage into his brain” move, the second time someone’s been killed that way in this story, and not the last time someone will be in this trilogy. Apparently it’s impossible to do. Even if cartilage was strong enough to penetrate bone, using enough force to do so would likely smash the victim’s skull in anyway. But it sounds cool and Weinberg was probably fond of it. He also seemed to think it would result in a quick death because he described Varney as “merciless but not cruel” before she does it. Anyway, the third guy faints, so Varney snaps his neck while he’s unconscious.

“Very neat, Miss Varney,” said a voice from behind her. “But not really very smart. You let yourself get distracted by the diversions. I’m the real threat.”

Alicia turned, knowing she was too late.

If the assassin who snuck up on you is this chatty and you still don’t turn around by the time he’s finished, you should feel embarrassed.

Sumohn’s too busy tearing apart the guy who was taking his pants off earlier to notice her owner’s in trouble, “a wonderful ally but was too easily tempted” as the narration puts it. This sixth guy, her “true enemy” who somehow evaded her telepathic people sensor, is a well dressed young man already squeezing the trigger on his submachine gun. But instead of Varney dying and ending her role in the story weirdly early, the assassin drops with the handle of a bowie knife sticking out of his back.

“I paralyzed his fingers so he wouldn’t jerk the trigger by accident,” said a blonde man in a white suit and white shirt, walking over to the corpse. Bending down, he jerked the knife out of the body and wiped the blood on the dead man’s clothes.

Hey, Reuben.

He tells Varney that the dead guy was named Leo Taggert, who was headquartered in Coney Island and specialized in “celebrity kills”. The other jerks were local talent he hired. He was also a ghoul who could hide his thoughts, which is why Varney didn’t sense him. Varney asks who Reuban is, thinking he looks familiar yet positive she’d never met him, but Reuben only says he’s “a friend.”

He turned and started walking down the road. “Better call off your pet,” he said in parting. “That man’s quite dead.”

Distracted for an instant, Alicia glanced at Sumohn. When her gaze returned to where the stranger had been, he was gone.

Quickly she mentally scanned the area. Discounting a drug dealer and his teenage customers, there was no one within a hundred yards of her location. It was quite mysterious. Alicia hated mysteries.

Varney asks Sumohn if she saw Reuban, but because she’s a big dumb animal all Sumohn’s thinking about is “blood and death.” And probably mating, because Varney doesn’t seem like the type who spays her pets. She didn’t notice the stranger either during or after the attack, like he appeared and disappeared out of thin air.

“And this SOB,” said Alicia, kicking the dead body of Leo Taggert in frustration, “called me by my name. He was no ordinary assassin hired by my business rivals. He was a ghoul. Which ties him in with the Kindred. And the joker knew enough about me to hide his thoughts. Damn.”

At least her first fight went better than McCann’s. The only thing he has over her in this department is that he didn’t try to distract his would-be assassin with the idea of unexpected sex.

Varney assumes that Jackson’s loyal, so she figures whoever wants her dead has either been watching her closely, or they’re linked to her “friends” at The Devil’s Playground.

First there had been the distressing tiding about Baba Yaga. Now came this assassination attempt, coupled with the appearance of the oddly familiar young man. Alicia wondered grimly what else could go wrong.

It was a question best not asked.

That’s the end of the chapter. Alicia Varney’s “weaponized sexuality” scene in this chapter is the lowest/most awkward this trilogy gets. The good news is, no matter what other dumb things happens, it’s all uphill from here.

[toxic-lucky]

All for Fred ofc

1. If your oc was to host a TV show, what would it be about? Would your oc be good at it? What sorts of guests would appear?

Probably some dumb kinda documentary show about aliens or something, and he’d just sit in the back disproving alien theorists for fun.

2. Can your oc play any instruments? Have they ever wanted to learn how to play any? Why?

He can play the drums.

3. If you were to choose another name for your oc, what do you think it would be? Did you choose it for how it sounds or for its meaning?

Probably Tim due to it not being one of those “stand out in a crowd” names and instead something pretty “normal.”

4. How does your oc fare in the dark? Are they scared? Do they trip over things really easily or navigate like they have night vision? (Or do they have night vision?)

He doesn’t fare well in the dark and freaks out low-key. He ends up bumping into almost everything.

5. How well would your oc fare as a teacher? What subject would they be best at teaching? What about the worst?

He’d be an alright coding and design tech teacher, otherwise he’d suck at gym.

6. What was your oc’s relationship with their parents like? If they didn’t have any parents/didn’t know them, who in their life was the closest to a parent to them?

His relationship with his mother was horrible, she was verbally and physically abusive, and abused his father in front of him many times in his childhood. He is close with his father, who absolutely loves and adores him, but is also always worried about Fred. Fred doesn’t enjoy all the attention but deals with it anyways.

7. Does your oc have any allergies, intolerances, or other sensitivities? How dangerous is it? Does this affect their daily life in any way?

He’s lactose intolerant.

8. Does your oc prefer being in a crowd or being completely alone? How many people can be around them before they get uncomfortable?

He prefers to be completely alone, and gets uncomfortable when the number exceeds 3.

9. How easily does your oc make friends? Do they have difficulty talking to new people? Why?

He doesn’t like talking to people, but he makes friends fast.

10. How open is your oc to trying new things? Are they the adventurous sort, or would they rather stay in their comfort zone? Why?

He likes to stay in a predictable comfort zone, it makes him feel more at ease.

11. What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to your oc?  Do they still feel ashamed for it? Were there any witnesses?

Nothing.

12. Does your oc have any best friends? Who was/is their closest friend? What about their worst enemy?

Taylen, I guess, and no proper worst enemy considering he works with most.

13. How dangerous is your oc? Are they completely innocent, or someone to be feared? Do others know?

Pretty dangerous and someone to be feared. Well, honestly, he shouldn’t be feared that much but people seem to tread lightly around him.

14. What is your oc’s vision like? Do they require glasses, are they completely blind, or do they have 20/20 vision? Does this have an effect on their life?

His vision in his right eye is fine, but his left is pretty fucked to the point where a lot of light or flashing light hurts badly.

15. What is your oc’s favourite time of day? Why is this? Do they have a daily practice during this time?

Night. People leave him alone.

16. How often does your oc lie? Why is that? What was the biggest lie they’ve ever told?

He lies a lot, but he’s trying to deal with it better. His biggest lie was probably “I’m innocent.”

17. How well can your oc keep secrets? Is there a difference between how they handle their own vs someone else’s? To what lengths would they go to keep something hidden?

He keeps secrets relatively well, but he doesn’t care if his own get out.

18. How does your oc fare in an emergency situation? Do they panic, do they freeze, do they take charge?

He panics ever so slightly, before taking charge.

19. If your oc were to be arrested for something, what would it be for? For being too kind, for a legitimate crime?

Assault, attack, fraud, extortion, smuggling, tax evasion, y’know run of the mill stuff.

20. What is your oc’s personal hygiene like? Is it important to them? What is their daily routine for this like?

It’s not that important, he’ll take a shower every so often.

21. Are there any public events your oc would love to go to? Concerts, plays, movies, parties, etc? What about ones that they would hate? Why?

Everything he would hate. Too much people.

22. How quiet or loud is your oc? Are they easily capable of sneaking around without being heard, or do they feel it’s impossible to stop talking?

Fred speaks loud but minimally.

23. How difficult is it for your oc to get to sleep? Do they fall asleep the moment they hit the pillow, or do they have insomnia? Any reason why?

He either sleeps too much or gets no sleep at all, there is no in between.

24. How dramatic is your oc? Do they make a big deal over every little thing, or do they fail to react to even the most crazy of events?

He’s not all that dramatic, at least at the start. When Taylen is around he gets a bit more dramatic and over-exaggerates to entertain them.

25. How does your oc handle being sick? Do they pretend not to be? Do they complain a lot? How susceptible to getting sick are they?

He’d ignore the symptoms until they get too bad to push away, then he’d whine about it for a bit before trying to push himself again.

26. How stylistically fancy is your oc? Or would they rather go for comfort and plainness instead?

Comfort. He’d only dress up for “important events.”

27. What’s your oc’s preferred mode of transportation? Walking, vehicle, (or in a sci-fi/magic setting) teleportation?

Vehicle or Robot.

28. Is your oc always late, always early, or always right on time? Is there any reason for this?

On time, to the second. He gets very pushy about being properly “on time” when it comes to things.

29. How empathetic is your oc? Or are they closer to being a sociopath? Any reason why?

He is a sociopath. No empathy/sympathy gang rise up. It’s this way because of a mix of ASPD and general lack of understanding how people work.

30. How much does your oc swear? Or do they keep completely clean? Why is this? Is there any situation where they would be the opposite?

He swears only in frustration, otherwise he’s pretty chill.

31. What is your oc’s sense of humour like? What do they find funny? Do they try to be funny? Are they actually?

He finds really dumb things funny, like baby ducks chasing after people or those bass boosted “fried” meme videos.

32. Is your oc a pacifist, or someone who picks fights? Why? In what situations would they be the opposite?

He’d pick fights just on the basis of reputation.

33. How does your oc’s own perception of themselves compare to how other people see them? Is your oc aware that other people see them differently (if it’s different)?

Their self-image fluctuates a lot, and can go from “same level as a god people should love me” to “I’m worthless and pathetic I should just die” though typically on good days he’s at a “I exist in a body, and that’s neat” kinda view. He is aware others see him differently, and is glad.

34. How easily does your oc throw something away? As soon as something is through with its usefulness, or are they more like a hoarder? Is there a reason?

He likes to keep things just on the basis that it might come in handy someday.

35. Is your oc a workaholic, or do they find it hard to be busy at all? Do they find it easy to relax, or must they have something to do at all times? Why?

He’d like to work all the time, but doesn’t. He also doesn’t find it that hard to relax due to him “not feeling” stressed (aka he only feels physical symptoms not emotional ones)

36. What is your oc’s ideal night out like? Or would they rather spend it at home?

Probably just chilling at a library coding while it rains outside.

37. How picky is your oc? Will they not accept something because of the smallest details being off, or do they not care in the slightest? Why?

He doesn’t care, he’ll just accept it and toss it aside. He doesn’t really care that much about it unless it’s cool, then it goes into his workshop.

38. How energetic is your oc? Do they have trouble sitting still or do they feel low on juice all the time? Any reason why?

He’s low on energy most of the time due to depressive episodes and general apathy + lack of motivation.

39. Is it difficult for your oc to focus, or do they have no trouble being in the moment? Do they daydream or zone out?

Fred can focus rather easily and keep said focus.

40. How humble is your oc? Or are they closer to royal in their self-perception? Why? Is this obvious to others?

His view on himself fluctuates so often it’s at the point where it’s harmful.