#and right after shes marked for death and takes more damage for some time after

[tozettastone]

can we get Maddie and Sakura meeting?

We can get Maddie and Sakura meeting. There was meant to be a little more to this but it does meet the brief.

This will make the most sense if you happen to be up to date on current Maddie lore but it only makes real reference to this short. (https://www.tumblr.com/tozettastone/755394950148096000)

---

Maddie preferred not to take jobs referred by her father. The first and only time she had, she'd managed to get her throat cut for her efforts. (She'd been poisoned, too, and the memory of trying to vomit up bile from her empty stomach through the massive slice in her throat had really lingered.)

Once burnt, twice shy and all that.

Unfortunately, what she was doing now, tracking Takahashi Ichiro through the most miserable season in Fire Country, wasn't a job "referred" by Kakuzu, exactly. Rather, he'd spotted Takahashi from a distance while recovering from, like, you know, death? And then he'd imperiously set Maddie the task of tracking his bounty while he staggered off to collect another four hearts in case he had to fight him.

At the time, Kakuzu had simply presented her with a page from his bingo book over tea.

He pointed. "This one."

His fingertips were bare, and they were still kind of black. Some of his nails had fallen off. It turned out that even a ragdoll monster needed a little chakra circulation. He was damaged.

Not as damaged as Hidan, mind. Hidan had been sewn back together as neatly as Maddie knew how, but he looked like Frankenstein's monster and was still spending most of his time either asleep or simmering himself in Maddie's bathtub. He complained about the cold a lot, but she had the sense that the cold was more psychological than physical. Sure, he'd lost a lot of blood and been in the cold earth. But he'd also been cut into pieces and buried alive in the dark. That one was going to leave a mark.

His current state did make the farmhouse quiet, though.

Maddie caught the bingo book page under one finger, careful not to touch Kakuzu, and slid it across the table.

Takahashi Ichiro was the first born son of a ninja family in Mist. No bloodline limit, flawless service record, started to show symptoms of what might be diplomatically called 'losing faith in village administration,' in his early twenties. He'd been a missing-nin for five years and groups of hunters sent after him had typically turned up stiff and blue-faced in a river.

He was a swordsman, a water technique master, and an elite front line combat specialist. He had stupid spiky hair and a birth mark on his jaw.

"A jounin, huh... He looks like he might be pretty scary," she said, dubious. She could feel the chakra signature Kakuzu meant though, a big watery knot off on the next nearest island of Wave. Bold of him to come back to what was nominally Mist territory, but the big bridge meant Leaf got to contest it. Maybe safer than four or five years ago, huh?

"You can't beat him. So don't get caught," Kakuzu advised, with zero sympathy.

"...Right." Maddie hesitated. She felt like, actually, Kakuzu owed her a lot more than she owed him, right now. But... he was still recovering from getting a rasengan to the face and lying around with no heart for two days before she crammed a new one into his body, so he wasn't at his best. And she could — technically — do this task, as long as nothing went wrong.

She was sentimental enough that she didn't want to disappoint her ailing father. Somehow.

God.

"Um... Sure," she said weakly, leaving Kakuzu looking as satisfied as he ever did.

And so Maddie left her cosy farmhouse in Wave and followed Takahashi at a distance of about six miles, cautiously pacing her away along the outer edge of her own sensing range. Whenever she got the opportunity, she left a message for Kakuzu with whatever dubious contact was available at the local town or outpost, keeping him apprised of the bounty's location as she went.

And she'd been at it for six weeks now, because Kakuzu was taking his sweet fucking time.

And, horribly, Takahashi had just stopped dicking around on the border of Wind Country. As far as Maddie could tell, he'd picked up a job that was taking him not just into Fire Country, but on a beeline for Leaf Village.

It was a terrible job, as far as she was concerned. Takahashi was not always within six miles of a comfortable inn, and the ones he WAS within six miles of were frequently too expensive for Maddie to justify spending the money, even though it was the beginning of winter and there was frost every morning. The foliage was dying back in this part of Fire Country, making foraging a pain in her ass. The rain dripped miserably from her nose as she trudged through the countryside, keeping Takahashi well within her range.

Maddie had spent a very long time living in the wilderness, but she'd had a permanent camp, which came with luxuries like a cute lean-to supported by trees, and a strong knowledge of where to lay her traps. Now, she tripped in the mud, viewed the towering Hashirama trees with a grim suspicion, and had to set new snares and hope for the best every bloody night.

Do you love your dad this much? she asked, every morning when she opened her eyes to grey skies, skeletal trees, numb toes and the vague sense of Takahashi's chakra signature travelling southwest, inexorably towards Leaf. This much? Like... Really? Is he this loveable?

Since the answers to these questions were up in the air, the sunk cost fallacy carried her forward.

She tried keeping herself warm with the thoughts of how many new techniques she could wheedle out of Kakuzu as payment for services rendered. Historically, he'd been pretty willing to exchange ninjutsu for her help, and while Kakuzu might not have collected techniques like Kakashi or Orochimaru, he'd been an active ninja and a ninjutsu specialist for eighty years. He knew a lot.

That particular morning, Maddie got up, brushed away the frost that had made itself at home on her bedroll — gross — and spent some time moving around and trying to get the blood back into her swollen toes. There was almost certainly a chakra circulation trick that could keep her toes warm overnight, but she didn't know it. Her snares had come up empty, so she ate some strips of dried fish and cheese and warmed up some drinking water.

She felt out Takahashi's chakra. He was still en route to Leaf.

His motives didn't make sense to Maddie. As far as she had heard, Senju Tsunade was running a tighter ship than her predecessor. And Leaf was a big village. Lots of manpower, robust systems, scary kage, you know?

It seemed like suicide.

She rubbed her face. She didn't get it and she didn't like it. But it wasn't her job to get it or like it. She was just tracking the guy. She was ten kilometres away. She was sneaky, and quiet, and probably safe, and... still kind of nervous. What was she meant to do if a Leaf-nin got to Takahashi first? Steal his body? Futilely message Kakuzu, who was likely days away? Ugh.

Because Maddie had chakra to burn, she used the incredibly chakra-inefficient corpse preservation technique on her bedroll to prevent microbial growth, then wicked all the water out of it with a little twist of water-nature chakra. It was relatively clean and bone-dry when she rolled it back up. No matter how miserable the weather was, she still had some advantages — sure, the elements worked hard, but Maddie's chakra tricks worked harder!

The frost turned to water as the sun heated the landscape (heated it infinitesimally, but still, it was above freezing) and by midmorning the terrain had turned to a slippery mix of sucking mud and wet, dead grass. She spent that day using her water-walking skills to make it over the muck, steadily following her quarry across the countryside. She didn't go far that day — he wasn't that far from Leaf Village itself now. But his stopping early at least made her hopeful that he wasn't going to go in.

Maddie paused at the familiar town of Tanzaku-gai to send another message to Kakuzu, using one of the messenger birds held by the temple to get it to another sleazy contact in the capital. (She had no particular fear that any of the monks might recognise her from her escapades five years ago. Hidan had... addressed that problem.) Despite Tsunade's depredations, the old castle had bounced back as a tourist attraction, and the owners had taken the perspective that, hey, now it was the ruin of an ancient castle destroyed by a really famous ninja! Wow! But at this time of year, the town, which was usually colourful and filled with tourists, was instead grey and brown and deserted. It was hard to get people drinking in the streets and gambling when they were freezing and ankle deep in mud, she guessed.

Maddie had received no response to any of her messages so far, and she knew Kakuzu was perfectly capable of getting her one, no matter where she was.

So she gritted her teeth and kept following.

Takahashi took her in a broad and unhappy circle around Leaf Village. She had no idea what he was doing. Was he waiting for a particular ninja to emerge so he could collect their bounty? Was he — Christ, was he communicating with the narrative black hole that was Danzo? Who knew about that, really. Shimura Danzo had made no sense to her in the original Naruto manga, and she barely remembered all of what he'd gotten up to now, but over the years she had retained only a powerful impression best summed up as 'some real fucking bullshit.'

With no news from her dad, Maddie kept on the trail. Her nerves steadily deteriorated. Eventually, she knew, she basically had to run into a Leaf ninja. And as far as she knew, there wasn't any rule against strange women with overly developed chakra systems wandering around outside the village, but... like... it didn't look great, did it?

After eight weeks, she decided she had to put an end date on this excursion before the warring sensations of anxiety, misery or boredom ended their grand melee inside her head and the victor finally killed her. She'd give it ten weeks, she decided, and she'd leave immediately if a Leaf ninja showed up to question her. She promptly dropped into a nearby village and sent Kakuzu a message letting him know this.

This message, he responded to at last. Of course.

A chakra monster of thumping black threads stumbled out of copse of evergreens at three in the morning, waking her up and scaring the piss out of her, to deliver his message.

It was one line in aggressive, old-fashioned calligraphy: Twelve weeks.

Kakuzu was, Maddie thought, really fucking pushing it.

She yanked the letter out of the monster's thready little claws and ignored the way its pulse thumped so hard she could feel it in her feet. It was the lightning heart, a thing of crackling static that made her heart beat erratically. At least that meant that he had more than one heart already — she'd given him an earth one.

Fine, she scrawled on the other side of the scrap of paper, in equally aggressive writing, and then she sent the monster packing with a glower and a wave.

It said nothing. They never did.

Twelve weeks. Three months. God. Her face scrunched up in a snarl.

Maddie watched it go, then crawled back into her bedroll in a foul temper and muttered angrily to herself about ungrateful family members instead of sleeping. In the morning, she would get up and find that her hair was a frizzy cloud from all the static.

Twelve weeks. Fine. That wasn't so much worse than ten, anyway, was it? She'd be okay. Twelve weeks.

Naturally, it was week eleven when it all went to shit.

--

"Hey," said a sweet and girlish voice. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

Maddie startled awake.

There was a ninja crouched in the mud a only a few metres away from her. She was an older teen, limbs still a little too long, and her eyes were so green that the colour was noticeable even in the moonlight. The darkness bled most of the colour out of the rest of her, but left the impression of pale but warm tones.

Maddie looked for a forehead protector. It was tied into her hair, but when Maddie shot out of her bedroll she was immediately tall enough to see — it was a Hidden Leaf symbol. Dammit.

The ninja stood up too, but she was pretty short. Maddie had half a foot on her. "Are you okay? You really shouldn't sleep here with just a bedroll, you'll freeze."

Maddie squinted at her. Green eyes. Short hair, tied up with her forehead protector. She had an apron skirt and dark shorts.

Jesus fucking Christ, thought Maddie. That's Haruno Sakura.

She had the chakra pool of a kid, and it was so controlled and placid that it didn't register as any particular affinity to her senses. This was probably why she hadn't woken Maddie from her sound sleep until she'd called out to her. Unlike almost every other ninja on the planet, this girl would almost certainly be able to disappear to Maddie's senses. How unsettling.

"I'm fine," she said, licking her lips nervously. "Thanks for your concern."

Sakura's eyebrows knit together in her forehead. "It's not healthy to let your body get so cold." Yyyeah, Maddie was pretty aware of that. But she had the advantage of being mostly comprised of chakra spaghetti, on the inside. It wasn't the same. "You should really consider going to one of the villages near here. There's one only three miles away. Do you need directions?"

"No, I don't need directions. Thank you. Sorry to put you to the trouble, shinobi-san."

Sakura rocked back on her heels. She chewed her lip. "I really think you should."

"Are you going to make me?" She almost certainly could.

"What? No, I'm not going to make you do anything." She looked offended.

"Okay."

She sighed. Fists clenched, she said, "But I advise against it. It's unsafe for you to be sleeping out here in this weather. I'm a medic, I'd know."

Maddie hummed. Clearly, despite what she said, she wasn't going to give up.

"Oh, well, if you're a medic," Maddie said, feigning a change of mind. "I guess you must know best. Where's the nearest village then?"

Smiling in relief, Sakura provided her directions: "Hitoko village is two miles due east of here. Once you get to the road, you really can't miss it."

"Great, thank you," said Maddie, who knew exactly where Hitoko was and who had ruled it out on account of the expense. With a deep sigh, she started rolling up her bedroll under Sakura's supervision.

She let her herd her all the way to the road and set her off in the right direction. Then, the very moment Sakura smiled brightly and continued on her way back to Leaf Village — was she coming back from a mission? out on a patrol? — Maddie turned right back around and went to find a new, better hidden sleeping spot.

Who knew Sakura would be so nosy and insistent?

She wondered: did this brief meeting with Sakura constitute 'being questioned' by Leaf nin? Was she permitted to pack up and go home now? She had never missed her seaside cottage so much as she did right now.

Leaf already knew about her. She didn't expect they knew very much, but she'd previously been under their surveillance as a person of interest in relation to Kakuzu, who was a big enough problem all on his own to justify that use of manpower...

She tried to imagine defending her choice to Kakuzu.

...Probably it did not count. Sakura thought she was a lost civilian, which meant she was flying well under the radar. Ugh.

At least Takahashi felt like he was sleeping peacefully, and not liable to go anywhere...

--

Maddie was startled awake less than an hour later by a gangly teenaged presence at her bedroll.

Because the moon was bright and the trees had no leaves, she could just make out how Sakura's eyebrow was twitching. Her glove creaked as her hand curled into a fist. "Aah... You know... you didn't have to lie about it..."

Clearly, thought Maddie, I did.

Great. Now how was she going to get out of this?

[bunnyhugs77]

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

-

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

--

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

--

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

--

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

-

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

-

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

-

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

-

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

[thescarletnargacuga]

CHANDELIER

A HARLEQUIN AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

Inspired by THIS

WARNING: alcohol and a bit suggestive

Caine slouched heavily in his chair as he drained an entire bottle of liquor in his mouth. The bitter liquid sloshed over his teeth, dribbled down his chest and over his exposed heart. The numbing rush of alcohol relaxed him further. He tossed the empty bottle, and it shattered against the pile of other empties. He groaned into the silence of his study as he stretched. "Finally...a good buzz." He leaned his chair back with his feet up on his desk with the intent on taking a short nap.

The door slammed open with the force of a raging bull. "CAINE!!"

He jumped and the chair fell backwards. His legs folded over his head, landing ass up. "Hello Pomni, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He was muffled from his own body weight holding down his mouth.

"You know DAMN well why I'm here!" She threw her sword unceremoniously onto his desk, it was warped and covered in strange burn marks. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SWORD!?" She was seething from every pore.

Caine struggled to right himself. He flopped over on his side and slowly climbed the desk to his knees. He blinked the haze from his eyes and focused on the heavily damaged weapon in front of him. He was pretty far gone and his memory was as clear as a foggy day at sea. "Uh....I don't know...." He answered honestly.

She grabbed him by the collar from her side of the desk and yanked him to his feet. She spoke through her teeth, her eyes promised death. "What do you mean you don't know? It didn't magically end up like this."

That sobered him up a bit. "Actually, now that you mention it, that is probably exactly how it ended up like that. I think I was tinkering and I had some ideas to improve your weapon." He chuckled nervously.

"Let me get this straight. You STOLE my sword. BROKE it. Then PUT IT BACK LIKE I WOULDN'T NOTICE!?" She was ready to start kicking him across the manor.

Caine snapped into survival mode. "POMNI, Pomni, whatever happened can be fixed, I assure you. I just need some time, alright? I don't remember anything after I started tinkering. I- uh...." He looked to the side.

Pomni's eyes followed his to the pile of broken bottles. She let go of him and he dropped to the desk top chest first. "Are you kidding me? You were drinking while working?? What is WRONG with you!?"

He stood and fixed his shirt. "A lot, my dear. But we aren't ready for that conversation." He picked up the damaged sword and examined it as best he could through his drunken stupor. He couldn't make heads or tails of what he had done, but it was bad. The sword's structural integrity was completely compromised and was barely in one piece. He put it back down and took another bottle out of the top drawer of his desk.

Pomni snatched the bottle. "What are you doing? You need to fix my sword!"

"My dear, even if I sobered up right this second, I'm afraid that sword is useless. The damage is far too extensive. I'll have to forge you a whole new one, and that will take time."

"WHAT!?!? You-! Why-! ARGH!" She tore the cork out of the bottle with her teeth and started chugging. It was either do that or kill Caine, but if she did that, she'd have no sword.

Caine breathed a sigh of relief. That was the closest he'd been to death in awhile. He brought out yet another bottle and leaned against the desk to top off his lost drunkenness.

Pomni got half way through her bottle before she took a breath. She steadied herself against the desk next to Caine, taking a few more swigs of the strong drink.

Caine set his bottle down as the alcohol poured against his heart. "I'm sorry, Pomni. I promise you'll have a new sword as soon as possible. You have my word."

Pomni scoffed. "As if your word means much."

Caine looked down. "It's...not what it used to be. Like a lot of things. But, when I say I'll do something for you, I mean it. I hope you can trust me that far."

Pomni wiped a dribble of drink from her chin. "I trust you enough to know you'll save your own skin by making me a new sword."

"...fair enough." He threw the newly emptied bottle on the pile.

A stiff silence fell between them. Pomni polished off her bottle and she started to feel lighter. The anger successfully drowned and she felt more relaxed. "You got more?" She added her bottle to the collection of the broken and empty.

Caine went to a bookshelf and pulled a huge tome from its place. He opened it to reveal two purple bottles hidden in the pages. "As if that's really a question." He smirked and handed her one as he took the other for himself. He put the large book back. "This is a special blend. My own creation. Don't let the size of bottle fool you, it packs a hell of a punch."

"Don't worry, Caine. When it comes to you, size has never mattered." She said dryly.

He dropped his bottle in his mouth, losing grip in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean??" He coughed.

Pomni laughed at his flustered reaction. "I refuse to elaborate." She threw back her drink. The liquid made her feel warm from the inside out. She swayed in place as the alcohol took effect and the world started to tilt. "God, you weren't kidding. This is....wow."

"I'm afraid that was the last in my study, but there's plenty more in the lounge." He dramatically offered his arm to her like a gentleman. "Shall I escort you, my dear?"

She shoved him away by the face. "No." She unsteadily showed herself out, Caine trailing behind.

They tore the lounge apart looking for the secret stashes Caine had hidden everywhere. Bottle after bottle, they downed everything they found until they were chasing each other around like children for each find.

"Give it to me!" Pomni tackled Caine's legs and he tripped. The bottle rolled under a lounger and they scrambled after it. Caine shoved Pomni to the side and stuck his arm under the furniture. He almost had it when Pomni grabbed his ankles and dragged him out of reach. "I said that's mine!"

"I found it first!" Caine kicked his legs free and used his cane to fish the bottle out of its hiding place. The bottle rolled over a rug and he tried to grab the corner to pull it closer but Pomni got the other end first. They tug-of-wared with the rug. Caine braced himself against a heavy table from the floor and Pomni leaned her whole body weight from a standing position. The table leg gave out, forcing Caine to let go of the rug to save himself from the falling table. Pomni stumbled backwards from her own strength. The rug whipped the bottle up into the air and it got caught in the chandelier. They both looked at the out of reach drink and then each other.

"MINE!" Pomni got to her feet quickly and starting climbing the furniture. She jumped, completely missed and belly flopped in the fountain.

Caine lost his mind with laughter. "Please, tell me that wasn't your plan? You're better than that."

Pomni gave Caine a dirty look as she rolled out of the fountain, soaked, and drunkenly ran at the wall. She did a perfect wall jump entirely by chance and grabbed the bottom of the chandelier. "Wooo!" She cheered as she swung.

Caine climbed on a ornate dresser, getting himself just within reach of Pomni's legs. "Hold tight!" He grabbed on and started climbing her.

"Wha- HEY!" She tried to shake him off without letting go of the chandelier. She couldn't make that wall jump twice in a row if she tried.

"Hold still! You're making this difficult!" He used what little focus he had left to keep his grip on her respectful. Her wet clothes clung to her figure and he did his best to imagine he was just climbing a weird screaming rope.

"YOU'RE the one making this difficult! I can't climb up with you holding me down! Let go!" Her grip held fast but she couldn't hold it forever.

"Give me a minute, woman! You're so impatient!" He wrapped his legs around her waist to free his arms and reach the chandelier himself. Pomni was too focused on her target to really think about the position they were in. Caine released his leg lock on her when he had a good hold on the chandelier. "There. Better?"

"Much." She kicked him.

"OW! Why!?" He angled his hips away from her keep his groin clear of her wrath.

"A lot of reasons, but mostly because I felt like it." She started hoisting herself up.

Caine struggled from his position. The swinging of the chandelier mixed with the copious amount of drink he had that day made him feel dizzy.

Pomni stood on the chandelier, holding onto the chain connected to the ceiling for balance, and claimed her prize. "Yes!" She held the bottle up, victorious. "I told you it was mine!" She started swinging the chandelier, watching Caine struggle to hold on. "Having fun down there!?"

Caine narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh yeah? You wanna swing!? Let's SWING!" He fought through the dizziness out of pure spite and swung his legs with the chandelier, making it arc higher and higher until it was apexing mere inches from the ceiling.

Pomni held tight but her own drunken state made balancing on a violently swinging pendulum nearly impossible. She slipped and her legs caught as she hung outside down in front of Caine. She still held onto the bottle.

Caine kicked off the ceiling when the chandelier swung to the highest point, pushing them down even faster. The force of the swing sent the chandelier crashing into the ceiling on the other side. Caine used the momentum to grab the bottle and fall away from Pomni. She watched in shock as she swung away with the chandelier, legs still stuck. He blew her a kiss goodbye and fell back first into the fountain with her bottle.

Pomni frantically tried to free herself. Her legs were stuck tight but she managed to wiggle them free as the chandelier swung back around towards Caine.

Caine pulled himself out of the fountain. Drenched and disheveled, he sat on the edge with his prize. "Finally-" He was tackled from above by the mistle that was Pomni. They both went into the fountain again. The water wasn't deep but it was enough to submerge in when laying down. They thrashed like angry sharks as they both had a hold on the bottle and wrestled wet tooth and nail to keep it.

Caine managed to stand up again, trying to pull the bottle from Pomni but she used his force against him. She lunged forward, pushing him off balance and over the edge of the fountain. She kept her hold on the bottle so she fell with him. Caine laid out on the floor with his arms over his head, his hands held down under the bottle and Pomni. She straddled his waist to keep him from rolling away. Caine couldn't move but still had grip on the bottle. Pomni had Caine immobilized because she held the bottle down on him, she couldn't move either or he'd get away.

"It seems...we're at...a stalemate." Caine gasped.

"Yeah...again." Pomni was just as out of breath.

Caine gave a breathy chuckle. "We really need to stop meeting like this." He looked up at her with a smile. He wasn't going to complain in the slightest about how the fight ended.

Pomni got a mischievous glint in her eye and leaned forward. Her face inches from his. "Why? Sick of me already?"

His eyes widened and he felt the heat in his chest rush to his face. He couldn't stop himself from stealing a glance at her lips. "Never. I-..." He stopped himself. He shouldn't say it. He was drunk, not stupid. Pomni leaned closer. Now only a whisper away, if he moved even a centimeter, he'd touch her. He felt her boozed breath on his gums.

"You what? What's on that clever mind of yours?" Her voice was a sultry whisper that sent shivers down Caine's entire being. The heat is his face decreased in favor of being elsewhere in that moment. He lost himself in her eyes, she was rarely this close to him without trying to also kill him.

"I...I-" He couldn't get more that out before Pomni was gone. She snatched the bottle from his loosened grip and rolled away from him. Caine laid there stunned over what just happened.

Pomni popped the cork, dropped herself on the nearest comfortable surface and took a victory swig.

"That vixen." Caine muttered under his breath. He couldn't believe it. She'd successfully used a mind game against him. He was both incredibly proud and ashamed that it worked. He sat up and gave her a slow clap. "Well done. Very well done, my dear. You've earned that drink."

She held the bottle up to him in salute. "You put up a hell of a fight for it. Is this your last one or something?"

"Nope." He hit his elbow against the base of the fountain and another compartment opened to reveal several more bottles. He took one and poured a small amount over his tongue.

Pomni gaped. She shouldn't be surprised, but that made her question how many hidden spots there had to be all over the manor if there were this many just in the lounge. She looked around, taking in the damage they did to the room. From the hole in the ceiling where the chandelier crashed into it to the broken furniture to the soaked floor around the fountain. "Ragatha's gonna have a cow when she sees this."

Caine shrugged. "She'll get over it. It's just stuff. Stuff can be fixed."

"Unlike us." Pomni sighed and leaned her head back.

"Hey now, don't start depression spiraling on me." Caine went to her and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled forward into him as she found her footing. He had one hand on her, one on a bottle. "I think there's plenty more trouble we could get ourselves into. This is supposed to be freeing, my dear."

"It has been. I managed to kick your ass didn't I?" She grinned.

"Only because you resorted to low dirty tactics." He grumbled

She looked at him smugly. "You enjoyed it."

"Did not."

"Do I have your word on that?" She smirked.

His words caught in his throat.

Pomni chuckled. "Thought so."

"You're going to be the death of me." Caine resigned.

They stumbled off together to find entertainment elsewhere, arms over each other. After they left the room, the damaged chandelier finally came loose from the ceiling and crashed to the floor.

[messiahzzz]

while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Jumping on the headcanons bandwagon: do you have any for professor Sharp? Love your work, this is one of my favourite blogs.

A/N: I'm happy you enjoy my work 😌 💕

AESOP SHARP HEADCANONS

Sorted to Slytherin

Quiet and reserved, but not shy, just heavily introverted

He was a quick study of DADA, charms and potions; top of the class

Struggled with transfiguration, a bit too technical for his liking

Always wanted to be an auror, most of his family members were

Had one best friend in school, they both strived to be aurors

Never had a girlfriend in school; he didn't understand the romantic obsession some teenagers had, he likes his alone time

Graduated with high marks and went straight to auror training

It was his mentor that taught him "Shortcuts only lead to shortcomings"

This is where his lack of interpersonal skills hurt him; he could track and fight dark wizards till the stars themselves fell, but calm a distraught person over the death of a loved one? ....nope. awkward as hell.

And office politics at the Ministry? Actual hell. Hated the lot of them.

Except one

A young secretary working for one of the higher ups, she was one of the few people he could stand to be around without losing his mind

He found himself making excuses to go see her or finding the most mundane reasons to go talk to her

His best friend turned work partner knew right away what was happening, would tease him endlessly about it

She made the first move to go on a date; nothing fancy, just a casual lunch date

They never made it back to work from talking for so long

Both of them got writeups but didn't care

He knew within months of knowing her that he wanted to marry her

He proposed privately in his family's garden, just them and the spring butterflies

He was on top of the world; being one of the best aurors the Ministry had and about to marry the love of his life

....but we all know it doesn't end that way

December 31, 1875

He and his partner were ambushed while on assignment

His partner, his best friend, dies

Death curse to the chest, his eyes frozen wide with surprise

Aesop fights off a total of 35 dark wizards single handedly, being critically injured in the process

He holds his fallen partner as he uses the last of his strength to apparate to St. Mungo's

He passed out on the street in front of the hidden hospital where he is found by staff

He sleeps for days in the hospital, his fiance staying with him as long as she can every day

When he wakes up, he's silent

Even when he looks at his lover, his eyes are dark and hollow

The healers did what they could for him but the damage his body took from the curses would leave him with chronic pain and a limp for the rest of his life

He struggles to walk out of St. Mungo's but refuses to use a cane; pride won't let him

His injuries result in his medical discharge from being an auror, his response is anger

His grief over the list of his partner and career sent him down a dark spiral of self destruction

He becomes belligerent, aggressively arguing with everyone over anything about his condition (mentally or physically)

He drinks to numb the pain

That only makes things worse

Any money he had for a wedding is slowly squandered away by drink

Hangovers made him even more insufferable

He refused to talk to anyone about the night of his friend's death, even his fiance

He didn't even go to his friends service, it made things too final and he wasn't ready to accept his friend's death

His behavior eventually led to a fight with his fiance, a big one

She left the ring on the table

He never saw her again

He was alone

Weeks later a familiar face came knocking, his mentor

His mentor gave him the talk he needed to hear

There where shouts of anger until tears of sorrow flowed

He broke and finally accepted that he was in a bad place

Everything he had was gone and he needed to let himself greive

Even after he finally took the time to take care of himself, he still didn't know what to do next until Hogwarts needed a new potions professor

He could try that

Teach kids...not his first choice but he wasn't doing anything else with his life at the time

Worst case scenario, he quits

Turns out he loves it. as much as teaching comes with its own stresses, watching them figure out and admire a well earned accomplishment makes it all worth it

In his time at Hogwarts, he's tried contacting his lost love to no avail

It's one of his deepest regrets, pushing her away

He's well settled as a professor and living life one day at a time

[minecraftbookshelf]

Life Series Scarring Headcanons: Part 1

I'm going in alphabetical order by player handle, so this one is BDoubleo100, Bigbst4tz2, Ethoslab, and GoodTimesWithScar

The concept at hand is that during each game, every death leaves a scar, after the game, those are gone, replaced with scarring from their final death.

I did take some creative licence with the deaths, mostly in the sense of figuring out ways to handle Fall Damage in a slightly more RL based context, as well as figuring out approximately where final blows would fall based on the respective positioning of the players in question. (I did both a lot of video watching and also pointing at and posing myself figuring this out.)

Related to that Content Warning for general blunt but vague descriptions of varying injuries and ways to die, including but not limited to shattered bones and impaling.

Disclaimer that I did make all these diagrams in paint so they are hardly the pinnacle of artistic reference, but I think it gets the point across. Xs indicate arrow kills and i used the spray paint mode for fire/lava/explosion damage. All scars are color coded by series.

I forgot to mark it on the diagrams themselves, but light green is for scars left from the death of the Double Life soulbond partner. The soulmate who died second has phantom scars from their partners death, fainter and sometimes smaller, but still there.

Pink scars are the ones that, while not final deaths, had a significant impact on the story, the cubito, or both.

This project has also has shown some interesting patterns in how some of them tend to die.

On with the show!

BDubs

Third Life: Scar chased BDubs down and killed him with his sword before heading off with Grian to have Their Moment at the cactus ring. He turned around to fight Scar at the last minute, so the killing blow came from the front.

Last Life: BDubs was shot and killed by Grian as he fled after he betrayed the Red Pack and killed Lizzie so that Etho would give him a life.

Double Life: Pearl chased BDubs down and killed him (I believe with an axe) after Tilly died. Like in Third Life, he turned and fought at the last minute, so the killing blow came from the front.

Limited Life: Bdubs' final death was from a TNT Minecart dropped by Impulse, it landed slightly above and to the right of him, so that is where the damage is localized.

BigB

(You see what I mean about trends in the way that some of them tend to die?)

Third Life: BDubs shot him as BigB, the last surviving member of the Red Army, tried to escape from him and the Desert Duo. I placed that scar a bit lower than the others because BDubs is short.

Last Life: Cleo shot and killed him in a river. He was also poisoned from a potion she threw in the skirmish prior, so his health was very low. Reflecting that, my choice for that arrow was that it skimmed the side of his neck and he probably would have survived it had he been in better health at the time.

Double Life: Grian dropped a dripstone stalactite on Ren's head in Box, killing both Ren and BigB. His scar from this is a bit smaller and fainter than Ren's due to Ren being the one to actually receive the injury.

Limited Life: Smajor shot and killed him while he tried to escape through the woods. From what I can tell Scott came at him from the side, so I put the scar for that one reflecting it.

Etho

Believe it or not this is not the worst that it gets.

Third Life: Etho died to fire damage dealt by Impulse during the Battle of Dogwarts. I chose the location for it based of the direction the attack that initially caught him on fire came from.

Last Life: Joel killed Etho before dying himself when the later-game red lifers banded together to take out him and Grian. Etho struggled with his shield during that confrontation, which let Joel get enough hits in to kill him before being killed immediately after by Scott. I placed that injury as a glancing blow off the top rim of his shield.

Double Life: Etho and Joel died to a lava-trapped nether portal. The scars are from the lava flow. Etho died first, so his scars are a bit more prominent than Joel's.

Limited Life: Etho (like so, so many other people this season) died to fall damage. He was fighting the Mean Gills on the edge of the Bad Boy Manor and fell. The "camera angle" of the ground as he fell is pretty much how i decided where the impact probably was.

Scar

Third Life: I deviated a bit here because for everything else I really just went with "this was the final straw that broke the camels back" when picking scars, but I feel like the narrative and character significance of the Cactus Ring excuses the Death By A Thousand Cuts look. The heaviest concentration of scars from the ring are on his knuckles (from hitting), forearms (from blocking) and back and the side of his face (where he fell into the cacti).These are all small, relatively faint scars, there are just. A lot of them. EDIT: He's going to have some lasting explosion scars from the creeper Grian killed him with as soon as I have the opportunity to update the diagram.

Last Life: He was shot by Ren in a skirmish in the woods, that's genuinely all I have to say about that one, sorry. I decided it was a really good shot on Ren's part that got him right in the eye.

Double Life: So, sonic booms don't really...leave marks. They just liquidize your internal organs. I do think though that he and Grian probably have some faint mark approximating the center of their torsos. Because magic. And Lore.

Limited Life: Grian stabbed him in the back and then chased him down and killed him. The infamous "ultimate betrayal" because someone forgot that they were technically only barely endgame allies this season. Because Grian is incapable both of not killing Scar and not being dramatic about it.

-

Part 2

(There are five posts in this series in total, each of them will have links to the first one, as well as the one preceding and the one coming after)

[xxsabitoxx]

I Still Do It Better {Teaser}

<Obanai x Mitsuri x Fem! Reader>

<Sequel to I Can Do It Better>

Warnings: the full fic will have a proper set of warnings

A/N: I’ve received so many requests for a sequel and a few months back I finally got around to it. Then I took my hiatus and returned to realize I didn’t like where past me was taking this sequel… so I scrapped it. Now, over a year after posting the initial fic, here is a proper teaser for the second part

You sunk lower in the water, not stopping until it reached just below your nose. You couldn’t believe yourself, betrayed by your own thoughts several times while trying to go about your day to day life. You had no concept of how to bring it up again, the physical reminders left on your skin wouldn’t let you forget. Yet, part of you was aching for more, not quite satisfied with the marks that remained. You wanted more, from both parties.

But above all else, you wanted to prove your worth. You wanted to convince Obanai you were worthy of his cum. Your legs kicked in the water, eyes squeezing shut as you came to the conclusion that you’d simply be plagued with these thoughts until you did something about them. Laying alone in your bed after had been the worst part. Having to drag yourself from their warm home and back to your empty quiet one felt like a death sentence.

“You really don’t have to leave just yet.” Mitsuri was worrying around you, fixing your hair neatly after you refused the offer of a bath. You wanted to wash your skin yourself, not create some fantasy that you’d stay here forever. “I’m fine, really Mitsuri. I need to get back in case I’m summoned for a mission.” You waved her off, thanking her quietly after she finished your hair. “Are you sure? You really don’t want to stay longer? We wouldn’t mind.”

Obanai didn’t interject, instead he remained quiet as he began wrapping his face once more on the far side of the room. He had been awfully quiet since waking up, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like you were used to. “I appreciate the offer. I truly do. But I have to get back to my own home.” Your hands fidgeted in your lap, moving to stand with a slight limp. “You can’t even walk properly, please stay. Let us help you… it’s the least we could do.”

You felt warmth spread across your face, especially since you caught Obanai chuckling softly. “Mitsuri please, if she wants to leave, let her leave.” You didn’t want to leave, but you knew if you stayed you’d fall in deep and never recover. Little did you know the damage was already done. “Alright… but if you need us, you know where to find us.” Mitsuri’s hands fell to her kimono, fidgeting because she couldn’t quite figure out how to say goodbye.

It was a one time thing, there were no strings attached from it. At least that’s what you told yourself as you bowed to them, stepping off their front porch and heading back the way you had come. It was a one time thing, nothing more. It repeated like a mantra as you limped back, face holding on to the embarrassed warmth as you tried your damn hardest to not look like you had just got your ass handed to you. “Damn him.”

You pushed yourself up, the bath water sloshing dangerously close to the edge. “What the hell am I going to do?” you whined to no one, your voice bouncing off the walls and right back at you. It felt like you were being taunted at this point, like the universe was waiting to see how long you would take to crack. You had to wonder what would happen if you just gave in. What if you just dragged your sorry ass back to their estate and begged for a second round… a rematch.

[thewisaaaaad]

alright, I have added plenty to the au already

SO LETS ADD SOME MORE

The Captains each have their own stronghold, an island that they have fortified with their power, and where they hide from the sea that they believe seeks to swallow them whole. At this point, they only send out illusions made of Ichor to communicate with their forces at sea, as they all believe that narinder seeks their deaths after the battle he lost. They are right to fear his vengeance, but for the entirely wrong reasons.

Each stronghold his vastly different from the next;

Leshy made his home in a wild jungle, only made wilder with the louse's presence. The trees themselves thirst for blood, vines hang down that seek necks to strangle, and the grass is as sharp as an army's armory. His disciples wield spears, their faces hidden by masks of wood that change as readily as the wind.

Once, Leshy had been a swabbie, the newest recruit. His lust for adventure and discovery was matched only by Narinders own. They were like brothers, once. And Leshy had always known how to cheer anyone up, god or mortal.

Heket claimed a island that had been entirely razed to the ground by an angry god, now made a paradise of fertile ground and glorious harvest. The crops are so ripe, if you harvest them carelessly they will explode, while mushrooms constantly deal with excess growth. Her faithful care greatly for their crew, marking their flesh to represent the family they belong to. To harm one of her crew is to declare war with Heket herself. If you failed them, however, you could end up in the pot for tonights dinner. And the bar for failure was very low.

A long time ago, she was the best cook in the land. She would feed entire communities, often at great expense to herself. Her rapid regenerative abilities as a god only ensured that frog stew was always on the menu. She always kept the needs of the family well above herself on the list of priorities.

Kalamar has the least fear of the depths, for he can swim and breathe down there, but calmed a land-locked defensive position regardless. His city sits upon a massive dead coral forest, the pale animals forming razor sharp supports for the houses and bridges that cling to their branches. His deckhands perform heinous experiments to further his knowledge of the mortal body- and how best to inflict pain.

Ages past, he was a struggling doctor, trying to save as many lives as he could. His repeated failures often shredded his self confidence, but Narinder was always there to help him back on his feet. Eventually, he became the best doctor in the land, using his godhood to identify exactly what was wrong with a patient and to provide the best aid he could.

Shamura entrenched themselves on a barren island, building a true fortress library of stone and magic. But as the years went on, the damage to their skull seemed to slowly distort their perception of reality, each successive floor of the fortress becoming more twisted and eerie as it goes up. The tower stretches high into the sky, bending this way and that, appearing to take a different path up each time you look at it. Littered with traps and lost knowledge, the upper levels are off limits to even Shamuras own first mate and fellow seeker of knowledge, Allocer.

Shamura had been the one to gather them all together. Shamura had been the one to call them all family. They came up with the code, allowing each of the Captains to add their own piece to the rules that all of the Old Crew would follow.

Why did it end up like this?

It was his own fault, wasn't it. Narinder had wounded them. Scared them. They did all those horrible things, mimicking the gods they had replaced because of HIM. He had attacked them when he was bored, so he supposed he was no better than them.

It would probably be better when he was gone, too.

[topguncortez]

Bad Medicine | Chapter 4

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: drugs, guns, stripping, violence, abuse, fighting, prostitution, blood, alcohol usage, mentions of sexual assault, torture, death, cops, stalking. mentions of suicide, mentions of past physical abuse, scars, burns, violence, waterboarding, abuse, mentions of death, language.

She was hoping it was a dream when she woke up. That the last 48 hours were some sick twisted torture method her own brain came up with. But when Y/N woke up in that dark bedroom with the large painting of Jake “Hangman” Seresin staring back at her, she wished she was dead. She sobbed when she saw herself in the mirror. She had a small, dark bruise on her chin from where Jake grabbed her, another on her cheek from getting slapped and a very faint scar forming from the knife against her throat. Her eyes scanned over the scars that already littered her body. The puffy, pink burn mark on her ribs stood out the most. That was the one she was most ashamed of. Every once in a while, she could feel the phantom pain of the white hot branding iron against her skin. 

Y/N bit her lip as she gripped the sides of the sink, and bowed her head letting the tears fall onto the tile floor. She had told herself after Francisco she would never let another man lay a hand on her, and now here she was, letting some Mafia wannabe smack her around. This time, she had no control over it. She didn’t do it to herself, she didn’t go find Jake or the other men at the club and invite them into her home. No, her father did this. Her father was the cause of her pain, once again. 

Y/N heard the door to the bedroom open and the soft clack of shoes. She looked around the bathroom, looking for something to protect herself with, her eyes landing on a pair of hair cutting scissors. She grabbed them in her hand and hid behind the linen closet door. She held her hand over her mouth to silence her shaky breathing as the footsteps grew closer. She was like a feral animal, ready to attack anything and everything who would hurt her without repercussions. Looking down she noticed that the shoes were black leather snakeskin boots, and knew who they belonged to. 

“Y/N?” Bob called out as he entered the bedroom. She listened as he cautiously walked closer, crossing the threshold into the bathroom. She held her breath and could see from the crack in the door as Bob looked around the bathroom. He paused, his head cocked a bit to the side as he listened. He knew she was in here. Y/N closed her eyes, and released a slow, quiet breath to calm her heart rate. When she opened her eyes, Bob was gone. 

Very carefully, she pushed the linen closet door open more, and stepped out to look around to see if the coast was clear. She felt a bit braver and took a complete step out of the closet, seeing no sign of the man who was just here. Y/N let out a shaky breath and lowered the scissors, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Quickly, Y/N jumped and raised the scissors to attack. 

“Y/N! It’s me!” Bob exclaimed, raising his hands in defense, but that didn’t stop her from charging at him, ready to stab him in the neck, “What the fuck!” Bob yelled, taking control of Y/N, grabbing her wrists to keep her from penetrating the scissors into his skin. 

Rooster had been right behind Bob, and stepped in quickly as Bob wrestled to get Y/N to the ground. Rooster took the black scissors out of her hand, as Bob tackled her to the floor, straddling her hips and holding her wrists down, “Quit fucking moving!” 

“No!” Y/N yelled and spat at him. Bob groaned and backhanded her. Her head thrashed to the side from the force and she spit out light pink blood from her mouth. Bob took a shaky breath as he pushed himself off of her. He hated having to use violence against someone. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Bob said and held his hand out to her, but she scurried away from him, running her back into the bathtub, “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” He spoke, holding his hands up to her. He approached her gently, like he would a scared dog. He knelt down to her level, still holding his hands up, “I wanted to see if you were okay. . . after last night.”

“No! I’m not fucking okay!” Y/N yelled, “I want to go home!” 

“We can’t let you do that,” Rooster said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Y/N looked up at him, but he avoided looking into her eyes. Rooster might give off the impression of being a cold blooded killer, but that man was nothing but soft, “He wants you to come and eat. And no, we can’t just bring food to you, he actually wants to see you eat.” 

Y/N looked between the two men, before nodding softly. Bob crept closer, trying to help her up, but she smacked his hands away. She pushed herself up from the floor, she looked at herself in the mirror and frowned at her appearance. She wore just a baggy t-shirt and some cotton shorts she had stolen from her brother. Her hair was all over the place and the bruises stood out against her reddened cheeks. 

“Can I clean myself up?” She asked softly. 

“Later,” Bob said, “He’s pissed you’re late.” 

Y/N followed Bob out of the room, Rooster following behind her. She felt like a prisoner, all she was missing was the orange jumpsuit and shackles on her ankles and wrists. The maids and butlers didn’t dare to look at her or Rooster as they walked by, but they all greeted Bob. Y/N found that funny since Rooster was yet to hit her, and both Jake and Bob have. She looked over her shoulder at Rooster. There was more to him than just meets the eye. The scars on his face had a story to them, and she was determined to know. 

“Keep fucking staring at me, and I’ll gouge your eyes out,” Rooster threatened and Y/N quickly looked away. She looked over the staircase and noticed how far the drop was. She made a mental note, it was a long way down, but the balcony outside her room would cause more damage. 

Bob led them into the main dining room. Jake was already seated at the head of the table and looked up briefly as they walked in. The table was full of breakfast foods and Emile was still bringing more out. There was no way these boys could eat all that food, but then again Y/N has watched her brothers finish off a five course meal without leaving a crumb behind. 

“Here,” Rooster said and pulled a chair out for Y/N. She nodded and sat down, and Rooster pushed the chair in. Emile smiled and placed a plate with a blueberry muffin and scrambled eggs on it in front of Y/N. She smiled shyly at the woman in thanks. 

“I didn’t get to properly introduce myself last night,” Y/N looked up and jumped at the sight of the man from last night who held a gun to her head. In the daylight, he didn’t look nearly as terrifying. His skin looked soft and warm. His smile was one of friendliness, not like Jake’s, “I’m Javy or Coyote.” Y/N opened her mouth to introduce herself as well when Jake spoke. 

“He already knows who you are.” 

She gave Javy a tight lipped smile and nodded. Y/N picked up the muffin and started to peel the wrapper off. She subtly looked up at Jake, who was reading something on his iPad, and took in his features. There was a small scar above his eyebrow on the right side. Jake let out a groan and Y/N quickly averted her eyes back to her plate. No one at the table seemed to be concerned as Jake grunted again, and let out a shaky breath. Y/N looked at him with caution as he pushed his chair back and a young girl crawled out from under the table. 

“Really? At the table?” Bob groaned, as Jake fixed himself. 

“Good morning brothers,” Jake smiled and kissed the girl, “Get lost.” 

“W-what?” 

“Leave,” Jake demanded. The girl could only protest as a guard came and grabbed her, taking her out of the house, “She hasn’t offed herself yet?” 

“Nope, just trying to kill us,” Rooster said, shoving his face full of a muffin, “I thought you took the scissors out of there.”

“Trying to see if she was as smart as she claims to be,” Jake shrugged and sat back down in his chair, “I got shit for you to do today,” He spoke to Y/N, who looked up from the muffin she had barely touched in her hand, “Eat.” 

She shook her head, her appetite was now gone, “I-I’m n-not-” 

“It wasn’t a fucking suggestion,” Jake rolled his eyes,  “Eat. Or I’ll chain you up and have someone spoon feed you like you’re a child.” 

Y/N nodded and picked up her fork, pushing around the food on her plate. Her appetite had disappeared the moment she watched Jake stab the poor guy in the basement last night. This was her defense mechanism, she would shut down to being barely alive and functional. She had seen her mother do it, eating less, sleeping more, drowning everything with alcohol. Hell, Y/N had done it for most of her relationship with Francisco. 

She could feel Jake’s stare on her, and could feel the anger grow in his eyes as he stared at her. Bob looked over at the girl and then over at his boss. Jake looked up and caught his friend’s glare, and Bob shook his head. He knew what Jake was about to do. Jake was a creature of habit and short circuits. Jake slammed his iPad on the table and marched over to Y/N. She quickly grabbed the fork that was placed next to her and stood up from the chair. She placed her arm in front of her to block him and held the fork up. 

Jake smirked and cocked his head to the side, “What are you going to do with that sweetheart.” 

She didn’t hear Rooster move behind her, and wrapped his arms under her armpits, making her drop the fork. She struggled against his large frame and strong grip. Bob leaned over from his chair and picked up the fork and set it on the table. 

“Let me fucking go!” Y/N yelled. 

“Hold her still,” Jake said and grabbed the pitcher of water from the table. Rooster grunted as he tightened his hold on Y/N’s arms. 

Jake grabbed her chin, digging his fingers into her jaw making her open her mouth, and poured the whole pitcher of water down her throat. Y/N gagged and tried to move her head but couldn’t against Rooster and Jake’s grip on her. Bob looked down at his plate trying his best to block out the choking sounds. She coughed loudly as she caught her breath when Jake set the empty pitcher down. Rooster felt her body sag in her arms and if it wasn’t for him holding her she would’ve crashed to the ground. Jake lifted her chin again, making her look him in the eye. 

“You fucking listen. This shit will be really easy, if you just fucking listen,” Jake said and Y/N clenched her jaw. Jake looked from her eyes to her lips and chuckled, “Oh we’re gonna have a great time being married.” 

“Yeah, if i don’t kill you first,” Y/N mumbled. 

“Can’t wait to see you try, sweetheart,” Jake gave her a wink. He grabbed his iPad and walked back down to his office. Rooster let her go, and walked wordlessly down the same path Jake did. Bob was the only one who looked at Y/N, as she sat at the table, tears running down her face as she ate what was on her plate. 

Y/N looked up at Bob, his ocean blue eyes were soft. He felt bad for her. She was a prisoner here as much as he was. Bob hated Jake’s rule. He wanted to go explore and be on his own. Bob had had a taste of freedom once, that was until Jake totally lost it. Bob had been on his way to starting a successful career in the Navy, he was days away from getting his promotion to captain when Jake had lost Natasha. Jake had pulled Bob out of the Navy and demanded that he stay in San Diego and help him track down who had exposed her. Bob had been in Y/N’s spot, crying at the table as he ate. He had locked himself in his room and contemplated swinging his legs over the balcony once or twice. 

“You have an appointment to look at wedding dresses,” Bob said, “Your father set it up.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Y/N said softly. 

“Y/N-” 

She shook her head. Y/N had dreamed of her wedding for as long as she could remember. Back then, she dreamed of getting married to Prince Harry at Westminster Abbey. She had everything planned out down to which guests would sit at what table. The whole while she planned, Sophie and her mother were right by her side. It wasn’t the Bobe without either one, but if she had to decide, she would want Sophie with her. 

Y/N looked down at her hands and then slowly up at Bob. Jake had told her Bob was able to track people. A lightbulb went off in her head and her eyes grew wide as she stood up from the table and over to him.

“I need you to track someone for me,” Y/N said. 

“W-who?” Bob asked, a nervous shiver ran down his spine. 

“Sophie Dubois,” Y/N said softly, “She’s my best friend. She’s studying in Greece, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of her. Jake threw my phone away, I need you to get a hold of her, Bob, please.” 

Bob looked into her eyes. The tear stains and bruises on her face were enough to make Bob’s heart want to break. But also knowing that Jake would not only beat him but more than likely Y/N up too, was enough to tell Bob to tell her no. Jake wasn’t usually one for violence against women, but he would shake them up enough to teach them a lesson. Bob had seen him rough up a few whores and drug dealers old ladies to know Jake wasn’t scared to get his hands bloody. Bob knew that Sophie was missing but trusted that the Santiago brothers were looking for her. But he also knew, he could probably find her faster than anyone else could. Bob took a deep breath and looked around the dark painted dining room and then over to the corner, where he knew Jake had placed a camera. 

“I can’t help you,” Bob said and pointed to his left shoulder. Y/N looked at him confused and he took a deep breath pointing to his shoulder again. Y/N’s eyes slowly wandered up to the corner behind Bob’s head. She took a breath and nodded, “I’m sorry. But it’s for your own protection. Jake will hurt you and me if he knows I tried to help you.” 

Y/N nodded and stepped around Bob, heading back up to her room. Bob waited a second, before grabbing a napkin and writing something down. He placed his body in a way to hide what he was writing from the cameras. He walked quickly, keeping his head down, taking the stairs two at a time. He looked down the hall before slipping the napkin under her door. Y/N was waiting with her back pressed against the door as the napkin slipped under the door. 

‘Write down her name, age, birthdate, phone number, home address and last known address. Write everything in the bathtub, sit close to the wall and turn your body to the right to face the window. The cameras won’t pick up on it. Leave it under the loose floorboard in the right corner of the closet. I’ll do what I can. If you get caught. . . I had nothing to do with it.’

Y/N smiled down at the note written in messy scribbles. It was the one good thing to come in the past forty-eight hours. She pushed off the door and over to her backpack she was yet to unpack. She dug through it and pulled up a beat up college ruled notebook. She smiled at the zebra and turquoise duct taped cover. The pages were stiff and it was like looking through an old book. The handwriting had faded over the years and the pictures were starting to fall from the adhesive on them drying. She found a random page, the page with a picture of a twelve year-old Y/N and a picture of Prince Harry on it, and stuffed the napkin in it. She closed the notebook and stuffed it under her mattress. 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

How Javy and Rooster got stuck taking Y/N to go try on wedding dresses was beyond either of their knowledge. Jake had demanded that Rooster go as a guard for her and Javy to stop her from spending all their money. Jake needed Bob at the house to do more digging into Dante Soto and the Soto street gang. Javy wanted to stab his eyes out at all the white he was surrounded by. Rooster was actually a good help, pulling out dresses that caught his eye. Reuben had also tagged along, giving some sort of familiar comfort. 

Y/N had a dress in mind that she wanted. She had drawn something up herself, the perfect combination of Princess Kate’s and Amal Clooney’s dresses. Her hands pulled at the delicate white dresses, scanning each of them up and down. She had pulled a couple out to try on, but she wasn’t dead set on one yet. 

“What about this one?” Rooster asked, pulling out an off white dress that was covered in lace. 

“Too. . . basic,” Y/N said, and her eyes fell on the perfect dress, “This one.” 

Javy rolled his eyes hearing the words leave her mouth. She had said that about the last three she had added to her try-on pile. He looked over at Reuben, who was reading some book, not paying an ounce of attention to what was going on. Javy wished he could be that unbothered, a part of him secretly wanted to see what dress she would end up picking. Rooster sighed as he sat down next to them on the couch as Y/N went to go try on the dresses. 

“Are we almost done?” Javy asked Rooster.

“Probably not,” Rooster sighed. 

“How are you so good at this?” 

“My mom owned a dress shop before she kicked it,” Rooster shrugged, “She’s calling for you.” 

“Why me?” Javy asked, standing up from the couch. 

“You haven’t tried to kill her.” 

“I put a gun to her head.” 

“She didn’t know your name then,” Rooster said, “Besides, you were shaking like a bitch holding the gun the whole time.” 

Javy grumbled something under his breath as he got up and knocked softly on the dressing room she was in. Y/N opened the door slowly, and let Javy in. He walked into the room and crossed his arms over his chest as she was holding the dress on her body. 

“Yes?” He asked her. 

“I-I need you to tie it,” Y/N said softly. 

Javy groaned, “Fine. Turn around.” Y/N turned around and he stepped behind her. 

He looked in the mirror and his breath caught in his throat. She was stunning. The dress was fitted, and fit her body perfectly, showing off the curves she had. She had tied her hair back in a low messy bun, letting some stands fall down on her shoulders and frame her face. The dress was strapless with a heart shaped neckline, showing off her tanned neck and collarbones. Javy suddenly felt very jealous of his friend. Gorgeous women seemed to fall at his feet.

“Javy?” 

“Oh, yeah sorry,” Javy said and looked at the back of the dress, “It’s a corset?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly, “Something traditional, ya know.” 

Jay sucked in a breath as his fingers grabbed the white ribbon on the sides of the dress. He laced it through the eyelets and pulled, causing Y/N to suck in a breath. He had to control his own breathing, as he felt himself start to stir a bit in his pants. The little sighs she was letting out of her pink lips weren’t helping Javy’s situation either. He had to hold himself back from placing a soft kiss on her neck as he finished lacing up her dress. 

“Done,” He whispered out, and Y/N looked over her shoulder at him, “It’s nice. Not my favorite, though.” 

“Which one is?” Y/N asked him. 

“Try them all on, and I’ll tell you, princess,” Javy said as he opened the door and walked back out to the couches where Rooster and Payback sat. 

Y/N took a deep breath, looking at herself in the mirror. It felt odd trying on wedding dresses again. The last time she had been in this predicament, she was marrying the person she had thought she loved. Her mother and best friend were sitting outside the dressing room door, waiting for the breathtaking moment of when she found the dress. Instead it was two strangers and her bodyguard. She looked down at the mocking white dress. She felt like such a liar in it. 

White is the color of innocence. And she was anything but innocent. She was damaged, a sinner. The things she had done had earned her a one way ticket straight to hell. No amount of time on her knees in front of the altar would fix what was already done, or save her soul, if she even had a soul. Y/N had learned to hate the color white. White was hard to clean blood stains out of. 

“Okay,” Y/N said, and pulled back the curtain of the dressing room, “What do you think?” She asked them. 

Rooster tapped his pointer finger against his chin, “I don’t like it.” 

“Thanks, Rooster,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Javy, already got your opinion. Reuben?” 

“You look good,” Reuben shrugged. He looked at the girl. Her eyes were screaming that she didn’t want to be there anymore than they wanted to, “Why not your mother’s dress?” 

“That old fucking thing,” Y/N scoffed, “I don’t even know where it-” 

“Paulo threw it in one of your suitcases.” 

“So we are just wasting our time here is what I am hearing,” Javy spoke up and Y/N shook her head. 

“No, we’re not.” Y/N said and stepped back into the dressing room. She pulled the tie of the corset and let it unravel, until she could pull the dress off her body. She kicked it on the ground and stared up at the other handful of white dresses to try on. 

Y/N had once loved her mother’s dress enough to consider wearing it for her own wedding. But the white material had too many harmful memories associated with it. Her mother had helped her craft the old wedding dress into her liking, and was set to wear it to her union with Francisco. Y/N had thought about throwing it in the grave with her mother, but instead, she tucked it away in a box. 

Reuben looked around the small bridal shop, the rows and rows of white dresses blending into one. He squinted at a dress that stood out to him. The lace of it shimmering in the light. He looked back at the dressing room curtain, noticing that her feet hadn’t moved from the spot she planted them in. He knew her better than anyone else here, and knew she was fighting with herself, trying to find the dress that would make her father happy. That’s how everything had been since her mother’s death. Paulo had basically drilled it into her barely conscious body after they had found her: ‘don’t piss off the Don, he saved your life.’

“I’ll be right back,” Reuben said to the two boys, pushing himself up from the couch and walking over to the dress. He gently ran his fingers over the material of it. He grabbed it off the rack and walked back over towards the dressing room, “Can I come in?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah,” Y/N answered back. He pushed the curtain back and smiled at her sadly, “I don’t want to wear my mother’s dress. I don’t care what the fucking Don says-” 

“I think you’ll like this.” Reuben spoke, cutting her off. He handed her the dress that was draped over his arms, “I know you mentioned the whole princess Diana thing once.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N said, her eyes softening. Reuben gave her a tight lipped smile, hanging up the dress. He unzipped it and pulled it off the hanger. He crouched down, to help her step in the dress, and pulled it up her body. Once she had it secure on her upper body, he stepped behind her to zip it up. 

“I knew it,” He said softly. 

Y/N was at a loss for words. The dress looked like something from a dream, and felt like it was made to be worn by only her. She stood staring in the mirror for a few minutes, eyes trailing over the intricate lace that covered the bodice, admiring the way the lace did not overtake the skirt, but spread delicately across the chiffon.

“Are you done in there?” Javy asked, interrupting her thoughts. She looked at Reuben in the mirror, who was already giving her a sweet smile. When she turned around, Reuben already had his arm poised for her to take, leading her out of the fitting room and back towards the others.

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[merge-conflict]

marked for death

(written for a weekly song prompt, just cleaned up today for shippy saturday. non-binary V/Goro)

--

Ten years ago an Arasaka bodyguard had died protecting the emperor of Japan. Beset by the slowly creeping threat of retirement, Goro had always hoped he would end his career the same way– but now his troubles are much bigger than young soldiers with fresh implants and endless ambition. Now he has lost everything and his only hope of redemption relies on the ebbing life of the thief he’s managed to drag into an AI-operated cab.

“Please keep all limbs inside the vehicle during operation,” the AI chirps brightly, and Goro clumsily leans across V to pull her right foot inside. In the enclosed space of the cab her height makes it difficult to maneuver her upright, and he ends up wedging one of her knees into the back of the seat in front of her before leaning back in his own side, keeping one hand clamped on his seeping wound.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the AI says, and the doors on either side shut securely, with a faint whir. Goro exhales, allowing himself a moment of relief. “Please insert a personal jack to confirm all passengers.”

Ejecting the jack from V’s wrist takes Goro longer than it should, with hands are slippery with blood, shaking from the fading stim and physical shock. His implants are dulling the pain in his side, rerouting connections, reducing blood flow away from sliced veins– but the damage is extensive. Without medical attention he will eventually slip into unconsciousness and die. After much fumbling he finally coaxes her personal jack free, and inserts it into the waiting port, before doing the same for his own.

“Guest passenger confirmed,” the AI reports, the screen in front of Goro briefly pulsing green. “Primary passenger unconfirmed. Please try re-inserting the link.”

Goro does, a few times, without success. The longer they sit here the more danger they are in. “The personal link is damaged,” he says, with effort. He cannot take in a full breath– a blinking warning at the edge of his vision warns him of lung damage. “The bullet…damaged her implants.”

“All passengers must be confirmed before service,” the AI replies, and then pauses. “If you are unable to authenticate with the wrist jack, you may instead connect the diagnostic link directly to the port located near the right mastoid.” With a slight click, a cable springs free of the screen, and Goro picks it up, examining the sharp tip with a sinking feeling. “I’m afraid you will have to insert the link underneath the skin.”

“If I am not careful…she will die.”

“I suggest you proceed with caution.”

Goro lowers the cable to pull V closer and for the second time is astonished by her intense gray eyes, lit by some internal spark that is burning long after it should have been extinguished. She can’t pull herself upright, but she wraps her fingers around his wrist, where he has a firm hold on her collar. The expression on her face is serene, but it sends a burst of adrenaline through his system, and in response his implants steady his nerves in a cool rush of calm.

“Do not move,” he tells her, adjusting his vision so he can see the pulse of blood through the arteries in her throat, tipping her head back for a safer angle. Her fingers tighten on his wrist in alarm, but she does not struggle.

“Do it,” she hisses, when he hesitates.

Panic sets her heart beating frantically, the pulse in her throat jumping in time. Goro picks his angle, lines up the link and pushes it through the skin and tendon until it is nestled into the subdermal connector of her implanted interface. V’s back arches, her breathing panicked, forcing him to hold her still so she does not rip out the link or cause herself further damage. Blood spills down his fingers and over the back of his hand, soaking into the cuff of his shirt.

“Primary passenger confirmed,” the AI announces, before Goro can think of the right words to calm her. She tenses at the announcement but stops moving, except for the frantic pace of her breathing. “I advise you not to remove the link until we have reached our destination–“

A loud ringing in Goro’s ears prevents him from hearing the rest of the sentence. It’s all he can do to hold things steady as the car finally accelerates into motion, taking them further into the heart of a rotten city. V holds his gaze– both accusatory and forgiving with her blood oozing hot down the inside of his sleeve. Then between one street and the next, her eyes slide shut, and she slumps into his side.

The streets of Night City are as endless as they are ugly, and he cannot be certain if he orders the AI to drive faster or if he only dreams it. He grows weaker and weaker, with nothing but determination to keep him alive, to keep V alive– so long as she lives, there is hope of exposing Yorinobu. So long as she lives there is reason for him to live as well.

No sooner as he steels himself to stay awake then he finds himself jerked from unconsciousness as the cab comes to a rolling stop. Panic gives him the strength to open the door and crawl free from under V, limp but alive. A stranger is waiting– a man he can barely see in the end of his rapidly tunneling vision. On instinct he picks up V’s legs to help carry her, but after a moment he finds himself on the ground facing her body in careless repose. Death awaits them both in this filthy alley, within the shadow of Konpeki.

Before his eyes slip closed he is certain he sees a sliver of gray watching his weakness. Witnessing it.

When he finally wakes in the back room of the ripperdoc clinic, he can no longer escape the keen edge of despair– Arasaka-sama’s murder and the loss of everything, down to the cyberware implanted inside him. The emotion consumes him like the rising tide, inexorable and inescapable. He drowns in private grief, consumed with the contemplation of the bleak options before him, until he hears a low groan.

He’s not alone. On the other side of a narrow gap V lies on a makeshift cot the same as his own, connected to a portable set of monitors which display the vitals he can no longer see in the corner of his eye. She shifts in her sleep, making a strangled noise deep in her throat that mirrors the rage and agony in his own chest. Curiosity, or perhaps duty drives him to maneuver himself painfully out of bed.

The loss of stabilizing cyberware and too much blood make him clumsy, and he stumbles through his first step, crashing into her cot before he can grab the edge for balance. Her eyes snap open– desperate gunmetal gray once more arresting his attention.

She has ample reason to hate him– to resent and fear him for tracking her down and returning her to Arasaka for interrogation and execution. But when recognition flickers in her eyes, her bruised and battered face breaks into a soft smile that grabs him unexpectedly by the throat.

He is not alone.

Unsure of what to say he merely clasps her shoulder in acknowledgement, and sees relief flit over her face. She speaks, but her words are garbled and soft, and he’s lost his translation soft. He squeezes her shoulder in response, and with great effort she lifts her arm to rest her hand on his wrist. Her expression grows serene and remote, until her eyes close. He is not alone.

[mykingdomforapen]

Man, the AU you mentioned about LTC possessing LG and causing damage with his voice and hands that he'll wake up to has not left my brain. I do have some questions, if you would maybe expand on it a bit!

Do you think this is a bit of a role swap, in a way? Of LG being the one possessed instead of QL after what happens with Liu Min and Emma? In that case, what could happen? LTC would have access to his memories, to CXS's vulnerabilities and fears that LG is well aware of, and coming back right after Emma's death might have CXS in a position where only words could do immense damage, without even mentioning the knife he might or might not have access to.

I feel CXS might recognize it's not LG even if LTC tried to act like him, right? But it would not make what he says sting any less, or would not make a sudden stab any less surprising as he comes back from a dive with his guard down, I guess. Ah!!

He might be possessing LG in a completely different context, too, I guess! Although he would need LTX to be around for it to be done remotely, right?

Please forgive my rambling, even just as a concept, I'm very very curious to know what you considered for that idea. Thank you for your time!

Thank you for giving me an excuse to expound on an indulgent au that I dream of whenever I have trouble staying awake during my jet lag aksjsksksk.

I admit that when I have my sleep-affected stories in my head, it is effectively Whump Without Plot so I didn't really have a logical reason of why Lu Guang would be possessed. However, if we were to make a rhyme or reason for it, it would likely be to make Qian Jin's capturing of Cheng Xiaoshi quicker. Since CXS was targeted by the antagonists because they wanted to take advantage of his abilities, after all.

(Which of course is what happens vaguely in the canon, but shhh)

But in an AU where CXS doesn't recognize LG is being possessed (or, even if he does find something odd, isn't in a position to question it), he would easily follow Lu Guang anywhere no question. So he would be an easy mark as long as the baddies can use LG to take him somewhere else.

As for my indulgent AU in which it's a completely different context, maybe baddies want to separate CXS from LG for whatever reason, make him run away from LG and make him more vulnerable to the baddies' attacks, whether to capture him or something else. In which case, they can use LG and force him to push CXS away even if it's just for one vulnerable night. And since LTX's abilities are such that she can see all the memories of a person, it would be at least enough to glean what LG's usual personality and talking style is like to make his possession seem at least believable. And as you say, if it's on such a night that CXS is perhaps already vulnerable--maybe a bad dive, or a hard reminder about his parents--really, it's about saying something hurtful to CXS that he already kind of believes about himself that would make him less likely to question whether or not LG actually means it.

Like, if a possessed LG were to say that CXS is cruel and dishonest, I think CXS would be a bit ? about that. But if LG were to call CXS, idk, clingy and burdensome, which arguably (at least in my headcanon) CXS has wrestled with in his own self-image already, that would make him a bit more likely to believe those are LG's words. Because CXS is already struggling with those worries that he is so, and hearing it from his best friend who knows him most deeply would feel like confirmation ...

(and if he doesn't believe it's LG, then possessed!LG would just knife him and drag him to the baddies we get the best of both worlds lol)

Of course, in the way that Chen Bin was able to sort of gain some sense of self when he was possessed because he was being forced to walk off the edge of a building but the love for his unborn daughter gave him some consciousness to, while unable to resist, have sentience, I can imagine that Lu Guang's love and care for his best friend and seeing the way that he was being used to hurt him would give him some ability to try to resist, or at least be conscious about what he was being forced to do...which is perhaps even worse....

Witnessing his own body and mouth hurting his best friend but unable to stop it...

[sterlingarcher23]

An "eye-opener"

This quite literally opened her eyes... Oh, foreshadowing. Nachtigall ick hör dir trappsen.

"Let me see" (If "I hear you" while listening to the radio forshadows blind Max, the "Let me see" forshadows the opposite.)

Why? Because both Lucas & Erica are connected to the 8.

You know... Kali. The dice could have shown any other number in slow motion but it's the 8 before it's a 20 (the ElMax & Lumax patterns both equate separately to a specific number once the final verse happened: 20)

Lucas speaks directly to her inability to see and feel and he says "We're gonna get you some help". Not for the resurrection, he speaks to her condition, her loss of sight and unable to feel/been paralyzed (the dying/resurrection is addressed after this) - Some don't see her paralyzed forever but blind definitely? That is inconsequential. (Seriously, you can't just flat out say one part is probably not the case but the other is. - It's both or nothing. That's why it's in this scene.)

A supernatural genre show and you truly believe everything is going to be normal?

Blind girl...

...um, psych.

Blind girl connected to her friend - when she grabs Els hand, she pulls off her glasses.

"Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds", Neverending Story

So behind Max's clouded eyes "rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold". We still have to see this, don't we? S4 didn't gave us this.

Angel by Madonna, in its final line, says "Clouds just disappear". One shouldn't overlook this line of the song when everything else IS in the show.

And how? You know how. Brenner explained it even to us. We just misunderstood who was actually meant.

You know "taking abilities & memories".

Well she IS alive, ergo she will see another day even though it won't be her "eyes" that she'll use. It doesn't get more obvious than in this line - not only for this episode but in whole since this scene is a forshadowing of both her death and resurrection (I think there's the clock sound at the 20 minute mark?):

IF Max lives (Yes & Yes), she will SEE another day (Yes and logically Yes again! + "In your hand/s the birth of a new day"). And Lucas & Erica will get her some help as Max demanded "Let me see" via the 8. (which is btw the shape of the binoculars too)

El will be Max's eyes. Yes, I agree. Literally. This scene here is meant literal. You remember Phineas Gage? No? Go watch the scene. 😉

I'll talk about Gage in another post but there's a case of a woman that was blind after an accident. She was diagnosed with brain damage ; you know the thing Max doesn't believe is a thing...and she's right in her case. That woman wasn't blind, it was a misdiagnosis as it turned out many years later. The woman had something else... similar to Gage's symptoms but the correct diagnosis wasn't brain damage.

Max is blind...but she isn't at all. Because she'll consume. The silver cat feeds. Abilities. Memories.

The Talisman which Lucas reads from passage refers directly to Speedy. Speedy Parker whose alternate version, Parkus is a gunslinger, a knight. There's a third character with the name of Snowball (Seriously!) a blind musician who, although never directly confirmed, the protagonist of The Talisman, Jack, identifies as Speedy Parker. Snowball is extremely good in identifying other people himself even though he "can't see" - but if he is indeed Speedy, how can he be blind and be able to see at the same time? The Talisman - a healing object like the Grail - doesn't answer this oddity, it can be interpreted as a case of multiple identities/versions. However it is obvious why the Duffers chose this reference: Max is "Speedy" and therefore Snowball. That's why the "Snowball" happened. Blind yet not blind at all.

Plus: El literally removes blindness where he blinds the kids.

Oh, and about that brain thing...wait for a space walk that's been foreshadowed too when Max is introduced to the class.

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 10. Napoleon “Leo” Usher

A/N: where is the work for my man who’s gonna do it for me every time?! This series wasn’t my fav (better than the midnight club ofc! Argue amongst yourselves) but everything was executed very well! EAT THE RICH! Anyways I’ll probably do a re-watch at some point to appreciate it better. Look at me being back on my writing kick, someone bring me a treat and by treat I mean truffle fries. Alright this is kinda late and I usually never risk writing for any of Mike’s work but here I am. Hope this doesn’t flop but with the dust in this tag makes this very likely!! Okay ✌🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: A is afraid to get the Halloween decorations out of the attic or garage, fearing there’s bugs, which leaves B to do it. + Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment.

Synopsis: People can say a lot of things about Napoleon Usher but some may not be aware that he’s actually a homebody. However there’s a few places he doesn’t mind spending his time and that so happens to be at his best friend’s place, who also doesn’t mind actually putting him to work.

WARNINGS: Platonic x reader! language + dark themes/humor + mentions of s*ic*de + gender neutral friendly!

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

[6 weeks before the fall…]

Second guessing.

That happened to be something that was always jammed into Rudelle Povea’s head ever since they were young. Their parents taught them to be curious when things didn’t feel right in their gut and many times that resulted in phone calls home for being, “too disruptive to others in class,” which really meant too annoying for teachers who just wanted to teach without mountains of inquires coming from this kid to being, “too smart-mouthed and a know it all for me,” from their maternal grandmother who eventually gained guardianship over Rudelle.

If something’s been instilled in you for the longest, it can become a habit—whether good or bad is always up for debate. Sure at times it made Rudelle feel as if they were being a bit indecisive but they always looked at life as one big question mark. They didn’t have to just simply take it for what was thrown at them. If they were prompted to question it all, then in a sense they were persuaded to see everything from all angles before going through with a final thought.

Rudelle wasn’t incapable of making a decision, never think that but they always needed all of the facts before going forth. For instance: take the death of Rudelle’s parents when they were only twelve years old back in the United Kingdom. Rudelle’s grandmother was not only controlling and cruel but she was also a really good liar that kept up with the tale of how Rudelle’s parents died. As if Rudelle would never get older and do a deep dive considering the career they went into as a pathologist assistant before Rudelle got laid off.

How convenient that they seemed to be laid off the further along they got into the reports of their parents’ apparent murder-suicide. Lots of sealed off information and blocked out text was enough for Rudelle to come to terms with their family constantly hiding but what exactly?There were always more questions than answers but there was no doubt in Rudelle’s mind that their grandmother had something to do with this.

A crack sounded at the window, bringing Rudelle out of their lengthy daze, spotting a black crow flying from their sight yet again. Rudelle didn’t waste any time, pulling out their phone to make note of the arrival of the same crow and exact date when it provided more damage to their window in the living room. Sighing they got to their feet, phone still in their hand as they got closer to the window, inspecting the cracks that seemed to get bigger each time.

After the sixth ring the line picked up.

“Leo, you coming ‘round?”

“…what’s in it for me?”

“Good company.”

“Is that a underlying proposition for us finally hooking up?” He sounds wide-awake now.

Rudelle snorts, “Keep on dreaming, mate.”

Rudelle doesn’t wait for a response as they end the call, knowing that when they called each other it was rarely for a chat since they could just text and send voice notes to each other. If they called each other it was usually within good reason—although it was a fact that Rudelle Povea and Napoleon Usher lived slightly different lifestyles.

It was about half an hour later when Napoleon shows up to Rudelle’s apartment, barely appearing, almost as if he was struggling to hold himself upright against the door.

Rudelle snickers at the dark attire and their friend’s appearance, “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key this time, why the long face? Did I ruin the post party?”

Napoleon rolls his eyes as he shoves his way inside the familiar apartment. He’s kicking off his shoes in the foyer and heads to the right to dive face first into the beige couch.

Rudelle closed the door behind the man and heads to where he is and squats beside him, “So…”

“No! I don’t want to take your fucking quiz, let me sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to ask any more about your night because I can just tell how it went,” Rudelle responds before adding, “I actually saw that crow again—

Napoleon lifts his chin to glance towards the window and sighs, “Where’s the maintenance manager when you need them? You do have that here in this unpleasant building, yeah?”

“I don’t care about the window.”

He blinks hard at Rudelle, “well you should, love. There’s what? Three cracks now and if you don’t know, they can spread and who knows what else will get into this building once the window finally decides to give way?”

“Your concern is sweet.” Rudelle’s reply is sarcastic.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Buuut! This is the crow’s third time doing that and it’s got me thinking.” Rudelle plops down on the floor, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Let me guess? About you fantasizing about being Brandon Lee’s eternal lover.” Napoleon mumbles—as if he hasn’t heard this before.

Rudelle’s been going on about this crow for a few weeks now and, “the Crow,” (1994) happened to be one of their favorite movies. The thing about Rudelle is that they always tried to find meaning and symbolism for everything. They honestly should have went into literature. Napoleon may have half-lidded eyes right now but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t ever listening. He’s known Rudelle for years, before Roderick came around and molded him into a Usher. They’ve always had a hunch for something and Rudelle wasn’t wrong about Napoleon’s father so who’s to say they would be wrong about this crow?

“No Leo…this time I’m thinking about decorating.”

Napoleon sighs as a smile appears on his face then, “I knew this day would come! There’s not much to work with but I’ve been saying this flat needs a makeover. It just doesn’t fit for you, you know? You’ve got personality and yet this still looks like a staged showing when we first toured this dreadful place. It’s boring and sort of stale—much like Tamerlane’s home now that I’ve come to think of it.”

“Whoa there, I don’t have nearly enough mirrors for us to match.”

“Funny,” Napoleon smirks a bit at the jab since that’s what it was. It’s not like he would ever blame his siblings for the way they all turned out and carried themselves, they had their father to thank for that but that also didn’t mean they were really loving towards each other either. They didn’t know what that felt like either and although Napoleon had his mother in his life, they drifted the moment she sent him here to meet Roderick at eighteen. The Usher siblings gave each other shit right to each others faces and behind each other’s backs.

Rudelle’s been around since before Napoleon gained the title of “being a usher,” so she’s seen it all and only threw in jabs to get a reaction from Napoleon. They knew to tread lightly, not out of fear but they still knew their lane and left that open for Leo to completely bash—if need be. However that still wasn’t in his nature to bash any of his half-siblings, he still saw something in them that they all shared…the torment conditions of being a usher maybe?

Believe it or not, he’s got some feelings about the mere thought of having siblings although they had their issues…there was still some level of respect beneath it all. This was just who they were, take it or leave it.

The world would most likely leave it.

Yes he was closer? If you want to use that term—to Camille and Perry but he was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand on how fucked this family is and always would be while the rest chose to shield that to the public eye.

“Which space are you thinking of first? This living room should be it since it’s the second focal point of this flat. And please don’t tell me you’re going for wallpaper? This is not the bloody 1920’s.” Napoleon spoke, resting his cheek against the back of his hand.

Rudelle shook their head, “I’m not really talking about renovations Leo. The crow’s got me thinking about Halloween decorations…which are down in the basement.”

Leo sits up instead and opens his mouth ready to respond until something catches his eyes on the coffee table. He leans over to snatch the files up, already sensing what they were before his eyes briefly scanned over them. “Ru! You’re investigating again?!”

“Well yes but this has nothing to do with my desire to be festive this time around.”

“I can’t say I believe that,” Leo shakes his head in disapproval, “this is the same shit that got you laid off from a decent pay—for your standards and now look! You’ve gone and decided to be some sort of archivist?”

“They actually haven’t called me back about that interview so…”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My nan’s got just enough pull as daddy Roderick and Auntie Madeline?”

Leo rubs at his beard in frustration, “for fucks sake I almost threw up in my mouth just then. I told you before not to refer to Roderick as that!” He glared at Rudelle who is definitely amused, knowing that irritates him then continued on, “…That could be almost true since your nan gives shady vibes too but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve got nothing else better to do.” Rudelle shrugs confused before stating, “Just your unemployed friend on a Tuesday that’s keeping busy and trying to not ride on their savings.”

Leo raised his brow, “you think cracking the case on your parents’ death is somehow gonna give you income? That’s like wishing on a lucky star babe. There’s a reason you haven’t got anywhere with this and it’s been months, yeah?!”

“They were framed for a murder they probably didn’t commit which led to their deaths…if I can fix this then I can sue this shit system for if not all it’s worth then…I’ll take half.”

The determination was clear in Leo’s best friend’s eyes. They didn’t see that it was sounding a bit deranged but they had their own facts as well and if they strongly believed this then who was Leo to stomp on it? Leo didn’t know how it felt to not have two parents around but he did know how it felt to have a emotionally sad mother raising him. His mum was kind hearted to Rudelle back when they all lived in Redbridge and it certainly wasn’t out of pity, she was kind to anyone who shared the same decency to her son.

See, Napoleon’s mum is also very observant. She knew from the moment that Napoleon and Rudelle became friends (aged fourteen) that they would be able to keep each other afloat.

They were the pieces of good—more so Rudelle on the surface—that battled the bad the world laid upon them.

“Alright then…” Napoleon trailed off glancing upwards in thought, “in the mean time, you suppose decorating for Halloween will bring you clarity?”

Rudelle shrugs, “maybe. This could be a breakthrough.”

A breakthrough to just accept the job Napoleon’s been offering them since they settled into this city back when Rudelle was twenty-one. Leo’s been into gaming since he can remember, always wanted the latest games that his mother couldn’t afford at the time just to end up with it later on mercilessly. Not really—Roderick made it his job to buy his way in and taking care of Leo financially from a distance.

Yet when those eighteen years arrived and he actually met the mysterious man who tried to buy—definitely not his love—but rather his place as a Usher…Napoleon thought he was getting a chance to build a relationship with a man he didn’t know very well…but instead he was one of the shiny pieces in Roderick’s game.

Rudelle had dreams of being a geologist until she was in custody of their grandmother. They always had that woman in their ear growing up, dictating what they should be instead of what they wanted. All kids have dreams and aspirations but along the way there’s often detours. Those detours happen to be people who only saw greed and Rudelle chose what she thought would be the better option. To do it all on her own instead of being beneath her grandmother’s claws and Leo was still affiliated business wise or not no matter what choice he made.

They were both similar in that way.

Making their own choices, thinking it would work out in their favor.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Great,” Rudelle grinned ready to get to their feet, “I’ll grab the keys for the basement and you can head down. It’s seventy-four which is in the path of almost like a S shape.”

Leo frowns as Rudelle begins to move around the apartment in search of the keys, “wait…you’re not sending me down there alone are you?”

“Yes I am.” Rudelle went through the cabinets of their white kitchen, “there’s bugs down there. I can’t—I won’t. I can still feel those ant bites from last year just speaking on it.” They trail off in thought, scratching at their collarbone, “Which is why I kept most of my decorations shoved in closets up here.”

Leo frowns, “you sure you weren’t on shrooms?”

“Oh piss off! I still got the bills to prove it.”

“So you want me? This glorious piece of ass to be a early feast for some critters? Do you hate me? Do we suddenly have a problem that I’m unaware of?”

“You just said you’re going to participate in my breakthrough? Aren’t we mates?”

“Mates don’t set up mates!”

Rudelle pretends to think about it, which earns them a shove from Leo while Rudelle laughs in return latching onto some keys that were tossed into a drawer.

“Fine, if you wanna hold hands just say that.”

“Are you really going to hold my hand? A taken man?”

Rudelle was tempted to throw in a, ‘Glad you remember that you actually have a boyfriend this time around, considering how many times I’ve caught you in cheating acts.’

But they refrained…only because they had this idea to get their hands on the decorations and didn’t want to do it alone. Sure Rudelle maybe grasping at straws but that holiday changed the trajectory of everything losing their parents on that Halloween night. If you believe in the supernatural…maybe just maybe they could communicate with them in some way.

“Only if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not of the dark, rather what’s in it.”

“Don’t you worry buttercup, I’ve thought of it all.” Rudelle’s patting Leo’s cheek who furrows his brows as they disappear again around their home.

Leo exhales deeply, “if you did then why am I being dragged into this?!”

“Because you’re my best friend and you can’t help but to love me back.”

“I guess…”

“What?!” Rudelle calls from somewhere in the apartment.

“I said I must confess! You know like queen Britney once said.”

“Uh huh.” Rudelle appears back in front of Leo who started peeking through their fridge.

He clasps a tatted hand to his chest, “I forgot that you’re so light on your feet, should have been a astronaut.”

“Not a chance, I think you’d miss me too much,” Rudelle winks and begins to model out the accessories they gathered for the both of them on their sudden adventure.

Leo thinks about it, taking a bite out of the cold veggie pizza and shrugs, “eh you’re probably right.”

There was no denying that Leo classified Rudelle as his only and legitimate friend who didn’t care about his nepotism. Don’t think they didn’t argue over money when his ignorance got the best of him in the beginning but it didn’t become a thing until it became a thing from time to time.

The basement in Rudelle’s building always smelled of moth balls, fresh dirt, cigarette smoke, and wet air. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but with the city that they lived in it wasn’t anything foreign. The deeper the pair traveled through the bottom of the building, the colder it felt; even with the friends standing side by side.

Leo whispers to his left, “you look like you’re not batting on a full wicket.” Referring to Rudelle’s attire of a full hooded wetsuit, sunglasses, and a KN95 mask.

“Sounds like you’re jealous and wouldn’t be able to pull off this fit.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Leo starts doing that irritated blinking he so commonly does, “which trust me I don’t—I’d like for my balls to breathe so that’ll be a negative on the jealously part. You however still are giving very much nutbag.”

Rudelle bows, “thank you, thank you. A true star is going to war.”

“Star? Let’s not go that far with that outfit you’re wearing.”

“You should really talk to your therapist about your haterism,” Rudelle bumps Leo’s shoulder, “ready?”

“Not really,” Leo comments, “what are the sunnies for?”

“The jumping spiders.”

“The what?!” Leo stops in his tracks, “you never said a thing about that. I thought we only had to worry about the ants. Spiders are much worse than ants!”

Rudelle shushes the man from beneath their mask, “can’t turn away now, we’re not far from the decor.”

Leo is muttering away as Rudelle begins to drag the brooding man along, “you have me smelling like a old man who has back spasms on a daily with this lavender and eucalyptus oil. You better be lucky that I like you.”

“Oh what ever would I do if a usher despised little ol’ me?” Rudelle pouts beneath their mask.

“More like, what would you do without me?” Leo mentioned as they traveled the s path to the storage room.

You know that eerie feeling you have when it feels like someone is watching you from the corner of a room or standing over you as you sleep? It’s one of the reasons why Rudelle sleeps with the covers completely over their face. It’s also one of the reasons why Leo was more of a side sleeper than any other position—unless he was up to something else that is. That same feeling was creeping up the nape of Leo’s neck although his hoodie was tightened to his head.

As the friends take what feels like slow steps closer to the storage, there’s a tapping feeling that falls upon Leo’s right shoulder. It’s instant that he whips his head to his left to where Rudelle once stood but they’re actually up ahead, unlocking the first gates to the storage room.

“Did you feel that?” Leo calls out, while looking behind him at the path in which they came.

The creaking of the gate is followed before Rudelle says anything, “depends what was felt.”

Leo isn’t sure if he likes that response, “what do you mean?”

“I’m not the only tenant that doesn’t like coming down here.” Rudelle says, “come on then, don’t be afraid.”

“I’d actually feel quite better if I had my Mjölnir.”

“You’ve got me, babe?” Rudelle grins over at Leo who snorts as he cautiously approaches them.

Leo stands at the entrance of the gate while Rudelle is already inside, “is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Sonny and Cher think so.” Rudelle winks over at Leo who shakes his head at that.

“Cute but not really my style of music.”

“Don’t I know it Mr. Hangs out at cracked out pubs for fun.”

“Definitely not my kinda party either.” Leo steps inside the gate while Rudelle searches for their storage, trying to recollect which side it was actually on.

Rudelle let’s out a cackle at that. They remembered a time when a tattoo-less glasses wearing Leo was afraid to try a spliff back in the day and now look at him, the main party man out of the duo.

Leo let’s put a whistle as he walks down the aisle of gated storages that seemed to be collecting dust on top of their piled up items. “This isn’t so bad although most of you may have a hoarding problem.”

With those words lingering in the air, the main gate behind them seems to slam shut behind them making both Rudelle and Leo’s heads turn back to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me—

Rudelle shakes their head in disapproval, “I told you to use the brick to keep it open!”

“When did you say that?!” Leo exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

“Back when you said someone tapped on your shoulder.”

Leo rests his clasped hands on top of his hood as he gulped, “I—I never told you that.”

“Yes you did.”

“No! No I didn’t, Ru!” Leo felt unsettled, “I only asked if you felt it but never elaborated to what it was.”

Rudelle hums at this.

They could have sworn they heard Leo explaining that to them? There were reasons why the tenants on Sycapine hardly ever came this far down in the building. Things that couldn’t be explained, much like what the two best friends were experiencing. Leo would later brush this off not bothering to connect what he encountered with Ru as similar incidents his own family would face but way more extreme.

“Well…might as well stay awhile. We got nothing else better to do, since you just locked us in.” Rudelle unlocks their storage section, holding eye contact with a very annoyed Leo.

Leo points, “I didn’t do anything! You thought you could suddenly telepathically tell me shit for real this time?!”

It wouldn’t be Rudelle’s first time.

“You’re the one who said someone tapped on your shoulder, so clearly you’re the one who failed at telepathy.”

Leo felt his eye twitch, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Whatever,” Rudelle says kicking a box towards the dark haired man, “pop a squat buddy, you’re not going anywhere.”

Leo kicks back at the box and rushes over to the gate to rattle against it, thinking that would apparently get it to unlock. Slipping their hand against the padlock, he couldn’t angle his wrist just right to pad any numbers in and the extra stab was seeing a brick right across the gate, almost mocking Leo with bright green eyes while the hallway went black for a good two seconds, demanding that Leo witness the disturbing image.

The after effects of a party never had Leo like this before.

There’s another touch but it’s a pinch this time that sends him snatching his hand back through the gaps in the gate. Holding onto his skin he examines it to see that there’s no damage only tricks playing on his mind?

He glances back at Rudelle who comes back out shoving a heavy box out of their storage.

Leo finds a spot on the lighter box Rudelle previously kicked his way, keeping quiet until they come back with yet another box to sit across from Leo. He tilts his gaze sideways to read the text, “HALLOWEEN,” on the brown box.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Rudelle dips their head, “cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Leo shushes his friend while peering around, “never made any sense to me anyway. Who the fuck hopes to die?!”

“Relax babes, the yelling.” Rudelle curls a finger against their ear.

“Sorry are my frustrations bothering you?”

“No but you acting like a dickhead is.”

“How are you being so calm about this?”

“Normally I wouldn’t be but things are happening too much for this to be a coincidence so I’m looking at this as another perspective. This all could be my parents’ doing. Thus! The breakthrough.” Rudelle taps on their temple.

“If you say breakthrough one more time,” Leo warns, “you’re good at second guessing yourself and believing whatever your brain tells you to but has it occurred to you that this could all be the devil?”

Rudelle says, “and here I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I didn’t put a label on anything, it’s not really my thing but one thing I know is evil. And what I feel down here is not necessarily kind. Are you sure you wanna fuck with that more with these decorations?” Leo leaned his elbows into his knees.

Rudelle sighs, “can you definitely say that? And not just blame it on anxiety?”

“Would you say the same with the crows? I mean that is the whole reason why we’re down here.”

Rudelle is silent at this for awhile and Leo can see the wheels turning but he’s not the most patient.

“I’m convinced it’s something else.” Rudelle exhales, “I know this building better since I did the research before moving in.”

“Do I wanna know that history?”

Rudelle lightly shakes their head, “I’ll keep it to myself…otherwise you might burst a blood vessel and I feel better having you focused rather than pissed.”

“fucking hell! I don’t like it when you keep secrets.”

“I know!” Rudelle yells back, “but this is an itch that I can finally scratch and I just need the support.”

Leo rubbed at his face, digging the palms into his tired eyes. He understood, of course he understood, he just didn’t exactly enjoy things that go bump in the night.

Never did but being the kind of friend that he is, he would get his point across—even if you didn’t like it but still find a way to be what you needed.

“Fine,” Leo holds out his hand which Rudelle smiled at before quickly tapping the back of their hands together before moving into a smoking motion, pointer and thumb pressed together as they pressed a kiss there before pulling away to exhale the bad into the air, “one love.”

“Always.”

Leo’s smile quickly vanished, “Just know…”

“Ah, here we go.”

“I’ll fucking haunt you if I go first.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Leon.” Rudelle rolls their eyes, “there’s answers in here somewhere.”

Leo feels he’s holding his breath as Rudelle begins to reach for the flaps of the brown box. He’s not sure what could be so off-putting by Halloween decorations and if these would be the usual kind? He personally wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween as he didn’t enjoy being spooked since that tended to make things difficult for him.

‘Yes there are…but are they the answers they want?’ A feminine voice belonging to the entity named Vera, who hasn’t fully introduced themselves yet speaks above the long time friend’s heads but she doesn’t show herself.

She lingers in the shadows for now but she’s never far. So she watches on as the box becomes open, four flaps folded back as Rudelle takes a large inhale, peeking at Leo who holds their stare.

Unbeknownst to them, the gate behind Leo quietly unlocks and leaves the door ajar.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

[yukirayu]

Compare and Contrast: Koujaku and Towa

Full disclaimer: despite the tag I used (which is just for traceability purposes), this post is less of a meta and more of a character comparison post, to show how Slow Damage really took pages out of the previous N+C games.

And this post is about these two.

It’s easy to miss, but Koujaku and Towa are a lot more alike than they seem. It's easy to see where they're similar and where they're different, but there's still a lot of things that you can draw between them. Even with what I’ll point out here, I’m sure I have yet to cover the entirety of it by the end. With that...

To start with the easiest points of comparison, both of them have their hair covering their right eye. Koujaku’s concealed eye is still functional, though he wants to hide the tattoo on that side of his face. Towa lost his right eye in a shoot-out, and while it’s covered by a patch, the hair also keeps the injury from being in full view.

They also have a large scar on their face, specifically across the bridge of their nose. Though it’s never revealed how they got those scars, it’s easy to infer that Koujaku got his scar during his time in the yakuza, and Towa got his scar from either one of his models, or a beatdown, or something else.

They also share the same color motif of red.

Koujaku wears red on his person, from his hairpin to his kimono. Even his eyes are red. And in his transformation in his bad ending, his hair color and the sclera of his eyes turn red, with his tattoos shifting into bright crimson patterns.

Towa is clad in black from head to toe, but red is confirmed to be the color of his aura (or what’s called his “Smoke”), even though he can’t see it, which foreshadows how his connection to his mother is a lot more complicated than the simple concept of blood ties.  

Both are also the bastard sons of a yakuza leader, although Koujaku was chosen to take over his father's organization because the man's legal wife couldn't bear any children. While Towa was a member of his father's organization, he was never chosen as his heir. At most, he was just left some inheritance money.

There’s also how both committed matricide, even if accidentally.

The main difference is that Koujaku dearly loved his mother, who also cared for him as best she could. Sadly, their ties to the yakuza brought them a lot of suffering, with Koujaku’s father abusing his mother very often.

And as part of the obligation forced upon him, Koujaku was tattooed… except that he had the bad luck of being assigned a tattoo artist who just so happened to be collaborating with Toue in his experiments involving mind control.

Shortly after the inking was complete, both Koujaku's physical agony and his emotional distress about his situation soon caused the tattoos to take over his mind, resulting in a massacre that left no survivors, not even his mother.

Towa barely knew his father, but his mother put him through the wringer, and then some. She was malevolent enough to kill the only one who befriended Towa, and she even tried to kill Towa later on, even if it backfired on her big time. While she more than deserved to die, her death was ultimately an accident.

Both were haunted by their mother’s deaths. Koujaku kept his horrid memories with him throughout the years, whereas Towa’s mind repressed all memories of his childhood as a means to cope.

But whether they remember or not, the event damaged their emotional and mental well-being, and there are the marks on their bodies to prove it.

Koujaku sees his tattoos as a shameful curse. It’s not hard to see why he regards them as such, given what it could do to him when anger - an emotion that he’s proven to be unable to fully keep in check - gets the better of his thoughts and actions.

It’s a permanent reminder of what was done to him, and what he had done under its influence. Even in Re:Connect, it’s shown that it’ll take a very long time for him to truly make peace with the etches of ink on his body, even after he got his revenge on Ryuuhou, even after visiting his mother’s grave after so long.

Towa’s scars are also a reminder of anyone who had hurt him to satiate their perverse desires. Even the ones that he inflicted on himself are connected to that. So he would have every right to detest them, since it would always remind him of that dreaded chapter of his life - much like how Fujieda detests his own scars since it reminds him of his parents’ mistreatment.

However, Towa chooses not to. Even when he remembers why he has those cuts all over his body, while he’s not so fascinated with them now, he doesn’t wish to regard them with shame because he refuses to give his mother’s damned soul even that bit of satisfaction.

And then, there is how the trauma affected how they lived for years up until the present.  Koujaku sought to kill himself for what he had done, but couldn’t bring himself to due to the memory of the one other person he deeply cherished who is still alive.

So he returns to Midorijima, still hiding his wounds and his internal conflict, but hoping that being with his other most treasured person would make the pain of living still worth it. And one of his theme songs, “By My Side”, speaks about how he feels being around Aoba is enough even if his love remains unrequited.

Meanwhile, Towa ended up listlessly drifting through life while engaging in degenerate behavior and harmful habits to keep himself emotionally numb and to subconsciously regain control out of the countless times he was helplessly subjected to harm.

While he has the company of people who care for him and who he (subconsciously) cares for in turn, his scars run way too deep that even years later, he responds to almost everything and everyone with only apathy. While he can feel emotion, his mind believes the opposite, as yet another way to cope.  

And then... there's their bad endings. In almost every bad ending, Aoba and his love interest are trapped in the hellscape of their minds in some way. Koujaku's bad ending gets that extra cherry on top by having him and Aoba reach out to each other from the abysses of their minds.

This sounds eerily similar to Towa's fate in Fujieda's bad ending, right? From his mind breaking and his personality transforming into his monster of a mother's.

And that brief, tragic moment of clarity.

As for the good endings, yet another easy point of comparison is the little fact that both have a good ending CG where they and their beloved are surrounded by cherry blossom petals. To add, there's plenty of symbolism behind those flowers that applies for both pairings. (I made a meta explaining TakuTowa’s side, though sadly, it seems Tumblr failed to include it in the tag search.)

Though the sad thing is that as a love interest, Koujaku can only find his closure if he’s the one who ends up with Aoba. As the protagonist, Towa is bound to find happiness or contentment with someone no matter what, even in the other endings where his past remains a mystery to himself.

[dark-elf-writes]

I’m rereading the timeloop au for inspiration and just,,,,

“No, crying comes later when they have reached the tower and the scrolls are opened to reveal Iruka-sensei looking down on them. Telling them they did it. They made it.”

What if Naruto and Neji opened a scroll earlier hoping something useful would be sealed inside like weapons for the next round, ration pills, etc. But instead, Iruka comes out looking more than a little confused. The confusion ends quickly when he realizes that they disobeyed the order not to open the scroll and is promptly replaced with anger.

His yelling gives them away, and Orochimaru finds them earlier than in any other loop. Iruka tries to protect them, of course he does, but what is an academy teacher to a sannin? In a heart beat, Iruka’s body is splayed on the forest floor and blood paints pale lips crimson red. His warm eyes turn glazed and empty even as they meet Naruto’s in a final plea to run. He does not.

It’s the first time Naruto manages to inflict major damage on Orochimaru. It’s the last time they open the scroll. It’s the last time they try to involve someone else.

These loops are their burden to bear, in life and beyond death.

They’re starting to lose hope when Naruto suggests it. It’s the seventh (eighth?) loop and they’re both close to shattering. What are the two of them supposed to do when faced with one of the Sannin and his chosen Shinobi? They’re just genin. Naruto is barely a few months out of the academy. Not to mention trying to get the rest of Team Seven to listen to anything is nearly as painful as losing to the sound Shinobi time after time.

They are, to say least, in way over their heads.

“It has to be something right?” Naruto breathes, huddled close in their impromptu camp that has become a sort of base of operations a meeting place so they don’t need to waste valuable time looking for each other when they should be trying to run.

This loop was not kind to them. Lee’s arm is broken. Sakura has lost enough blood that, short of a miracle, Neji didn’t think she would make it through the night. Tenten was staring blankly at one of her torn scrolls blood and mud matting her hair and her unfocused eyes looking a bit too dead for comfort. Sasuke was unconscious, holding his curse mark even in his sleep as he let out punched out little groans.

Naruto was nearly out of his near limitless chakra and, if not for his insane healing ability, would have bled out and more than likely lost a leg from the deep gash to his thigh. Neji’s hair was shorn half off and the bandages around his forehead, right over that damn seal, crinkled as he turned to look at Naruto.

They wouldn’t last much longer. Neither of them nor their teams. Something had to give if they wanted to make it out of this loop alive if nothing else.

The scrolls… weren’t a bad idea all things considered.

“It could be storage.” He mused. “Two parts of a key for the next section?”

Naruto snorted, one of the arms wrapped around his knees reaching out to tap at the place where his weapons pouch usually hung. Lost in the same attack that should have killed him. “I’d take a key. It would be better than trying to kill a Sannin with a stick. I’d even take one of Kakashi-sensei’s dogs if it meant getting help.”

Neji blinked. A summons.

“That’s how the enforce the confidentiality clause.” He breathed. “They’re summoning scrolls that bring leaf Shinobi.”

Hope sparked in those blue eyes for the first time since the third loop when Naruto watched Team Ten die one after another right in front of him. Fragile as the little glass sculptures Neji remembered his mother being fond of and twice as beautiful. They had, if not a plan, than an idea for the first time in several loops.

“We open the scrolls.” Naruto said, slipping his out of one of the many pockets in his orange jumpsuit, now muddy and caked with dried blood and dirt to tone down the eye searing color.

(They should steal some clothing on the next loop but Naruto was so small. Would the increase in stealth be worth it if he was tripping over the pant legs?

No. He couldn’t think that way. This was the loop. They would get out r of here this time. They would live and fulfill all those promises that had whispered to each other in those stolen moments when they weren’t running for their lives.

A home. A family. Freedom. Love.

They could do this.)

Neji shouldn’t have been surprised when the scroll summoned Iruka-sensei. He had been hoping for a jonin, ideally Kakashi or Guy who would make short work of the bastards on their tail, but he supposed it made sense. But…

“What the hell we’re you thinking Naruto?!”

“Iruka-sensei it’s-!”

“You were told not to open the scrolls!”

“Yes but-!”

“Now two teams are disqualified!”

“I don’t care! Will you just-!”

The attack was in a way less surprising than seeing Iruka-sensei. The scarred man drilled in the middle of his lecture and tilted his head to the side before grabbing a fist full of Naruto’s jumpsuit and hauling him out of the way of three kunai.

They had been found.

And for all of his skill and determination to protect them, Iruka was only a Chunin against one of the legendary Sannin and his two remaining lackeys.

He was just as in over his head as they were.

He lasted longer than they ever had, but died all the same. Gut split open in a haunting mockery of the scar across his face and Naruto’s name on his lips.

As Neji listened to Naruto’s scream (layered, deeper than it should have been, burning with chakra as his teeth sharpened into fangs) he promised himself that there would be no other loop that involved asking for outside help. Not when that outside help would be the only person Naruto saw as a family. Not when his death shattered him like this.

His only consolation when he felt the kunai slam into his blind spot was that he got to watch Naruto’s clawed hand bury itself into Orochimaru’s gut before he died.