#syndicate of the seven au

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn��t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

M E A N D T H E D E V I L W A L K I N G S I D E B Y S I D E

Sukuna isn't the type of person to say "I love you." He's not the type of person to love. He was a demonic warlord, known for his cruelty and lack of empathy. What part of that screams "lover boy" to you?

baby, you're a haunted house

Society will tell you that playing with ouija boards is a bad idea. this fic begs to differ. a demonic Sukuna smut

close calls

Love is scary, Isn't it Reader? Sukuna thinks it is. but at least he's facing his fears for you. a soft Sukuna smut.

sacrilegious

Feeling holy? Maybe a little less than holy? Do you want to have your guts rearranged by a God in his own temple? yea, me too. a holy Sukuna smut.

unholy

Did you like the idea of the previous fic, but think you'd relate to it better if the reader was of the male variety? well, do I have news for you! A smutty Sukuna drabble

seven minuets in heaven

Maybe you're feeling something a bit more modern reader. Something more relatable? Like a college au where you lose your virginity to a frat boy named Ryomen. A modern day Smut

better off as lovers

Dating is hard and falling in love is harder. Ryomens love isn't up for debate, but if he's truly ready to give up his playboy life style for you is a little more questionable. Part two of Seven Minuets in Heaven. A smutty hurt/comfort fic

new mistakes

I would say being left at the altar was the worst thing that could have ever happened to you, but I think the revenge sex with Ryomen makes it all worth it, don't you agree Reader? A modern day revenge smut.

bad miracle

Gojo has always been an idiot, but he's really done it this time. He's kidnapped the wrong girl, and now, leader of The Syndicate Ryomen Sukuna has to figure out what to do with you.

A Mafia Au smut

heir to the throne

Sukuna never wanted to be a father. Why why hell would he want that? A sticky, stinky, ball of chaos that feels the need to destroy everything. Why would he want that? It's no surprise you hid your pregnancy from him for so long.

A Dadkuna fluffy fic

urban legends

You don't see the point in it; chasing myths on Halloween night, going deeper into the woods than you ever had before. You'd rather be at home than chasing ghosts. But, your best friend insists on finding evidence of the local urban legends, and surely she won't abandon you the moment you find what shes been hunting, right? A TrueFrom!Sukuna smut.

change of plans

Funny how something as small as a grain of rice can cause such a shift so massive in so many lives. Deny all he wants, you're having a baby and now Ryomen has to comes to terms with being a young dad. Part of the Frat Boy AU Some introspective fluff

tiger hybrid! headcanons

We've all wondered what he would be like as a tiger hybrid, right? Right? some Smutty Headcanons

breaking up headcanons

While you would be entirely within your rights to leave Sukuna, what on earth made you think it would be that easy? some more smutty headcanons

feral nights

Ryomen always got what he wanted, it was a simple rule of life. And ever since he caught your scent, you were all that he wanted- your previous bond mark be damned. And you must have wanted him too. Why else would your window be open in the middle of your heat? An omegaverse Smut

[cringefailvox]

staticbelle au, because this bsky art gave me brainworms. seven years pre-canon, charlie's mom and the radio demon have both disappeared, though it's too early to tell whether either of them is truly gone yet, vaggie hasn't fallen yet, and charlie is completely on her own. she's estranged from her dad, she has barely an inkling of a plan for how to save sinners, and her overwhelming compassion has nowhere to go—she wants to help people, but she doesn't know how. then she notices there's a new overlord syndicate on the rise, surging to fill the spaces the radio demon has left behind, and every window advertisement or tv commercial she sees insists that the vees want nothing more than to lend a helping hand to the downtrodden, if you would only trust them.

she's not stupid. she knows not to immediately take other demons at their word, especially not overlords, but the vees are swiftly building something she hasn't been able to accrue in two centuries: influence. sinners are listening when they talk, people are tuning into their shows and flocking to the entertainment district because it's safer than many other places in the pentagram, and charlie thinks this might be exactly what she needs. if she can convince the vees to platform her, if they're half as generous as they seem, she might have a real shot at changing people's afterlives for the better. and if they don't want to help her, then... she'll just have to be really, really convincing! no biggee!

enter vox, who cannot believe his luck. the kittens and rainbows, dumb blonde princess of hell waltzes right through his front door and offers him the opportunity of a lifetime to get into good graces with the royal family. he's greedy with alastor's absence and overeager to get his foot in the door on an even playing field with the other overlords, since bringing velvette onboard has catapulted the three of them into the mainstream and he's not about to lose his momentum now. he'll entertain her delusions, maybe give her her own talkshow segment late at night when no one who matters will be watching, forge a link between the morningstar name and the new identity he's staking out for himself in the wake of alastor's disappearance. after all, the worst that can happen is she embarrasses herself under his name and he has to swoop in and oh-so-benevolently rescue her, and it's not like val doesn't already do that every other week. plus, ratings are ratings.

so he keeps his word. he gives her a platform, albeit a limited one; he enthusiastically encourages her ideas for rehabilitating hell and privately thinks it's hysterically idiotic; he lets her deliver her pitches in musical form live on air and isn't charmed, not even a little bit. he expects that eventually she'll get discouraged and give up, and when that happens, he's going to step in with a warm smile and gently suggest that they try something a little different, a little more vox's speed, and if he can get her hand shaking his in the process then that's only a magnificent bonus.

except. charlie refuses to quit. she's not an employee, so she comes and goes as she pleases from the tower and suddenly vox's days are being interrupted by a sheepishly excitable princess who has a new script for him to look over or a tune she wants a second opinion on and of course vox is accommodating every time, of course he's supportive, even when he's so fucking irritated he plasters on an indulgent grin and invites her in, because he's made an art form out of swallowing his real feelings for the sake of appeasing the public or valentino or alastor and this is not a relationship he can afford to jeopardize with something as trivial as hurting her feelings.

so he indulges her. he picks up one of her glitter pens and reaches over to scribble something on her illustration of all the overlords holding hands and it's all downhill from there. before he can think to pump the brakes, he's being looped into genuinely investigating what qualifies as sin and redemption for damned souls, he's having his architects draft plans for an extravagant rehabilitation hotel that makes her cry when he idly mentions it, he's sighing and enduring the way all his vulgar mugs have mysteriously been rewritten with positive messages instead (fuck hug alastor!), he's letting her lean over the rim of his pools and gasp with sheer delight over his sharks because that doesn't give him the warm and fuzzies, not at all—and he's even somewhat patiently heeding her constructive criticism about all the mind control and abusive work environments and predatory business practices that the vees engage in. like, obviously they're not going to stop, but he does talk to val and vel about toning it down a bit, at least while charlie is around. gotta keep little miss sunshine happy, right? (no one tell him that he really doesn't need to be doing all this, he won't listen.)

meanwhile, charlie has gone full starry-eyed dreamer with vox's backing. for the first time, someone is genuinely supporting her, even if that person is an evil capitalist who sometimes feeds his employees to his sharks and is definitely hypnotizing people with his ads but, uhh. everyone has flaws!! and doesn't it kind of balance out, if he's helping her figure out how to redeem people, ensuring her ideas have real power and structure behind them, and even limiting some of the fucked up shit his partners do for her sake? maybe he's not doing it for the right reasons, but he IS doing good, and shouldn't that matter? charlie absolutely thinks it does. she didn't really intend for vox to be her first case study for proving that every sinner has the capacity to be better when given the opportunity, but like hell is she NOT going to milk this for all it's worth for as long as it takes for vox to realize that he's committed to the bit too hard and actually. Likes her. and wants her to succeed. and feels his mood lift when she's in the room. and may or may not be addicted to making her happy. g-d fucking dammit

all this to say that one day, when he presents her with the operational plans for the grand opening of the happy hotel, and she exclaims "oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you" and leans up on her toes to kiss the corner of his screen before tackling him into a hug, and his screen explodes with pink pixelated hearts—well, he's well and truly fucked himself. whoops! the princess of hell is your girlfriend now. yeah, you've lost the plot. mazel tov

[paintbrushnebula]

Have you ever thought about making a Ghostflower Tangled AU? Because I can't stop thinking about Miles with 70 feet of blonde dreads, and Gwen's failed smolder and begrudgingly guiding Miles to see the lanterns. It just works so well in my brain.

Hi! YOU! YES YOU! You've got my number! Because I LIVE for Ghostflower x New Dream. Gosh, I live for Spider-Verse x Tangled, period! I've had it rotating in my brain for about a year now, although I guess I've never really talked at length about it or shared any of my ideas for a proper Spider-Verse x Tangled AU, have I?

I was a little embarrassed before, if I'm being honest 😅. But if y'all wanna indulge me, THEN HYYYES IMMA WAX POETICALLY ABOUT THIS AU TILL THE END OF TIME AND SPACE.

Rapunzel - Miles Morales Eugene Fitzherbert/Flynn Rider - Gwen Stacy/Ghost Spider Mother Gothel - Olivia Octavius Captain of the Guard - George Stacy King Frederic - Jeff Morales/King Jefferson Queen Arianna - Rio Morales/Queen Rio The Stabbington Brothers - Tombstone and Ben Reilly/Scarlet Spider Maximus - Widow (Web-Slinger’s horse) The Snuggly Duckling Pub Thugs - The Sinister Six (they’re soft-confirmed to appear in Beyond the Spider-Verse after all) Pascal - isn’t in this AU.

So the overall plot of Tangled remains relatively the same, with the cast of Spider-Verse implemented into it, of course.

18 years ago, King Jefferson used the sundrop flower to heal the dying pregnant Queen Rio of Corona. Prince Miles is born with golden, ultra kinky 4c hair and magical healing powers, gets kidnapped by Mother Olivia, locked away in a tower deep in the woods, the whole shebang.

Now, Gwen Stacy is the secret identity of masked legendary thief Ghost Spider, currently a respected, high-ranking member of the Spider Society, a crime syndicate run by The Kingpin in the neighboring kingdom of Vardaros, the most powerful in the Seven Kingdoms due to its members' all wearing masks that hide their faces, rendering their identities completely unknown to anyone and impossible for any law enforcement to track them down. Recently, Ghost Spider has been commissioned by The Kingpin to steal the Lost Prince of Corona's crown from the palace.

So Ghost Spider has been on the run for years from the Captain of the Coronan Guard, Captain George Stacy, her father, who has no idea the masked thief he's hunting is his own daughter.

And don’t think I haven’t thought about the TV series exclusive characters!

Cassandra - Lyla (you have no idea how happy I was when I came up with that) Lance Strongbow - Hobie Brown/Rebel Spider Kiera and Catalina - Peni Parker and Margo Kess (they’re not kids in this though) Uncle Monty - Aunt May Varian - Miles G. Quirin - Aaron Davis Adira - Jessica Drew Hector - Miguel O’Hara The Baron - Kingpin (obv) Anthony the Weasel - Web-Slinger Baron’s Henchmen - Spider Society Lord Demanitus - Peter B. Parker King Edmund - Spider-Noir/King Benjamin Hamuel - Spider-Ham/Hamuel (he’s not called “Spider-Ham” ofc but he is still a talking anthropomorphic pig in this) Zhan Tiri - The Spot

Your concepts about Miles with golden dreads, Gwen's smolder, her taking him to see the LANTERNS OOHHHHHHH yeah imma just have to draw all that, sorry. Talking about it aint enough. Expect a buncha Tangled x Spiderverse fanart to be flooding my blog soon XD

[fordoggo]

Sooo I've read loads of shinran fanfics for years >> Shinran Masterlist

And I've decided to share my good recommendations of fics about ran finding out conan's idenity (this was posted in reddit as well):

RAN FINDING OUT:

Facade by platinum-breaker

Summary: Conan did not expect Ran to suddenly corner him one day.

The Face She'd never seen by ChibiRaccoon

Summary: In all the time she had known him, Ran had never seen that look on his face.

coming back to her by readingnotes

Summary: They broke him. They broke him into so many pieces, and now they're right in front of her, not Edogawa Conan, not Kudo Shinichi; no, now she's the detective, she has to solve this jigsaw puzzle and put him back together. He won't be the same. Of course not. But she'll fix him into the person he'll become.

Artificial Anxiety by Serinox

Summary: On that fateful day in Tropical Land, Shinichi turned away from chasing Vodka when Ran called out to him. Now they are in a relationship and things are progressing nicely. But events happen, which create a kind of artificial anxiety between them, that they have to deal with. Good times are easy, but can they get through the hard times too?

BACK WHERE HE BELONGS by jojoangel01

Summary: Takes part in Shinichis rebirth. Will he seize the day he was rewarded with after getting his body back? Will he be able to control his feelings for a certain person that holds his heart? PURE FLUFF, I mean it! SR, of course! What else? [COMPLETE!]

seven-percent by AngelicSentinel

Summary: Ran finds out at the worst possible time Shinichi is Conan. Now she's got to break them both out of the Black Organisation's lab, but time is running out.

The Mystery of Conan Edogawa by funvince

Summary: Ran Mouri is tired of the lies and evasions. She is determined to get to the truth behind her little house guest once and for all. But is she really prepared for what she may find?

Ran isn't an Idiot! by Baekho0123

Summary: What if Ran knew the truth right away? What if she knew who Edogawa, Conan really is? How much will that change?

Kudo Will Die by Ichthyophobia

Summary: Kogoro finds out. Conan, miraculously, survives the revelation. But only because Ran should get to kill him first.

The Gift of Love by EsTeLweNadia

Note: happens after the reveal

Summary: AU – After the defeat of the Black Organization. Sometimes, the greatest gifts of love come in small packages. Shinichi/Ran.

Feel What You Know by impossibleorimprobable

Summary: They killed her. They killed Mouri Ran. High school detective Edogawa Conan grew up cold, ruthless, and brilliant as ever. With his help, police took down the biggest crime syndicate in Japan. In the ashes, they found a child that bore too much resemblance to a girl that should have died ten years ago. The truth must come out. But at what cost?

OTHER FICS

The Case of the Missing Detective by Krista Perry

Summary: On hiatus, NOT dead. Please see my profile for details. ) A former member of the Black Org wants the secret of eternal youth and immortality, and he thinks he can get it by kidnapping Conan. Conan begs to differ.

The Darkness Inside by Akrim

Summary: Aoko receives a bunch of foreboding messages. It could be a prank but she still decides to consult with Kudo Shinichi - just in case it was not a prank. But it's Ran instead with whom she decides to decode these messages. But things are not what they seem and soon they have spun a web of lies, secrets and danger.

SIDE NOTE: if I can find more of the fics which is under a pile of files I've kept for so long. I will edit, feel free to add your comments and suggestions!

[inkblot-inc]

A Simple Meet-Cute

Summary: A slow night at your job picks up with the presence of a certain woman in red, this meeting also serves as the precedent for your life-course to shift...

Pairing: ???Wanda Maximoff x Hyena!Mutant!Reader

[S.S AU Masterlist]

Warning(s): Dark Themes; there's no smut in this one, but this is an 18+ AU aka MINORS DNI. To start we got depictions of breaking bones (not in depth, but it’s there, suggestion of murder, mention of mutant trafficking (did I really go back there again? Yeah, but this time with a dash of discrimination toward mutants), let’s see… language and general violence, cuz hey, you know what I get up to...kinda-

Note(s): This timeline-wise is way before "The Bigger Picture". I figure after I had my medias res moment, I wanted to go ahead double back to show how Wanda and R met. Were they done around the same time? Yes….And your point? I'll also go ahead and say that they're both a part of the Scarlet Syndicate AU. The masterlist should be up pretty soon, and I hope you enjoy this one :3

Word Count: in the realm of 1.8k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

Mutants. The next evolution in human genetics can manifest at any time and take many forms. Some develop their mutations when they're in the throes of puberty or while in adolescence. Others have had their mutation since they were born or haven’t had them appear until they’ve gone into adulthood.

In this world, humans far outnumber mutants in population, and people are more content to ostracize those who are mutants, as man has well been known to fear and even hate what they do not understand...

“Table seven is clear, hon,” You turned to see Miss Monica pointing to the back area. Nodding, you grabbed your rag and made your way to the newly unoccupied table littered with pools of water left by sweating drinks and crumpled napkins.

It was only maybe a quarter past eight, but the bar was already running thin with patrons. The quieter hum of voices compared to the usual clambering of laughter and muddled conversation clued you in to the change easily. As you cleaned, you caught a glimpse of the designated VIP section of The Photon Call. There you saw a small group that had been there for at least two hours now.

The woman at the head of the table was dressed in a form-fitting burgundy suit paired with a glossy black heel, blacked out sunglasses framing her face. A muted fruity smell with a hint of something else followed her stride. She came in with two men and another woman, who were all dressed formally. Monica merely nodded toward the woman when they came in before she had Jimmy lead them to the VIP area.

Looking at the group now, you noticed their “leader” of sorts had now taken off her sunglasses, moving some of her auburn hair out of her face. Her green eyes were just visible in the lower light. They had an extra person with them who was sitting across from the woman dressed in deep red. This man you remembered from a short time ago. he came in some time after the group he was now seated with. he was a bit of a crude figure, and he’d been rather transparent about his distaste toward you, his nose turned up at your short tail and pronounced ears as you directed him to the VIP area. You’d been privy to a few choice words muttered under his breath as well.

There was a light sheen on his forehead now that there wasn’t before, now that they'd all finished eating. His scent was more pungent as well; he’s nervous now, and a bit fearful. Though his posture is upright, there was a stiffness to his movements when he was speaking. It was a stark contrast to the others sitting at the table who remained confident and relaxed, though you noticed the growing boredom and aggravation from the head lady as she swirled the drink in her glass lazily.

When the gray-haired man finished speaking, the woman across from him simply raised a brow and checked the watch on her wrist. The other woman in the seat next to her, who was also a redhead, shifted in her seat. Her aggravation had been there since he’d started talking.

The leading woman set her glass down lightly, “Your offer has already been considered and denied, Hayward. I have other matters to attend to, so I believe we’re done here.”

The bluntness and brevity of her statement noticeably took the man aback as he floundered for his words. “B-but you have to understand, Wanda! This is for the benefit of the company-”

“What I understand is you can’t take a hint, Tyler. You call me out past my business hours, which should be well known to you, to propose an increase in mutant laborers as a ludicrous idea to increase production rates for my company. You also know my stance on such practices, which is why I’m left confused as to why you thought I would agree to it to begin with. I wonder if you’re having a gargantuan lapse in judgment, or if you’re really at the meeting point where bold meets stupid.”

The woman, Wanda, remained unflinching as the older man, Hayward, abruptly got up from his seat in outrage. Your hand slowed wiping down the booth seats as you noticed a spike in anger and resentment along with a feeling you’ve come to recognize as violent intent. The other redheaded woman shifted forward a bit, probably as a natural response. Hayward’s back was to you, and he garnered a lot of attention all on his own, so no one really noticed you move closer behind him.

“You don’t think you’ll defer to me? With one call my associates and I make motion to flip your company around on you so fast it'd make your head spin. So, I'll tell you what, you little bitch-”

It was when he went to move and touch Wanda that you restrained the man, your rag wrapped around his wrists and his arms behind his back. His right arm was now bent in a weird way, the connected shoulder probably came out of its socket, but that didn’t make you stop. All the while, Wanda and the people with her remained calm, if a bit surprised.

Wanda raised a brow at the actions of this new person restraining one Tyler Hayward. Now, Natasha warned her that her own senses were going off due to Hayward’s visible increase in anger, and she didn’t need to read the man’s mind to confirm it. Had he gotten anywhere close to harming her or was even capable of it, she would have ended him not even with a flick of her wrist.

But now she’s simply watching you effectively take the unsuspecting man to the floor, both of his arms were bent oddly and essentially broken at this point. A twisted growl streamed out of your mouth with sporadic hiccups here and there. Hayward continued to hurl threats at you as you kept your knees on the backs of his thighs, keeping him from moving.

Nothing seems to register as you simply looked up at Wanda and those with her, eyes shifting between each of them to make sure they weren't disturbed. You kept Hayward’s broken arms locked behind his back with one hand, reaching around and forcefully gripping his face with the other; shutting him up for the most part. You hunched over Hayward’s shoulder and turned his head to face you with your eyes meeting his, your eyes now giving off a dull orange glow.

Followed by what might be considered a misplaced giggle passing your lips, Wanda watched as Hayward seemed to fold in on himself. His thrashing to retaliate turned into a struggle to seemingly just get away from your gaze.

"Done yet?" Your voice came out low and close to his ear, and you heard his heart rate pick up further as your hand clenched harder in his hair.

‘Please, please, please! I don’t want to be here! I have to get out, dammit!’

It was odd for all of them to see this sudden change in attitude, no doubt caused by the mutant busboy who still had yet to say a word to them directly.

You looked up to see Wanda and those with her rising from their seats, the two men moving toward your form still holding Hayward to the floor. The old man was basically blubbering at this point, almost incoherent due to his erratic breathing.

“I believe Sam and Bucky can handle things from here. Do you mind?” Wanda’s voice was even as she spoke to you. You moved off of Hayward’s body and out of the way for, who you now know as Sam and Bucky, to heave him off of the ground. “Take him out back boys. We’ll let Monica know on our way out, give her a heads up before we send in the sweepers.” Her gaze settled on you as you stood up from the floor. You felt a spike of curiosity coming from the woman left with her that only persisted when Wanda stepped closer to you.

Wanda eyed you up and down as your eyes shone back at her. “I’d like to thank you for your assistance, regardless of the necessity. I don’t think I’ve seen you work at Monica's bar before,”

You gave a single nod, “I’m new.” Your voice was gravelly and clipped, Wanda noticing that there was noticeable scarring around your throat that would lead one to assume you sustained an injury of some kind.

Looking into your mind was its own venture. Your immediate memories were a mirror of the events that transpired, the people talking in them making unintelligible noises, not unlike the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

The further back Wanda looked, the fuzzier they got, like the hippocampus was affected directly. There were some that were clear as day: The day your father traded you to the prime minister of Niganda for his own freedom. Your first days under a “Dr. Paine” and your short-lived freedom after the lab was taken down. Some of your time in mutant trafficking including a few of the “masters'' who had you. A clear recollection of the man who had your vocal cords clipped for being mouthier than he’d like. The day you escaped, and finally to the day Monica found you wandering Mutant Town before hiring you here about a month ago.

These "core memories" were on a subconscious and grating loop in your mind so that you couldn't forget them. Everything else in between was basically lost as it was like trying to look through frosted glass. There was little direction and purpose other than surviving to the next day.

Equal parts distressing and intriguing to say the least…

As Wanda spent the last minute or so staring you down, your focus shifted to the woman behind Wanda. You didn’t catch her name, but you know she was a mutant based off of the distinct sweet smell complimenting her rainwater and pine trail.

They’re obviously close; she hasn’t stepped away from Wanda’s side once. Not too many humans would willingly put themselves in the company of mutants. Guess you can count this Wanda woman among those in the minority along with a few others like your boss.

When Wanda comes back to the present, she stares at you with a new light in her eyes as they dipped down to your nametag. “I like you, Y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” She rested a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you smelled a change in her scent- no, it became clearer.

Wanda’s scent was a sugar-coated apricot with a spike of cinnamon as it accented the air around her, then it hit you:

Wanda is also a mutant.

And somehow you knew you’d remember her for the long haul.

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Reworking Requiem and Mulder's Return (Part V)

The last of many, many Requiem AUs (thus far.)

Loose chronological order below~

Brynna's

Nothing at All

My head drops to the wall in front of me, and I watch the water at my feet run pink, her blood washing from my shirt, my hands, my neck. They couldn't have just let her die easily and painlessly, if they had to kill her. No, first they drugged her, then they shot her. All the while making me watch.

Pre-Requiem: The Syndicate kills Scully before she or Mulder finds out about the baby.

Realistically Yours

How he wanted to wake her. To let her know he was there. Another look at the circles under her eyes cast that option out. She needed her rest.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned to Scully's apartment; and discovers her pregnancy as he settles in to sleep.

Vickie Moseley’s (Ao3, Gossamer) My Dearest Son

First, let me set the record straight. When I went to Oregon in early May of the year 2000, it was not out some misguided sense of world salvation. It wasn't because of my innate sense of curiosity, although that's the reason I still contend with your mother. And it wasn't because I was called there as a result of something that happened to me several months before, some experiment that caused me to fall under the control of any other beings.

It was selfishness, plain and simple.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned 3 months later; and their relationship takes a turn for hurried and happily ever after.

Alicia K.'s (FFN) Guitar Hero

Scully watched as Mulder competently strummed the acoustic guitar and sang. he looked happy as a clam.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned seven moths later, a little bit... different.

Jenna Tooms/misslucyjane’s (Ao3, mulderscreek)

An Acceptable Level of Happiness (Gossamer) 

"Sometimes I can't breathe for thinking about it."

It's going to snow again. The sky is iron-grey, and the air is still and bitter cold. I hold onto Mulder tight. "When you can't breathe," I say, and then pause to get the tremor out of my voice. "When you can't breathe you get me and I'll breathe for you. I'll breathe for you, okay, Mulder? I'll breathe for you."

Post Requiem: Scully works towards happiness with her son and heavily scarred, fully bearded, and completely devoted Mulder.

Reunion

The light turns on and they all pause.

Scully's eyes are very wide and dark, and she stutters for a moment or two. The baby stares at him solemnly, without fear.

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned, quietly, 3 months after the birth of his daughter.

Shooting Star (1/4), Shooting Star (2/4), Shooting Star (3/4), and Shooting Star (4/4) (Ao3, mulderscreek)

"Your angel? Who is your angel?"

"Scully is my angel." He smiled genuinely now, still holding Scully with his eyes. "Scully has always been my angel. Scully saved my life. Scully saved my soul. Scully is everything beautiful in the world, don't you think?"

Mecham smiled gently too, and said, "Yes. I see."

Post Requiem: Scully finds Mulder 17 years later-- amnesic, cognitively challenged, and protected by Krycek. She works hard to bring him home to their son and build a life with the three of them together. Unanswered questions, however, bring darkness and uncertainty back to their doorstep. 

Karen Rasch's By the Wind Grieved (1/2 and 2/2)

"Scully, if that is Mulder in there, he deserves the truth," Skinner said swiftly, his tone gentling just a touch. "After all he's been through...anything less would be unfair. Especially from you. He's lost months of his life. According to what you've told me, his memory--"

"Sir, how long were you standing there just now?" she queried softly.

"Long enough," he replied.

"Long enough to see the look of horror on his face when he thought perhaps this child might be his?"

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned with amnesia and a target on his back. Scully insists on joining him in hiding; and the two dodge around their feelings, failing to clearly communicate before Krycek arrives and she goes into labor.

EmScully's Not Alone

Scully’s head jerked towards the sound, mirroring the alien in front of her. Down the small snow covered road, another alien monster stood, blurry in the blizzard. The animal in front of her took a few tentative steps towards the intruder, rose on its thick hind legs, a snarl emanating from its throat. And then suddenly in a flash it took off, back onto all fours, smashing into the other alien. 

Post Requiem: Scully was abducted instead of Mulder, and crashes back to a world overrun by alien monsters. Her son from the future (or an alternate version of it) helps reunite both partners, against the odds.

bugs’s Heaven

My gaze is drawn to his face--a hot, deep red collapsing sun. It cracks open and there is the white flare of new stars--fresh  and clean as heaven. Two blue-green planets have been born. 

My boy sees me.

Post Requiem: Mulder is not returned in time to witness his child’s birth. 

Revely's Unfinished Universe (Gossamer, WBM)

"That's what he was named after."

Mulder is momentarily confused. William was the logical choice - her father's name, and his middle name. She strikes him as being traditional in that way.

"It's not William?"

She shakes her bright head and reaches out to touch the rock with the toe of her shoe. "No, just Will."

He concentrates on not speaking yet, knowing that if he gives her time she might say more. Sure enough, she speaks.

"I will find him," she whispers. "I will."

Post Requiem: Mulder is returned a year later; and he and Scully and William slowly bond on the road trip back home. 

xraelynn/Rachel Nobel’s In the Clearing 

"I want to see Scully," he announced forebodingly over a physician-recommended high-calorie breakfast that seemed to make him more nauseous than energized. For a split second I felt an encroaching horror -- <he's having delusions, he'll have to be hospitalized> -- before I realized that he had meant her gravestone.

I opened my mouth to protest, but immediately relented. I couldn't deny him this.

"And," he added in a quieter voice, staring into his plate, "I want to see Liam."

Post Requiem: Skinner brings Mulder home, years after his abduction, to a deceased partner and infant son. Mulder pulls himself together and decides to reclaim his life on his own terms.  

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[riaarivic]

HATE 11: DAECHWITA (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary  You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 PLEASE READ Warnings For this chapter: This chapter has mentions of self harm, mental illness, human trafficking and torture. I want to clarify that there is no SA in this story at all and it won't be. But as I always say This is a mafia au, and organized crime is not all handsome boys and nice cars. This chapter and the next one are DARK.

So, if any of this triggers you, see you on chapter 12. Don't worry, you'll still understand the story. But no, this is not a filler chapter.

🌙 A/N At no time do I (the author) encourage this activity in real life, it is important that you know that the criminal acts in this book are that, a crime, as well as harmful to health and should not be romanticized. This is all a work of fiction for entertainment purposes.

Love, Ria

🌙 Chapter wordcount 5k (the longest one yet)

🌙 Series Index

1  2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 11: DAECHWITA

I got lots to lose

Shove the past into a rice chest

I'm about to dine on what I know is mine

Tap...

Tap...

Tap...

You were jolted awake by the water dripping from the leak above you, your head still foggy from the drugs they had given you.

The sound of voices outside the door caught your attention. 

Although your knowledge of Wu was limited, you managed to pick out the words "merchandise" and "not her."

A million things rushed in your imagination.

If you weren't so weak you would laugh as you recalled your last conversation with Emmet, your partner, the night before leaving. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

"The Seven Moons clan only deals in guns and drugs. Their leader thinks human trafficking is beneath them." The irony of a criminal mastermind with 'ethics' was not lost on you. 

“But they have the angels” you questioned, confused. 

“The angels are to the Seven Moons, what you are to INTERPOL: Employees. They are free to leave when they want. Park Jimin values loyalty over fear.” He explained to you. 

Emmet, you truly hated that bastard. 

But now laying down on a mattress probably dirtier than the floor below it, you wondered if you will ever see him again.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

You heard the voices outside getting closer to the room you were in. The door opened to reveal three men all dressed in black, with no visible clan tattoos. 

They lifted your body, moving you up to a set of stairs. 

You started to feel tired again. 

The clouds of drug infused sleep started to blur your brain and vision. 

The last thing you saw was a room you passed. 

A pair of terrified eyes looked right back at you. 

They looked young. 

Too young to be trapped in this hell. 

Your vision went dark again. 

And you were dreaming.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

You gazed at the full moon glowing ominously behind the high walls of the family compound. Kim Dohan was hosting a lavish party tonight, no doubt greasing the palms and egos of politicians and police officials alike.

Then there were you to the untrained eye you were just a snob heiress who wouldn’t be bothered with the clansmen’s business. But you were watching everything on a far corner, collecting information, names, counting bodyguards and every other piece of intel that you will later report to your team. 

A rustle in the bushes behind you caught your attention. You smiled, recognizing the familiar footsteps. "You know, for a crime syndicate that prides itself on secrecy and security, sneaking in and out of here is child's play, to you."

Suga emerged from the shadows, his usual smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "You seemed to be lost in thought. Anything I should know about?" He asked in a teasing tone.

You shook your head, allowing your  hair to curtain your face. "Just reflecting on your father's hypocrisy and wondering how a man so violently opposed to 'low people' businesses has no qualms about bribing and corrupting public officials."

Suga laughed, a rich throaty sound that made your heart skip a beat. "You know there's nothing my father hates more than irony and hypocrisy. If only he had your gift for seeing them so clearly, pretty flower"

Your breath caught at his last word. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, hiding in plain sight. But in moments like this, you couldn't help but wonder if Suga had already seen through your disguise. 

And if he had, what game was he playing? 

Because there’s one thing you had in common with every criminal in this room. 

You were a liar. 

To each and every person who was there. 

Starting with Suga, who was starting to warm up places in your heart you thought were forever frozen.

You had lied.

To everyone.

But especially to yourself. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

“Wake up, pretty girl! We have a special delivery just for you.”

You opened your eyes to the sound of the door bursting open and two men entering the room. 

The heavy footsteps of combat boots echoed in the room. The first man kneeled in front of you “The boss said to leave her face untouched” the man's husky voice spoke as he ran his hand over your cheek, you furrowed your eyebrows and pulled back “And rightly so, with a face like that. No wonder she has the two most powerful Moons right at her feet “.

You realized they were speaking Korean now.

The other man let out a sinister laugh “too bad we can’t have fun with her.” Your breath caught in your throat, you couldn't move and you were well aware you couldn’t defend yourself. Your heart was pounding as if it wanted to burst out of your chest and the blood felt frozen in your veins.

“Poor thing, she's terrified. I honestly thought that the fiancée of Kim DoHan's heir would put up a little more resistance.” The first man added clicking his tongue.

“Take off these ropes you have me tied up with and you'll see how I'll resist you, you fucking coward” Your own voice felt unknown, both men burst out laughing.

“I love it when they talk like that, don't you? Apparently Daddy's girl wasn't taught manners in private school”  the man slapped you in the face, leaving you completely stunned “What's the matter, don't you want to talk anymore?”

You spit out some blood “You're a dead man. Do you know what the price is for messing with the Seven Moons clan? They are going to find you and when he does… you're going to wish they gives you a quick death”

Now the other man kicked you, giving you a swift blow to the stomach. Making you feel all the air leave your lungs. Your eyes stung from tears wanting to fall.

“Oh, pretty girl. That's exactly what I want. The clan princess is in danger and her princes will come to the rescue... all the Moons in one place. That's extremely valuable, don't you think?” You were terrified. 

That’s what they wanted. 

You were the bait. 

And the Seven Moons were running directly to the trap. 

You felt stronger now, the effect of the drugs were wearing off. You knew you could take the first man’s gun and escape. Save yourself and save them. 

Them.

Suddenly the memory of the young pair of eyes you saw downstairs comes back to your mind. 

You couldn’t save them if you left. 

So you made your choice. 

You’ll stay, and hope you could stay alive at least long enough to save them. 

With a swift move you clashed your head into the second man's head. Leaving confused for a second. 

“That was a mistake, pretty girl.” the second man grabbed you by your hair  “I would tell you that this is going to hurt you more than me, but we both know it's a lie.” 

You felt a hit on your head and your vision went dark again. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Suga strode into the dimly lit warehouse, his shoes clicking on the concrete floor. In the shadows, he spotted a familiar figure sitting calmly on a wooden crate, smoking a cigarette.

What once was one of the most beautiful faces of Korea. 

Now stared back at him scarred from the flames of the fire 20 years ago.

In all honesty, he never thought he would see his mother’s eyes ever again.

But here he was.

"If I knew it was going to be so easy finding you, I would have probably done it two decades ago," he said dryly “I wouldn't have tried the ouija board that time when I was 11” He was joking, but his words tasted like venom in his mouth.

His mother exhaled a plume of smoke. "You were not ready then." His mother didn't flinch. "I'm not so easy to find, my son," she replied, her voice soft and low. "You are here, because I let you find me."

"Where is she?" Suga demanded.

"Patience. I have raised you better than that." She rose and walked toward him, her heels echoing in the empty space. "Before I tell you, there are things you must know. Things about your father, things about…"

“I’m sorry to stop your bedtime story. But I have no time for a happy family reunion.” Suga’s jaw clenched. "I don't care about the past or dark family secrets. All I want is Nari."

“My son. Some secrets are worth dying for.” His mother sighed. "You arrogant boy. The secrets I hold are the only things keeping you and that girl alive." She flicked her cigarette to the floor and crushed it under her stiletto heel. “A war is coming. And it is time for you to rise and take your birth right.”

Suga felt like the ground had dropped out from under him. "What are you saying?"

“The Seven Moons Clan is yours to take.” she finally confessed. “and Kim Dohan will do everything in his power to keep you away from it. Like starting a clan war for the second time. But I won't make the same mistake twice, I will kill the devil himself.” 

“The Jade Dragon… is it you?” 

“Yes" Suga's blood froze in his veins, how much more did he not know "I am the one who sent those gifts to Kim Dohan. Using an old enemy rising from hell to scare him… and manipulate his son” 

“Why?” he felt the air leaving his lungs.”Why did you take her?”

“I didn’t. The Devil did. He’s moving his cards too, he wants to turn the streets of Seoul red with blood again.” She moved to be right in front of Suga raising her hand to caress his chin “The death of a princess is reason enough to start a war.” 

“I will kill him with my own bare hands first.” Suga said, eyes dark with hate. 

“That is exactly what he wants. Go save her. The Lilly is in an abandoned car factory just outside the city limits. The one that belonged to your grandfather” Pushing Suga towards the door “Go and come back, there is so much you need to know.”

He wasn’t listening anymore. 

The rush of blood pumping in his ears sounded like a thunderstorm inside him. 

Hell was about to break loose. 

And he would be the one to open the door. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Your whole body ached and your cheeks were soaked with tears that kept falling.

Or was it blood on your face?

You closed your eyes and thought of home.

That beach in Busan.

And for a second, you no longer were in that room but in one of your few happy memories she had as a child with your parents.

You closed your eyes and remembered the waves.

You no longer knew if it had been hours or days, your consciousness came and went, you could hardly move and you could see hideous bruises all over your body. You were sure you had at least one broken rib because of how hard it was for you to breathe.

Out of nowhere there was a commotion on the other side of the door, screaming, banging and things falling everywhere.

But you were  too weak to get up to investigate.

Or care.

If they wanted to come and kill you, let them do it.

You could hear some gunshots in the distance, 

had they come looking for you?

Your answers came fast, when suddenly the door opened again.

Suga was standing in the doorway covered in blood and ashes from head to toe while holding a katana in his hand. Watching you in that state, The expression in his eyes went from surprise to immense sadness and then back to anger.

He dropped the sword and threw himself on the ground next to you, taking your face in his hands very carefully “Who did this to you?” Your panicked expression told Suga that you didn't recognize him.

He began to examine you realizing they had tortured you, bruising every inch of your body. And if he had not completely lost his sanity before, now he felt an almost animalistic fury, but he could not explode in front of you in that state “Nari, my Lily, listen to me. I am going to take you away from here. You are safe, I’m here now.” 

“The g-girl.” your voice cracked barely a whisper “downstairs” 

“Shh, pretty flower. You did well, they are safe too.” 

Jhope’s choked a scream when he arrived at the door and saw you. He could not believe what he was seeing. There wasn't an inch of your body that wasn't hurt, probably if Suga hadn't been with you Hoseok wouldn't have recognized you. 

“Take her home, Hoseok, right now!” Suga’s order sounded almost demonic. He got up, picked up the sword and left the room. He didn't want to leave you alone in that state but first, he had to make those responsible for hurting you pay.

He craved retribution.

In the only form of violence and blood.

His brothers stood at the door all with shocked and pained faces, none of them imagined they would find her in that state.

Jungkook felt his eyes water when he saw your figure being carried by JHope.

“Is she… alive?” Jimin stifled a scream by holding his hand to his mouth. He had never seen someone so badly hurt... much less a woman.

“Barely,” Jhope whispered.

Jin ran to help his brother so he could get you out of the place. Even Taehyung had both fists clenched from the rage he felt as he watched you pass by.

Namjoon fell wordlessly to the ground on his knees, he could never look at you in the face again.

Guilt wasn’t enough. 

This had gotten out of hand, he knew when the leader of the triads had called him to tell him that the van you were in had been intercepted.

This had not been his doing.

But it was Namjoon's responsibility.

“I want you to know that when I'm done here I'm going to come after you and I'm going to make you take every hit and every wound she has”  Suga spat at Namjoon, voice filled with venom. 

“You are the only one responsible for all this and even if I can't kill you, your biggest punishment will be to see her face and have to carry what you did to her... for the rest of your life.” Suga walked away towards the upstairs where the Clan’s men had captured the people inside.

Later, he would deal with Namjoon.

He had more important things to take care of now.

Suga hadn't earned the nickname Monster just because he had a scar over his eye.

Even if he had shown you the gentle side of his soul.

The monster really existed, it was part of him whether he wanted it or not and tonight he was thirsty for revenge.

He was thirsty for blood.

And nothing was going to stop him until he got it.

The smell of gasoline, fear and burnt bodies permeated the air.

Suga circled the two men tied to chairs like a shark sensing blood in the water. Behind him, Jhope leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes at the pathetic display.

“I’m going to ask you nicely one more time,” Suga said softly. “Who do you work for?”

The men kept their lips stubbornly sealed, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Have it your way.” Suga snapped his fingers. Two of his men stepped forward and pressed lit cigarettes into the men’s skin. A sickening sizzle filled the room, accompanied by howls of pain.

Jhope’s face twisted in disgust, he surely hated this part of the job. “Looks like pain is not going to break these pieces of trash.”

“You’re right,” Suga agreed. “I’m glad we kept some of the shit they were giving Nari. Maybe a little bit of their medicine would make them talk to us”

After a few more minutes of ‘persuasion,’ the younger man broke down into sobs. “We were just shipping merchandise when the boss told us to grab the girl! We swear we know nothing else!”

Suga crouched in front of him, his handsome face transformed into a demonic mask. “Merchandise? You refer to human beings as merchandise? You fucking bastard” His hand shot out and gripped the man’s crotch, twisting cruelly. The man screamed.

“We're going to die anyway!” the other man shrieked. “The Devil...he wants you dead. He's planning to kill your brothers and take control of the whole territory. He says you're a threat to his power, the true heir..." His words dissolved into whimpers as Suga's gaze turned molten.

“Our father wants to kill us?”  J Hope scoffed. "As if we haven’t heard that one before." He examined his nails. "Are you done lying?"

Suga straightened, his expression granite. "He 's not liying." 

“What do you mean he’s not lying, hyung?” Jhope’s expression changed completely as he felt his heart dropping to his stomach. 

“I’m saying that our father wants to kill us.” The older man responded face dark and devoid of any emotion “Come with me hope-ah. I need you to meet my mother.” 

“Please, tell me you are not dragging me again to play Ouija with you” 

“She’s alive, you asshat.” Suga answered leaving Jhope completely dumbfounded. 

“Somehow that feels worse.” Jhope followed his brother. His men dragged the two prisoners out the back. Seconds later, the flames finished their job erasing any evidence of what happened that night.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Seven Moons Mansion, outskirts of Seoul, South Korea.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Drops of water fell from the shower and filled the bathtub. 

But you couldn't hear any of it.

You weren't sure how many pills you had taken today, but they hadn't been enough to even slightly ease the pain you still felt throughout your body.

But they had been enough to disconnect your mind from the place where you were.

In your mind, you were on the beach of your memories.

The soft waves broke under your feet, far away was the storm that had taken everything in its path. On that beach there was no pain, no war, no missions, no clans, no .....

You  couldn't even think about that.

You had used that beach as an escape route several times. You would close your eyes for a second on the battlefield before leaving to calm your nerves and imagine the waves and the sand.

That way it was easier to forget that she had an assault rifle in your hands and that you had to defend herself against enemies in a war. 

Soldiers don't ask questions...

You hated criminals and murderers with every fiber of your being. But hadn't four years in the army turned you into one too? No matter if you had killed in the name of justice, your hands were also full of blood.

Soldiers who killed others in the name of their country were given a medal on their chest and called heroes.

It's a little late to regret it when you have a rifle in your hand and you're being shot at.

You sank a little deeper into the waters of the beach. 

Looking up and the sky, it was no longer completely blue, you could hear the thunder of an approaching storm.

Or was it gunshots?

“Park, open your eyes dammit! We are under attack. Call for reinforcements, we must get out of here.” The voice of her squadron captain brought you out of your thoughts, you were in the middle of an ambush. It had all happened so fast, you had entered an abandoned warehouse to release a group of civilians who had been kidnapped by terrorists.

It ended up being a trap...

A fragmented grenade came through one of the windows and the explosion was so loud that you almost lost consciousness. But you were able to drag your team members under some debris to protect you and them.

You didn't know who fired first, but at the end of the day Y/n Park had been decorated by her officers with a purple heart, for saving her entire unit.

For annihilating the enemy.

You dunked your head in the water on the beach. 

Calm, that was what you needed to ease your pain.

A little calm...

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The water in the tub had begun to overflow and was pouring out the bathroom door.

The mixture of the drugs in your blood and the tiredness you felt throughout your body caused you to begin to fall asleep. You did not feel when your lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen, nor did you hear when they broke down the door to get you out.

Arms pulled you out of the water and you felt a body collide against a chest sitting on the floor.

“Nari, hey, Lee Nari. Wake up please don't do this to me.”  a desperate voice was trying to bring her back to consciousness, but she didn't want to go back “How many pills did you take? Hope, tell me what’s this shit is and how do we get it out of her system, Fucking hurry!”

The voices sounded like distant echoes to you, you closed your eyes again and now yo were in another place.

The echo of a leak and the smell of dampness made her recognize the place.

Footsteps.

Punches.

A pair of eyes.

You couldn't defend Yourself, you didn't want to, 

If you resisted they would save them too. 

So you left to your beach.

Everything was going to be allright...

Right?

You just had to stop swimming.

The storm had arrived and the shadow of a dragon could be seen in the clouds through the moonlight.

The Moons.

Yoongi.

Had he found you?

The image of a bloody man with a sword in his hand flashed through your mind. But that couldn't be Yoongi, could it?

No, that person was a monster.

But wasn't she too?

You felt a sharp pain in your chest and a strong heat spreading through your veins, flames coursing through your whole body forcing you to wake up, bringing you back to reality.

You didn't want to, but you opened your eyes again and you were no longer on her beach. You were in your room in the Seven Moons  mansion, surrounded by the worried and anguished faces of all their young leaders.

All but one; Namjoon wasn’t there.

Suga hugged you tightly again terrified that if he let you go you would leave again “Shit Nari, don't ever, ever, ever do something stupid like that again. We almost lost you..”

Almost. 

You weren’t sure of that.

“Let me go. I can’t breathe” Your voice sounded hoarse in your throat, the curious eyes with which you looked at Suga were now devoid of any emotion. 

As empty as you felt. 

The man straightened his posture “All right, I’ll let you go. But you are going to listen to me now, you are going to eat, you are going to leave the IV on and you are not going to leave this room, if you want to go to the bathroom one of us will accompany you, understood?”

“I didn't know I was a prisoner now." you said expressionless. 

They had broken you, that could be seen for miles, they had damaged you beyond repair.

They had broken your being and lost the pieces along the way.

And Suga knew he couldn't repair the damage they had done.

But fuck him, he was going to try.

“Damn it Nari, you almost killed yourself in there! I understand, I understand you. I know how much it hurts and I would like to do something to help you but this is not the way. Taking a cocktail of sedatives strong enough to put a fucking horse to sleep for two weeks... is not the answer” his voice cracked at the last part “They're dead Nari, all of them. They're never going to hurt you again. I swear on my life.”

“Your life will be too short then…” you said “You keep calling me by my name, you've never called me by my name before, should I call you by yours?”  the man made a pained expression at her words and pulled back a little.

He needed some breathing space too. He knew what they had done to you was going to change you, he knew how deeply they had hurt you and even after a week had passed back in the house, he knew that time was not enough.

But seeing you like that, the guilt, suffocated him completely.

“You're right, you're my Lily and you're going to let me take care of you, whether you like it or not. So leave the damn IV on and then go eat” He got up from the bed and left the room but not before ordering the youngest of his brothers not to leave your room for anything in the world.

He also told him that he would cut off his balls and make a pearl necklace out of them if he left you alone for a single second.

But you didn't have to listen to that.

Message received 3:30AM: Unknown

Agent y/n, contact me immediately.

The mission has been breached.

Your identity is compromissed.

Someone has betrayed us.

Message deleted 3:31AM

Oh fuck.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Well hello,

This chapter... How can I begin. I love this chapter but I know its dark, i want to clarify to you, reader, that even if torture was mentioned (a few times now) there is absolutely no metion of sa.

I've been reading and rewriting this chapter because I honestly don't want anyone feeling uncomfortable or offended. At the end of the day we're all here for entertainment, release and fun.

But this chapter is pivotal for the climax of the story, yes we are getting close to it. And yes, this story is dark.

Some things I want to clarify: First: Reader character served in the Marines before being an INTERPOL agent. It is mentioned in chapter two.

Nari means lily in korean. When I write Nari I mean the reader's code name and when I write Lily i mean the flower. Take note of this.... this will be important later 👀

I'm sorry I took so long.

It's been a month..... and yeah 💀

Thank you so much for showing love to this story, writing is my release and it makes me so happy to see other people enjoying what I write. Love you all,

Ria

Tag List @drunkzseok@allamericanuniverse@catlove83@baby-cherry@officialholyagua @goldendenstudies @kristelll-inluv

If you want to join the tag list. You can coment this post or send me an ask!

[issybettyx]

BEDROCK BROS AU

Tdlr; Tommy was born into a crime family and is forced into their ideals and pursuits since a young age. Aged 14, he finally goes to therapy without his brother and father knowing. Technoblade is a therapist, purely because he understands the human mind very well and not because of his terrible comforting skills.

Tommy: i have trauma oh and my family is like the most well known crime organisation the police havent been able to catch

Techno: chill, don’t worry man i’m here for you

Or; i listened to music again. And ‘Bust your kneecaps’ came on. And i kind of accidentally made it bedrock bros.

-- // weapons, trauma, blood mention, murder mention, death mention, terrible parents (bad parent Phil, i know, who have i become), arguing

Tommy wasn’t sure when his first heist was. He didn’t remember much of it, that much he was sure of. But he did remember the gut wrenching fear mixed with a determination only caused by the want for a father’s approval.

Wilbur had said he was 7, his mask didn’t fit perfectly but his gun fit fantastically between his fingers, and simply his presence was enough for news of The Syndicate’s newest and youngest member to spread faster than wildfire, and it was news stations’ top story for over three weeks.

Theories of who he was, how old he was, why he seemed to confident despite his young age and questions of why The Syndicate would take in a recruit so young.

“You were our ray of sunshine, Toms,” Wilbur told him with a grin that Tommy couldn’t help but return, accepting the hair ruffles whole-heartedly, “Simply you being there made the entire mission so much easier, I’m so proud of you.”

Maybe those words weighed too much for Tommy to let go, maybe he knew that if he told them how much he was truly against their actions he would never hear them again, and that fear was enough for him to keep his head high for the next seven years of his life. His name made it onto the villain rankings within a matter of months, dubbed number 15 aged 8. It was when Tommy was 11 he reached number 4, and aged 13 when he was number 3, just below his brother.

It had always been that way, Tommy being one of the best but never the best. Phil had always made sure he knew it, assuring him he was amazing at what he did, correcting his hold on the knife until it was perfect for flicking at his opponents, a smile on his face the whole time as he congratulated him. But the way he looked at Wilbur, with a brighter smile, with more pride radiating from his glistening blue eyes as his son burned down entire streets without a single fingerprint to lead it back to him.

Wilbur had always been better than him, and Tommy had come to accept that.

Well, he thought he had.

It was on Tommy’s 14th birthday that he went downstairs to find Wilbur muttering something into his phone, an angry lilt to the way he spoke that made the kid pause.

“No, not today,” he huffed, and Tommy could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes and slightly lifting the glasses off his face in the process, “No, it’s my brother’s birthday, I’m not- dad.”

Oh, it seemed Phil wasn’t there that morning, how strange.

“Well one of us has to be here, he deserves a proper birthday and to be surrounded by people who love him, I’ll help you on fucking Christmas if it means I get to stay home today.”

There was such a firmness to his voice that made Tommy shiver, cupping a hand over his mouth to mask his shaky breaths.

“Fine, but you better be home for dinner.” Wilbur scowled, and the ringing sound of someone hanging up could be heard.

After a moment of deathly silence, Tommy finally walked out, forcing his face into a smile as he peeked his head around the doorframe. The moment Wilbur saw him, his smile widened, and he was rushing right up to him, lifting him up and spinning him.

“Happy birthday sunshine!” He cheered with a bright smile, and Tommy smiled back, knowing his grin could never rival the sun that was his brother’s. “Would you like presents or breakfast first?” He asked, gently landing Tommy’s feet on the carpeted ground and crouching down to his level, ruffling his hair as he giggled, attempting to swat the hand away.

They opened presents first, and despite the fact Tommy wanted to state just how much he adored each gift, thoughts kept swimming around his brain.

Why was Phil working that day? Why did Wilbur seem so off? Why was Wilbur better than him? Why, no matter how hard he tried, was he never enough for his family?

These thoughts led him to Google, seeing as no one else had the answers he assumed Google would (he’d asked Tubbo a random question once, and he’d replied with ‘just ask Google, Google knows everything’). The Google search led Tommy to something called ‘therapy’, which led him to standing outside of a random building two weeks later, taking shaky breaths as he thought everything over.

Everything in therapy, apparently, was confidential. Unless of course it put you or others in danger, but therapists were forced by law to keep everything else in the room within the hour slot given.

As long as Tommy was extremely careful and didn’t mention anything about evil plots and how his father and brother were the top two villains of L’Manberg, he himself being number three, then he could get away with it.

The doors swung open with his forceful confidence, and he flashed a smile at the receptionist as he sauntered over to her, leaning against a wall that was provided. “Here for therapy.” He stated, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. The woman looked him up and down, sighing before smiling, clicking a few times on her computer.

“Name?”

“Tommy Craft.”

“Age?”

“14.”

She looked at him in a strange way, raising an eyebrow that he only returned.

“Do you have parental consent?”

Oh, Google had told him about this too. Lying was never off his agenda, you learn from the very best in fact.

“Well my doctor permitted it, said I was aware enough of my treatment to understand I need it, my Mum dropped me off.” He explained, pointing out front to the car park. Only then did the woman sigh again, clicking again a few times before smiling back at him.

“You can go right in, down the hall and the second door on the left.” She pointed, and Tommy nodded, giving her a short bow.

“Appreciate you,” he told her, before strolling down the hall, keeping his head high and his shoulders lax, humming a melody his brother had played him on his birthday evening when their father still hadn’t gotten home (he got home at 2am, Wilbur was absolutely infuriated, Tommy was surprised to find he didn’t really care). Eventually, he found the door, reading the name plate on the door before knocking.

“Come in.” A deep voice called back to him, and Tommy turned the handle, smiling at the man behind the desk.

A buff man with pink hair wouldn’t be his first guess at a therapist; however, Tommy was a villain, not a horrible person. The man’s hands were crossed across his chest, his legs propped onto the desk showing how his boots didn’t have a speck of dirt, and a pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose.

In one aspect, he looked terrifying. His very small smile matched with his horribly white and completely uncreased frilled shirt painting a strange image, his folded hands too calloused to be anything normal.

In another aspect, Tommy could kick him square in the face and he’d immediately pass out.

“You must be Tommy,” he greeted, and he expected a handshake or something, but instead he just received a small gesture to a w chair with wheels opposite himself. “Take a seat.”

“What’s your name, Dr Blade?” Tommy teased with a grin, falling into the chair and leaning his ankle on top of his knee, sinking into the plush as the wheels rolled it slightly backwards. The man rolled his eyes, flicking a coin between his fingers - when in hells name did he pick up a coin?

“Techno. My name is Techno Blade, you can call me whatever.” He said with a shrugged, chucking the coin into the air and letting it land in his shirt pocket, smiling slightly with pride at his little trick. “How are you today, Tommy?”

It was in that moment that Tommy decided therapy was extremely strange and not for him at all. This man looked completely indifferent, he looked like he would rather be at home reading a book as he threw raw meat at his wolves, not sitting and asking how people’s days are going.

“Technoblade, today I am absolutely fantastic, I woke up, got breakfast, and came here.” He explained, bringing his arms out in a wide gesture. “Pretty remarkable day.”

The man huffed, seemingly amused by the sarcasm.

“Hate to ask such a blunt question kiddo,” Tommy frowned at the name, but decided against commenting on it for now. Didn’t want to upset the man on his first day meeting him. Totally wasn’t a choice made completely out of the rising fear in his chest. “But why are you in therapy? We ask this too all of our patients.”

“Patients? You make it sound like a hospital.” He scoffed, clearly avoiding the question in such a slick way only he and his brother were able to master. But Techno stayed quiet, watching him with a careful eye. Tommy frowned. “What are you doing in therapy? Huh? Technoblade?”

He still didn’t reply.

Strange.

“You’re creeping me out man, your eyes are practically red- oh my god you have red eyes, that’s so cool!”

Silence.

Tommy frowned further, sinking into his chair.

Why was he in therapy?

Google told him to be here, was his first thought. But then he remembered his English lessons, how the teachers always asked why, how they never took anything at face value. Techno seemed like an English teacher, he didn’t seem like someone who would take kindly to the answer ‘Google told me to be here’.

“Family stuff, I guess.” He replied, not one bit pleased, his face quite the contrary to the satisfied hum Techno gave him, picking up a pen and post-it-note, scribbling a few words before looking back up.

“Wanna draw?”

“I’m sorry?”

“This is the first session,” he started, folding his hands in front of him, “We don’t need to get emotional on the first day, it’s about building trust. Speaking of which,” Techno started, and Tommy already knew what he was about to say, “Everything you say in this room is confidential, I only take notes of things I need to remember for future sessions, however if you say something that could put you or others in danger I am legally meant to pass it on, do you understand?”

“No revealing my villain schemes to you, got it.” He replied, half seriously and half jokingly, but the man didn’t seem to hear the former part of the tone, huffing again.

“Well, if they include burying bodies, I know a guy.” He replied just as quickly, and Tommy couldn’t help his laughter, stealing a pen and a post-it-note, immediately sitting it to the arm of his spinning chair and doodling the first thing that came to mind.

The first session went… better than Tommy first thought it would.

There wasn’t any stress when be talked to Techno, and for just that hour he felt a strange safety in the chair as he listened to his therapist talk about polar bears. Tommy found himself rambling about moths half way through, paused to realise the man was listening so carefully that he involuntarily continued, smiling all the while.

After the hour of serenity, the house of chaos he walked into wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“Maybe my grades would be better if I wasn’t out fucking shooting up buildings!” Wilbur yelled way too loudly, and Tommy was glad he’d shut the door as quickly as he had, kicking his shoes off at the door. “Be so fucking glad I respect this organisation and my reputation, or I would be booting it into the sewers.”

“Tommy’s grades are great and he does more shit than you do!” Phil yelled back, and Tommy immediately grimaced, walking into the room with furrowed brows. Neither spared him a glance. “What happened to you, Wil? You used to be so good.” He finished almost wistfully, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, but the brunette immediately slapped it away, ignoring the pained look on Phil’s face as he did so.

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Tommy didn’t like hearing his brother swear, flinching as he took a careful step back, not entirely sure who to side with.

“Never compare your children! It’s fucking disgusting!”

“I don’t compare you guys, I love you both equally-“

“Equally my arse-“

“Stop!” Tommy shouted over them, and that finally made them pause, staring at him as he stood in the doorway, struggling to hold down his shivers at the icy glares sent his way. “Both of you are acting so fucking childish it’s pathetic!”

“But-“

“You’re just proving my point, Phil.” Tommy never called his dad by his first name out loud, mainly out of pure respect, reserving his first name only for his thoughts or times when Phil wasn’t showing him the same respect back. It seemed to hit a sore spot, because the man flinched, confusion and hurt written over his face. “Whatever you’re both arguing about, you should shut up and get over it! You chose to create this organisation, you chose to have no spare time to study or be at your children’s birthdays, so get over it and get on with stabbing whatever orphans you chose this weekend.”

And without waiting for an answer, Tommy rushed upstairs, leaving behind a stale silence that he didn’t bothering acknowledging, falling onto his bed with a sigh.

Apparently, Tubbo cried when he was angry; that’s what he’d said anyways.

Tommy wasn’t sure what he did when he was angry, but he sure knew what the emotion itself felt like, and he knew most people didn’t simply brush it off as a normal Friday evening and fall off to sleep with ease, letting the emotion simmer until it ultimately gave up.

For a moment, he wondered what Techno did when he was angry, but he pushed the thought away before he could entertain it, forcing his eyes shut until his mind drifted into the abyss.

—

Tommy knocked on the door, the same low voice calling him in as last time forcing him to turn the doorknob. After a moment, he slipped into the chair, keeping a frown on his face as Techno waited expectantly, clearly not a fan of starting emotional conversations despite his job.

“How-“ he started, biting his lip as he tried to push the question away. And yet, he’d been trying it all week, dodging past the longing stares and the tired eyes in favour of going on walks or calling Tubbo. The thought kept returning as the anger simmered away. Phil had never liked stupid questions, constantly scolding him when he asked something he should know the answer to.

But how would he know the answer to this? He didn’t know Techno, not enough anyways.

Was it a stupid question? He knew Phil would say so.

“How do you deal with anger?” He asked anyways, fighting away the anxiety sitting in his head with a sigh to release any tension in his shoulders, keeping his legs still and his face even.

Tommy expected many things in reply; maybe a laugh and a ‘I don’t feel anger, you’re on your own kiddo’, or maybe a ‘don’t be stupid you should know’.

However, he never would’ve guessed the man would genuinely reply. “I do fencing in my spare time, helps release any pent up emotions, a friend recommended it when I was still in school.” He explained, and Tommy forced his face to stay apathetic, keeping just how baffled he was in his nagging mind. When Techno looked up at him, plucking his glasses from his face and twisting them in his hands, that strange sense of safety returned. “Why do you ask?”

Now, Tommy had many options.

He could lie; say he was angry at his friend Tubbo who stole his sandwich at lunch that day.

He could stay silent; a safe option, it would risk not leaking any information about anything.

He could go on a ramble about moths again; now that one was certainly tempting, moths were certainly interesting.

However, he did none of these things, and did one thing that was so foreign to his tongue it made his fingers twitch.

“My brother and Dad had a fight on Friday and brought me into it, it just pissed me off I guess.”

He told the truth.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d told the truth so easily and without an ounce of consideration, telling the truth wasn’t in his plans at all! And yet, the words were forced out of him as easily as a river flows. And Techno simply hummed, writing something down on a post-it-note.

“How do you usually deal with strong emotions?” He asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the kid who frowned, looking at the ground in thought.

“I don’t feel strong emotions.” Was what he finally decided on, and that seemed to shock the other a little more than expected.

“What about that anger you were just on about?” He asked, a little baffled and clearly a little joking, yet there was a genuineness to his tone that made Tommy falter. Now that was where he drew the line. Tommy didn’t falter, he didn’t stumble amidst a fight or shake when he he held a gun, and he certainly didn’t start to like the idea of being listened to for once by someone who seemed horrendously trust-worthy.

“That-“ he started, shaking his head as he tried to force his mouth firmly shut, but it seemed his brain had other plans, “That feels normal at this point, that anger that I felt is just how I always feel, it’s natural I guess.”

The room fell into a strange silence, with Tommy clamping his hand over his mouth and Techno thinking in a quiet consideration.

“Do I have your permission to ask a possibly sensitive question?” Techno asked after the moment stretched on too long, and Tommy found himself blinking in confusion, pulling his hand away from his mouth as he slowly nodded. Techno cleared his throat, “What was your childhood like?”

The way Tommy froze was likely answer enough.

Tommy remembers the joy he felt as Phil gave him his first knife for Christmas when he was 5, and Wilbur’s giddy chuckles were enough to make him treasure it. Phil had also bought him a dummy to practice on, and he made sure to spend any spare time he had on mastering the arts of wielding a knife.

He remembers hearing a muttered promise as he drifted off to sleep, he was four at the time and had woken from a nightmare.

‘Whatever the cost, I will always protect you.’ Phil had whispered when he assumed Tommy had fallen asleep; but a four-year-old who’d just witnessed a murder because of an attempt on his own life never drifted off easily.

And that was… it. Anything else from before he was seven, he didn’t have any recollection of it.

However, he felt the dread in his stomach, the feeling of blood on his fingertips and noticed how his legs had started to shake despite no pressure being applied to them at all.

Those sweet memories apparently didn’t mean much to Tommy’s mind, despite how much joy he looked back on them with.

“Honestly?” He asked, Techno nodding encouragingly. “I don’t know.”

“You froze when I mentioned it.” The man pointed out, and Tommy frowned, forcing his leg to stop bouncing before the other noticed that too. “It can’t have been great.”

“I remember that I was loved, and I was safe, and I remember about two memories before the age of 7.” He confessed, his attempts at stopping the words flowing almost completely gone already with the knowledge he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the calm atmosphere, maybe it was the genuinely interested expression on Techno’s face, or maybe it was the painting of a polar bear that was hung on the wall staring into his soul and commanding he let out all his secrets. Whatever it was, Tommy couldn’t manage to fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Why before 7?” He asked, and Tommy paused, staring into his eyes with something uncertain. This time, not even his body willed him to speak, which Tommy was ever thankful for. “You don’t have to tell me, you’re not obliged to.”

“Why do you speak like that?”

“Speak like what?”

“Obliged,” he mocked, trying and failing to mimic the man’s extremely small smile, “Permission.” He expressed, and the man’s hands moved in front of his mouth, a questioning look on his face, “They are very strange words.”

“Would you rather me say ‘need’ and ‘allowed’?” He asked cautiously, clearly asking a question that Tommy somehow didn’t catch, sighing with a soft smile that said ‘you are so fucking dumb it hurts me’.

“I would rather you talk to me like the child I am,” he explained, deciding that this was a lesson well worth teaching the other, “I don’t get a chance to choose, you don’t need ‘permission’ from me, and I am obliged, that’s my entire point of being here, to listen to what adults tell me to do without a second thought.”

The room was silent, and Tommy sighed, frowning at the strange expression on the man’s face.

“What? The honest truth too much for you to handle?”

“Tommy.” He started, the boy humming, partially keen to hear how he’d learned his lesson. “Tommy you-“ he paused, thinking over his words carefully and making Tommy pause with him, fear returning ever so slightly. “Who told you that?”

“I-“ he started, clamping his mouth shut in favour of glaring at Techno. The man sounded and looked a little insane, thought Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t consider dying his hair pink after their first session (he ultimately decided it wouldn’t look good for his villain brand).

“As a human, you’re entitled to respect, do you know what that means?” He asked, and the question seemed… foreign, in a way. Usually, questioned worded as such were said with such malice and scolding he was forced to say yes and agree; but Techno asked it so honestly, genuine concern written beneath his words.

“No?”

Tubbo had probably said it once, but then again Tubbo said many things.

“Respect means to regard other people’s feelings, opinions, emotions, and so on,” he explained, and Tommy frowned, tilting his head to the side in questioning. “For example, if you told me you didn’t want to eat mint ice cream, I wouldn’t force you to eat it, because i’m taking your feelings into regard, does that make sense?”

The concept made sense, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

Wilbur had explained it as such; the world doesn’t give you love, so why love it? Why, if the world was going to destroy you, should you not destroy it first?

“I- kind of?” He tried, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them, pulling his arms around his legs. “But who respects people? Do you respect people?”

“I do, I respect everyone who respects me,” Techno explained, “And sometimes even those who don’t respect me.”

Tommy frowned even further.

“Why?”

Techno hummed for a moment, tapping his pen on his desk in thought.

“Who’s your closest friend?”

“Tubbo.” Tommy replied immediately, no hesitation, and Techno smiled as if he’d won the lottery (in the Technoblade smile books anyhow).

“Okay, so imagine if Tubbo did something terrible, and he made you feel really sad.” It sounded as if he was a toddler, but again Tommy didn’t comment. “But then he apologised and showed he was really regretful of his actions, what would you do?”

After a quick moment of thought, Tommy replied, “Forgive him.”

“Right. But would you have to forgive him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied just as quickly and just as confidently, and was only confused when Techno paused, his onslaught of questions coming to a halt. So, he decided to explain his opinion, maybe he would finally agree with something he said. “It’s not good to hold grudges, and if I forgive them it makes them happier, and I want Tubbo to be happy.”

The room stayed silent, and Tommy decided it would be best to stay quiet, watching the other closely as he looked across the room, a lost look in his eyes.

“Can I give you some homework, Tommy?”

At the prospect, he scoffed. “Therapy homework? Seriously Technoblade, you’ve fallen to a new low big man.”

“Your therapy homework this week is to not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Techno said it with such seriousness he couldn’t argue, slowly nodding. “Set boundaries, and if Tubbo comes and says he’s murdered your cousin don’t immediately forgive him.”

“If Tubbo committed murder he would have a damn good reason to do so.”

“Tommy.”

“Right, therapy homework, boundaries, learn respect, got it.”

Techno leaned back in his chair, and despite it all, Tommy found himself doing the same, enjoying the calm environment far more than he probably should.

Maybe he could get used to this.

They spoke about raccoons for the rest of the session, and Tommy felt a determination burning in his chest as he strolled down the hallway, waving goodbye to the receptionist lady.

The determination was a foreign feeling; it wasn’t the determination to make his father proud of him, or to be better than his brother, but rather to make him proud of himself.

And maybe, it all started with Technoblade.

//////——————////////

There was so much more i wanted to write but this shit was getting long and my heart is playing up again, so uh, bedrock bros :D

Hope yall enjoyed, yknow if you somehow managed to read the entire thing I sure hope you didn’t waste your time LMAO

Ily all <3

[crimson-phantom-designs]

More info on my modern au called Sweet Tooth.

Francis Osman is the leader of the Turkish Mafia in Western Europe. Fleeing Turkey years back, he established a brutal reputation as some of Europe's most sadistic gangsters. For now, Francis and his gang are keeping a low profile due to someone close to him flipping with Interpol, which resulted in something devastating he swore to never experience again. Whilst this, they are in conflict with the Clerkenwell crime syndicate, otherwise known as 'the torture gang'. An equally malicious mob of smugglers who, since the Turkish Arifs took over London's underworld scene, their battle for territory has come close to an all-out war. What with this recent development crippling all of their profits, they are trying to strangle Francis' hold on the area and take over.

Francis is tearing through the backroads of London in his cherished Porsche to meet with his underboss Verrill Özdemir "Demi" who orchestrated a Comission with the surrounding heads to try and prevent a gang war at a time no one can afford it. He's looking for an out, maybe. Or a way to funnel money in a more advantageous way to get profits 📈 again under federal scrutiny.

He might have found both options in a happenstance encounter with a man and his spunky 13 year old at the park over his need for speed and a damn candy bar, but which one will he choose? An out for himself with this man or will he burn the man's life down to reestablish his crew through manipulation, taking piece by piece, because 'it's just business'...

This is a previously established Jacob Marley/Ebenezer Scrooge au (they were more closer in age here cause, eh)

Jacob and Ebenezer had adopted a young girl from a tragic situation shortly after marriage and raised her when Jacob died in a fatal car accident with Eb's sister Jan seven years ago due to coming to the aid of someone Eb still despises for taking so much from them, even if the loss sent him a revelation in life. Eb has a fear of car accidents taking more from him, which is why he drives so slowly, especially with Beryl.

The story is a SMAU which means it will be written, but with these post, Instagram and text conversations in between with artwork for photos.

Handles below, and the differences in personality are amusing. Francis' just kills me. These Hands. Eb is just lonely and secretly pines, even if he's given up trying to find love again and pours that into his besotted devotion to Beryl but he does gripe politics and talk bitchy about his competitors. Bob is just here for support and to follow news facts and nature groups. He takes pictures from his timeshare cabin alot(even if Eb bitches it's a scam) and is insufferable about outdoorsy events with the family. Eventually the man will move them to the woods to be one with nature, I swear. XD More characters have handles but these are the main ones seen.

Being Francis would absolutely NOT use his full name or have a public account for liability reasons, he would be creative. His account is mainly to lurk other accounts(mafia modernized) and keep updated on current events. People that follow him are in his inner circle or he's baiting them to think they are.

The Oz is a reference to yes the Wizzard of Oz because of course he would see himself that way. XD

He's the man behind the scenes running everything. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!

@rom-e-o @sasha-geonn

Below are some examples of what they post before they meet.

[gemmahale]

7 Sins Bookstore + Cafe AU

Y'know what? I never shared the universe for 7 Sins Bookstore - my Vampire/Mafia 141 AU. Captain Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Laswell + OC's and friends

(It's still very much in progress, so things have changed since the first iteration. These are the notes I have noodling).

Seven Sins Bookstore and Cafe is warm and cozy inside - a maze of bookshelves filled with tomes and little reading nooks tucked throughout on one side, and on the other, a bustling cafe with delicious food, hot beverages, wine tastings and room for groups to congregate. But in the basement, beyond an unassuming office door, lies the real purpose of the institution. That’s where the real deals are made, where blood is ordered to be spilled, and pacts signed in indelible hemoglobin-based ink. 

The OC's:

Journalist is covering a series of murders in town after uncovering a huge crime syndicate *adjacent* to 141. (Doesn’t uncover them, but colleagues - Shadow Coven?). Unintentionally finding herself way too close to the 141.

Researcher is working on identifying a series of artifacts found on a building site just outside city limits. (Surprise, they’re vampire-related.) She brings images into the café and is also rummaging in the antique book section repeatedly. Hauls in textbooks and manuscripts, citing “the coffee helps her think��. 

Barista Manager just works at the shop and is there for a paycheck. Doesn’t ask questions, gets on hired staff for asking too many. Unintentional ally for the mafia; incredible plausible deniability of their activities without realizing it.

Author just wants a break into murder mystery. Spends most evenings with a glass of wine and her notebook/laptop, scribbling away furiously. Asks the 141 some of the most unhinged questions during quiet hours when she finds out their (sanitized) history.

Auntie/Kiddo team - come in for cookies and books on Saturdays - the kid gets a hot chocolate, she gets a mocha (kiddo calls it adult hot chocolate). Interactions are darling with the kiddo. (tbd link into the mobster shit - she gets embroiled on accident though)

[regular-human-being]

UPDATE: "You've got guts to spill (but no one trustworthy)" notes masterpost

Fic linked here!!!

Original masterpost

Here's an update for "You've got gut to spill (but no one trustworthy)" aka My ctntduo/sbi vampire au, because we've finally reached a chapter that has the sbi in it, and I there are a few things that never made it into the fic but I still thought of so you get to read them too!!

The Syndicate (coven)

• The Syndicate coven was formed around three hundred years ago, with Philza and Technoblade being the first two members.

• Current day, The Syndicate coven is spread out in many different towns/cities/counties. They're not as strict as other covens, when it comes to having all of their members living under one roof/in the same town.

• However, the main house where the sbi live is roughly in the centre of where the rest of the coven is spread out (like a spiderweb). Philza, Techno, and Tommy all live together in this house. Other close members (to the sbi themselves) live nearby.

• They live roughly an hour away from the Las Nevadas casino.

_____

Tommy

• He was turned at sixteen, and whilst he has physically and maturely aged slightly in the just over four-hundred years that he's been a vampire, he still has a lot of the characteristics/mannerisms from when he was that age; which is why people assume he's the youngest of the group.

• He was not turned by Phil. Instead, Phil and Techno found him when he was on his own (having never been in a coven).

• He can turn into a raccoon.

• Due to a raccoon being his animal, he naturally has sharpened nails/claws, which make him the best at climbing; out of the sbi.

_____

Technoblade

• Technoblade was turned in some time into his mid-twenties (he doesn't remember). He is the youngest out of the three, at around three-hundred years old. Despite this, he doesn't treat Tommy with the same respect that he would a vampire more than a few decades older than him.

• Before he was turned, he lived in a small village as was a vampire hunter. This was until he was turned as was run out of the village.

• He lived alone in seclusion for about a year, until he met Phil and they started living together. Eventually, they decided to start a coven together, which turned into The Syndicate.

• His animal is a boar, and he can turn into a bi-peal one (think of actual cTechno)

_____

Philza

• (Unsurprisingly) He is the eldest out of the three vampires, at close to seven hundred years old.

• It is still a mystery as to who turned him into a vampire, but some of the other coven members believe that he may have always been one; due to his age.

• He has large crow wings, which he can use for flight. He is able to hide them for convenience, but often doesn't because it makes him more intimidating.

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

*sounds of a massive stampede* wn superhero au???? *blurry eyes emoji* beatrice lightning powers, ava frankenstein esque creature, lilith fire & claws, mary & camilla as batman, ga types, and shannon as superman type???? omfg all of this sounds so damn cool, i almost wanna put my fist through a wall but in like the best & most excited of ways (<- might just be a little obsessed w comics and superheroes)

pls do elaborate all about it, and on how ava does gain her powers 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Bestie, you're really to blame for all of this because you put the seed in my head, so here we go.

What I'm imagining is a scenario where superheroes have been around long enough to receive some amount of regulation. Superhero teams largely act independently but are beholden to government bodies and have to abide by certain special laws. I'm picturing Supreme Court cases and federal bills outlining hero jurisdictions, how heroes are allowed to investigate crimes, and how the court system handles superhero activity (is evidence found by a superhero admissible? Do heroes have to respect Miranda rights? etc. etc. Including variations based on country of origin, so Spain's laws will be different from America's etc. etc.).

People who have superpowers have to register themselves with their local hero agency and either join up or sign a binding agreement not to use their powers. Violators are considered criminals and the local agency and hero team are responsible for apprehending them. Heroes can and often do use secret identities, and the law has a long list of rules for what they can and can't do out of costume, but some choose to hero full-time and have their living expenses covered by their local agency.

So you have your generic comic book city (I guess it could be Malaga or Madrid but idc) and the local hero team is the OCS, one of the most well-known. They've been around since the first generation of heroes revealed themselves to the public, and are currently led by Suzanne, a hero who retired after an ~incident~ 12 years prior 👀 and now oversees the current team, which includes all of our girls.

Ava is still in St. Michael's and quadriplegic after she and her mom were caught in the crossfire of a hero-villain fight 👀👀 and became collateral damage. Her mom died but she was found alive. There was and is an active media initiative to downplay the damage caused by superhero activity, and the hospital was given financial incentives to keep this seven-year-old alive at any cost so they could claim as few civilian casualties as possible. Horrible, disgraceful, and Ava rightfully holds some resentment towards superheroes even though she is glad to be alive.

The OCS girls are as follows:

Shannon (Star Girl) is a Superman-esque alien who arrived on earth and quickly became the most famous hero worldwide for her incredible abilities. Her powers include: flight, super strength, x-ray vision, ocular beam projection (laser eyes), and invulnerability to everything except divinium. Suzanne recruited her almost immediately after she revealed herself and she quickly became the face of the OCS. She helped recruit all of the other girls into the team, and she led most of their missions prior to her death (sorry, yeah, Shannon doesn't get to live in this one, not unless you do it like real comic books).

Mary (she has a hero name built in lmao, Shotgun Mary): is a human without any specific powers apart from being a badass with guns. Unlike canon, she can actually fight well hand-to-hand, but she's a master at all things firearms and explosives. She gives very mild Punisher vibes but it's mostly aesthetic. She was a vigilante who met Shannon by chance while taking down some crime syndicate or other, and Shannon convinced her to join up with the heroes. She often seems out of place among the OCS but she is invaluable to the team.

Beatrice (Maelstrom): is a human with control over lightning and electricity in general. She got these powers in an accident where a bunch of electricity was channeled through an alien space rock (maybe divinium) and she touched it. She was already on the outs with her family by this time, who basically told her to go die being a hero to elevate their family name. She was really angry and reckless when she joined the OCS, but Shannon and the others helped her overcome that. Now, she's a hero in good standing and loved by the public.

Lilith (Morningstar): a hybrid of human and uhhhhhhhhhh (?????) who controls fire and can grow claws (and wings eventually). She doesn't really know how or why she got her powers, only that they manifested suddenly in her teens and her parents also coerced her into becoming a hero. Suzanne took her in and trained her for several years before letting her officially join the team, so she still feels a lot of pressure to be the best and a leader, just not because of a family legacy.

Camila (Gambit): a human like Mary who is just more badass than normal. She's a prodigy at archery as well as a technical genius and hacker. Suzanne finds her trying to hack into the OCS computer system and immediately hires her. She's the newest member of the team and doesn't go out in the field often because she's still learning to fight, but her tech skills are often mission-critical.

So what happened to Shannon? This is where Ava comes in, along with the two scenarios where she gets her powers. Scenario 1: Frankenstein Classic. Shannon disappears on a solo mission to investigate some villain activity in the city, and winds up getting killed by Vincent/Adriel. They take her body to some secret lab along with Ava, who they might have bought from St. Michael's on the DL in exchange for more funding. Disgusting, and then it gets worse. They want to create a superhuman they can control for villainous purposes, and they do it by cutting off parts of Shannon's body and attaching them to Ava. We're talking limbs, guts, spine, one of her eyes, everything. Part of Shannon's alien biology is the ability to assimilate with foreign tissue as a survival tactic, so her bits just sort naturally graft themselves on, leaving only lines of scar tissue where the two ends meet. A consequence of this is Ava getting Shannon's powers to some extent.

Scenario 2: Frankenstein John Carpenter Edition. The OCS goes up against Adriel in a fight, and Ava (for whatever reason) gets caught in the crossfire again and dies. Shannon dies at the same time however, probably from a divinium bomb, and her body lands on Ava's. Alien biology comes back but Even Worse, and Shannon's blood (and probably CSF and other fluids too) basically becomes its own entity, oozing out of her corpse to occupy the closest organic mass and mount a full hostile takeover. So Ava comes back to life as her body is forcibly converted from human to alien.

No matter what scenario you pick, it's bad for her, because she either has to fight her way out of a mad scientist's lab using limbs that aren't hers, or she wakes up alone in the aftermath of the battle with no idea what's going on. To say nothing of the OCS being devastated by Shannon's death. Big Oof imagining them in scenario 1 finding Shannon's butchered body missing so many pieces. And when they find out later where those pieces are? It's bad, it's really bad.

They have to bring Ava in, which is fucked because Shannon was the world's most famous hero for a reason and now all of her power is in the hands of a scared 19-year-old who doesn't trust superheroes. Just finding her is a pain in the ass, and then they have to get close enough to incapacitate her. It probably winds up being Bea's job, which creates some excellent tension and mistrust for them to work through later.

That's what I've got so far in my slow contemplation!

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 3: Sex, Drugs & Toxic Affiliations

ch. 1 | ch. 2 chapter word count: 13k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba-

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Gojo sits at the center of the Table of 15 Families, a massive circular structure of a table that’s white statuary marble flat is intricately polished and lined with small bronze and silver squares. It’s a place that only each of the leaders of the Tokyo families can touch, and an emergency meeting between all the clans had been called due to Toji’s uprising with a third of the Zenin clan’s men.

He leans back in the uncomfortable chair made of similar materials as the table, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares across the room at the family leaders currently seated at the table – most of which are from lower rank clans, of course. He usually appreciates them for their their timeliness; as the higher-ranked Zenin, Kamo, Inumaki, and Fujiwara clan leaders were always fashionably late; but today he’s pissed. And understandably so, as his home as well as the entirety of the Tokyo Yakuza had been threatened.

Gojo taps his pointer finger on his opposite bicep out of impatience, currently dressed in a black dress shirt, black slacks, and black combat boots. It’s the kind of yakuza getup that mostly serves one purpose – concealing blood stains.

Geto sits at his side in the 2nd rank seat, arms similarly crossed but eyes closed as both him and his friend had not gotten any sleep since they’d dropped Riku off at the Ozaki residence. They’d been up working, of course, designing a plan to retaliate against Toji and the Zenin clan. Though Toji had gone off the grid and was unable to be found in the early hours of the morning, at least not by their folks, Gojo and Geto had decided to take action and wasted no time using the strength of their clans to stage and carry out attacks on the Zenin clan’s properties.

Just then, the Zenin clan leader, Naobito – who had shoulder-length gray hair and a pointed mustache, storms their meeting room in a fit of rage. Geto opens his eyes, narrowing them at the man currently entering.

Gojo smirks to the look on his face. At least he has the Zenin leader’s anguish to be happy about.

“Three warehouses?!?!!” Naobito wears an ivory kimono and black hakama, screaming the words as he approaches Gojo.

Gojo and Geto’s retaliation had come in the form of destroying three of the seven warehouses where the Zenin clan built and stored the illegal weapons they sold, just a few short hours ago. With the entire Tokyo Yakuza syndicate outraged by last night’s attack, it was fairly easy for Gojo and Geto to band their forces together and burn the warehouses to the ground. Gojo rises from his seat, wickedly grinning at Naobito as the older man strides directly to him.

Naobito grabs handfuls of Gojo’s black shirt, balling it up as he grits his teeth at the other, “How fucking dare you! You’re going to pay for this!!!” He spits between clenched teeth.

Gojo easily pushes the man a few steps back with a single movement of his muscular arms, then returns them to their crossed state, still smirking but expression brimming with anger, “What? Did you think I would just stand by while a third of your men destroy my property?” He leans over a bit so he is eye-level with the man, facial expression turning into one of hardened rage, “You really think I wouldn’t make you all pay for that?”

“That wasn’t our doing – it was Toji’s, you bastard! Those factories and facilities will take months to restore!!!” Naobito explains, angered but simultaneously aware of Gojo’s power… He doesn’t want to upset the man even more than he already is.

Gojo is able to calm down just slightly at Naobito’s words, shrugging, “Not my problem. If you’d kept Toji and your men under control, none of this would’ve happened. Plus, how do I know this isn’t some scheme of your clan to destroy me?”

Naobito has no sufficient answer and turns with a grunt, moving to sit in the 3rd rank seat on the other side of Geto, “You disrespectful, piece of shit…” He grumbles under his breath.

“You’ve got a lotta nerve, Naobito… Seeing how every clan in this room was impacted by what members of your clan did last night.” Geto joins the conversation, pissed and sleep deprived. He wears a deep brown suit and white button-up, the toned muscles of his back and arms just barely contained by the expensive fabric that is noticeably dusted with the black ash of explosives they’d used to destroy Naobito’s warehouses.

“Where’s Toji?” The only other white-haired yakuza enters the room and takes a seat in the 6th rank chair. He’s much younger than most in the room as he’s only 21 years old, and is a bit shorter than most as well. His hair that usually has small spikes in it is currently in a straight, bowl cut – his choice of high-end streetwear over a suit especially telling to his age. The inumaki clan business consists of finding, controlling, and selling insider information regarding any and all business trading markets, politics, and even celebrity relationships in Tokyo.

“Long time, so see, Toge.” Gojo smiles, returning to his seat at the table once more.

“We don’t know.” Naobito answers as honestly as he can, “We’ve been tracking him for hours and still, nothing. We’re still looking.”

Not acknowledging Gojo, Toge glares at the Zenin leader in silence for a moment, then speaks up again, “He’s telling the truth, unfortunately.” He concludes with a sigh. It’s one thing he’s sure of as he’s dealt with liars his entire life.

“Well, you better find him quick. I have personal business with that man and would like to see him dead.”

The clan leaders currently seated turn their heads as Jin Ozaki speaks, entering the room in a tan suit and buzz cut. He’s the last member to join them, and sits down in the 10th rank chair, noticeably angered and stressed by this predicament, “Sorry I’m late. It appears that Toji has gotten in contact with my niece this morning via phone.”

All eyes around the table widen to this information, and Gojo and Geto exchange a look.

“Do you have her phone?” Noritoshi Kamo speaks up from his 5th rank chair – leader of the clan that deals in illegal tech and machinery. He wears a long, black kimono with gold embroidery.

Jin retrieves a black iPhone from his pocket and slides it across the table to Noritoshi, “Got it from her before I left home.”

Noritoshi slips the phone into the sleeve of his kimono, “We’ll do what we can to trace the location of where the call came from. Toji’s actions are unacceptable and he must be killed for the atrocities he continues to commit.”

“I’m sorry, your daughter?” The Okamoto family leader, Haruki, asks from his 12 rank seat – an older man in a gray suit who leans forward to this information that’s new to him. The Okamoto clan directs the black market of car trading, racing, and illegal car importing in Tokyo.

“Yes, seems like she got in some trouble with Toji last night and hit him where it hurts.” Jin clears his throat.

“That’s one way to put it.” Gojo chuckles.

“Where is she now?” Geto asks.

“Working.” Jin replies plainly, “We still have businesses to run, but I’ve hired more men to protect her in the meantime. And I doubt Toji is dumb enough to strike in broad daylight.”

A few around the table make noises of agreement, and there’s silence for a moment.

“I did receive a written message an hour ago, about Toji’s demands…” Noritoshi admits.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before, fucking geezer?!” Gojo asks, irritated, “The fuck does he want?”

“100 million…” Naobito says, deciding to ignore Gojo's name-calling this time around before moving his gaze to Jin, “…and he says he’ll cease his attacks for a week, if we hand him your niece.”

A rage brews in Jin Ozaki and he’s hardly able to contain it, hands shaking for a second, “You expect me, to give away my family…?!!” His hands tighten into fists on the flat of the table.

“I’m just repeating the message I received. And if less attacks mean less people being hurt or kille-”

“Then, what? My niece’s life is worth it?!?!!”

“That’s not an option.” Gojo interrupts, strangely calm, “Plus, a week is hardly any time. That offer is honestly just disrespectful to your family’s worth, Jin.”

“So what do we do now?” Haruki Okamoto questions outright.

“Well, that’s what we’re here for.” Gojo smirks before glancing over at his friend, “Geto and I have a plan.”

*

Riku sits across from two of her best friends, Nobara and Maki, who always had lunch together on Fridays at one of their favorite cafés that was locationally at the center of all three of their workplaces in the city. She’d told Maki and Nobara what happened with Toji the night prior, including that he’d called and threatened her this morning.

“Oh, so that’s why you didn’t pick up earlier…” Maki nods to herself, a bit stunned from hearing this information.

“Mhm.” Riku finishes her bite of the mixed greens salad she’d ordered before responding, “Got a new one on my way to work, though,” she retrieves it from her purse and unlocks it before placing it on the wooden table between the three of them, “so put your numbers in please.”

Nobara is in complete shock, “Are you insane?” She asks with a horrified expression on her face, her fork of fluffy cheesecake poked in Riku’s direction, “You kicked Toji in the balls?!” Nobara picks up Riku’s phone, regardless, beginning to navigate to her contacts.

Maki shrugs, “I mean, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it,” she takes a sip of her iced green tea.

“See? Maki gets it.” Riku smirks, “But then again, you are the baby of our group.”

Nobara rolls her eyes, ��I’m only two years younger than you both… 23 is not that young, okay!”

“Oh, and you’re still an idiot, Riku – I’m just saying I get why you did that.” Maki says, taking the phone from Nobara once the other is finished entering her number and beginning to do the same.

“Yeah, like, do you want to die?!” Nobara shouts.

Riku shushes her, holding a finger to her mouth as there were other patrons in the café, and Nanami was only seated a few tables away, sipping from a mug of black coffee. She glances across the room, only to find that the blond man’s eyes were still trained on her. She sighs dramatically, “Ugh, he’s so annoying…” She trails off.

Maki follows Riku’s gaze to find Nanami at the other end of it, then turns back to her once more, “I’m guessing Jin upped your protection as a result?”

“Yeah,” Riku groans, dropping her head into her hands, “there’s even three of our muscle outside.”

“Yikes. And the guards follow you everywhere?” Nobara leans in, asking in a quieter voice.

Riku drops her hands from her face, sitting upright once more, “Yes. Kento even stood outside the door when I used the bathroom at work earlier.”

“Ew.” Maki says plainly, “That seems excessive.”

“That’s what I said!” Riku whisper-yells.

“Maybe it isn’t, I mean you’ve all heard the news, right? Gojo destroyed a bunch of the Zenin clan’s property in retaliation this morning, so they kind of have every right to be angry with Gojo and anyone seen with him – i.e. you.” Nobara says just above a whisper as she stares directly at Riku.

Maki jumps in, “Well, they don’t have every right, but since Riku humiliated Toji like that, I can understand why him and his men would be after her.”

Riku’s eyes light up when she recalls an important bit of last night’s story that she hadn’t told her friends yet. She suddenly grins, leaning in and lowering her voice when she speaks up again, “You won’t believe what happened before Satoru and Suguru took me home, though.”

“Oh my god, what?” Nobara mirrors Riku’s expression, grinning back at her with intrigue.

Riku glances between her two friends with her next words, “So we stopped somewhere to eat on the way back because I was hungry, right?”

“Mhm,” Maki nods along.

“And so, we went to Chinatown and had this really good dim sum and roasted duck, but these guys were being super secretive about shit and kept, like, whispering to each other mid-conversation, and even left me completely alone at the table at one point to meet in some room in the back of the restaurant,”

“…okay,” Maki says, nodding to the waiter who sets a plate with her ham and cheese croissant sandwich down on the table before departing to help another party.

“Probably were planning the clan revenge shit.” Nobara adds, taking a bite of her cheesecake.

“and so obviously I had to go see what they were up to.” Riku explains.

“You didn’t, but sure,” Maki takes a bite of her sandwich while Nobara nods in agreement.

“And so, they caught me snooping around…” Riku clears her throat, speaking her next words just above a whisper, “…and one thing led to the next and, Suguru kind of ate me out while Satoru talked me through it.” She finishes, shyly looking down and scratching the back of her head.

Maki chokes on her sandwich with a loud cough, hitting her chest a few times before she’s able to swallow and then speaks again, “Bitch-”

Nobara stops eating and her jaw drops, “You’re fucking kidding me. Wait – both of them were there?! At the same time?!?!” She whispers the questions.

Riku nods, biting her bottom lip to hold back a grin.

“How did you…?!” Maki starts, then stops herself, “Riku, bitch…” she pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “now why the hell would you get mixed up with those two in that way, of all people?!!”

“I know, I know, they’re big, scary, dangerously powerful guys—”

“The biggest, scariest, most dangerously powerful yakuza in Tokyo!” Nobara jumps in, clarifying Riku’s statement.

“—but they’re also so hot.” Riku whines out.

“Well, yeah, but still – are you fucking crazy?!” Maki whispers, now fully understanding Nobara’s point of view from earlier in their conversation.

Riku inhales slowly before speaking, “They’re not so bad. To be honest, I think they’re a bit overrated when it comes to the whole scary thing. I mean, these are the same guys who’re trying to keep peace between the clans! Doesn’t having the ability to be extremely scary and powerful kinda come with the job description?”

Maki sighs, “Yes, but getting caught between those two also means you getting stuck in all their yakuza drama, violence, and craziness… You do know that, right?”

Riku pauses for a few seconds, breaking her gaze to look up in thought, “Yeah, I can see how that could be a bad thing.” She grits her teeth at her next thought, and Nobara immediately catches on.

“Fuck, Riku. What else?” Nobara asks, perplexed.

“I kind of might have a date with Suguru tonight at his clan’s onsen…?” She winces as she says the words, returning her gaze to her friends.

“Bitch…” Nobara drops her fork entirely, allowing it to clatter onto the wooden table. She runs both of her hands through her short, ginger hair, visibly stressed, “Drug lord Suguru, of all people?! I almost would’ve preferred if you said Satoru, but apparently that guy’s really insane.”

Riku smiles, “Suguru’s so sweet, though! At least from what I can tell so far. He’s a total gentleman; and you’re right, Satoru is kind of an egotistical asshole and talks a lot of shit. But he’s also not so bad.”

“Takes one to know one.” Maki notes, taking another bite from her sandwich.

Riku chuckles lightly, “Please, I’m not that bad! Confident, sure, but you don’t get anywhere in our world without that – it’s the bare minimum for survival.”

Maki curves the corners of her lips down and cocks her head to one side in a contemplative look that says, ‘I hadn’t considered that before,’ “I guess you have a point.” She can agree with that, at least, “Just be really careful, alright? And call us if you need us.”

Riku runs a hand through her long curls, “I don’t even know how this bodyguard thing would work with me over there, and he doesn’t have my new number after the Toji shit that happened this morning, so who knows – maybe I won’t be able to go after all.”

Nobara claps a few times, “Yay!” She fake cheers, “This is your chance to escape the date and never talk to him or Satoru ever again!”

“Well, that’s not exactly realistic, but it could work temporarily.” Maki puts her sandwich down, “Who knows, maybe they’ll get preoccupied with all this yakuza clan craziness and forget you for a little.”

“I don’t know,” Riku slightly puts her hands up in mock-surrender, “I am a pretty memorable bitch.” She admits with a small grin.

*

“One, two, three and four… Five, six, seven, eight and…” Riku counts through the short routine she’d just spent the past hour teaching her last intermediate-advanced level pole class of the day, her hips and legs easily gliding through the slow sequence of turns, spins, and elevated holds. She continues to count even through the inverted moves, her upside down body only held in the air above the ground by her thighs’ grip on the pole or the strength of her arms. She solely wears a black sports bra and spandex shorts, as more skin allows her to hold herself up on the pole a lot easier. The routine ends with a pirouette around the pole and a reverse body roll, and when Riku is done, she turns back to face the six women on the individual poles behind her, “Are we ready to do it with music?”

The girls chorus a ‘yes,’ and Riku walks over to her bag in the front of the room, retrieving the new phone from her pocket to turn on some music, “Let’s do the routine a final time, then freestyle a little, okay? Now five, six, seven, eight…”

Riku allows herself to get lost in the music, taking her time with each movement as it’s a slow ballad, much unlike the faster paced hip hop and R&B songs she usually plays for her pole dancing classes. Her hips, back, and shoulders roll smoothly with every move she makes, a kind of ease that’s only earned with years of practice. Riku incorporates a bit of floor work into her freestyling near the end of the song, ending with a slide into a floor bridge. She pops onto her knees when the song finishes, applauding her students who join in to clap with her, “Nice work, ladies!”

It isn’t until after she sits up that she spots an additional figure standing next to Nanami just on the other side of the glass wall that splits the back of the pole room from the hallway—Geto. He wears a black suit and black gloves. Riku feels her face redden and removes her gaze from the man that had obviously been watching her, instead turning to walk back towards her duffle bag that has her sweats in it. She slips into the loose gray pants and matching long-sleeve crop top crewneck sweater, bending over to zip up her bag and step into her plain, green-colored cushioned slides.

As she exits the room, Riku waves to the group of ladies who are at various stages of putting back on their outerwear and shoes, “Thanks for coming! See you all next time.” She smiles, turning her attention to the long-haired man once she’s on the other side of the door, “Suguru? What are you doing here?”

“Here to pick you up for our date, of course.” He gazes down at Riku, offering her a wink.

Nanami sighs, obviously not thrilled about having to speak his next words, “There’s been an update, you’re staying in Suguru’s territory for a few days – Jin’s orders.”

Riku quirks a brow, “Suguru’s territory? Why? And wait, Uncle Jin decided this?”

“It was Satoru’s idea, actually. Jin just agreed.” Geto clarifies, smiling.

“As much as I hate the idea,” Nanami glares at Geto, “and I do fucking despise this idea,” he glances back to Riku, “it is the safest place for you to be right now. The Ozaki estate is too much of a hot spot and it’d be easy to hit… And Suguru’s clan is the only one with territory in Tokyo’s mountains that’s more difficult to get to with its elevation and web-like network of underground tunnels and roads. And he has a lot more muscle and trained guards who could protect you.”

Riku blinks up at Geto, “And why do you have a web of tunnels underneath your property?” Riku looks genuinely confused.

“Easier to ship product that way.”

Right, of course. Geto’s clan handles the underground drug market, underground in more ways than one it seems… Riku nods with understanding.

Geto turns to Nanami, “Don’t worry, Nanami,” he reaches out to tug Riku by her wrist, easily pulling her into his arm, “I’ll take good care of Riku.”

Riku blushes, a bit uncomfortable about the weird relationship triangle she currently finds herself in, “Well then, I guess I’ll see you in a few, Ken?” Geto releases Riku from his arm and she gives Nanami a hug.

Nanami hugs her back tightly, then grasps her chin after they let go of each other, staring down at Riku with an expression that contains a mix of concern, care, possessiveness, and unmistakably – love, “Call me if you need anything. Okay?” He says low, just loud enough that she can hear.

Riku nods.

“You ready, beautiful?” Geto asks, before taking the duffle bag from her hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Riku says, a little caught off guard by this recent turn of events, “wish I’d brought some clothes with me.”

“I’ll send some men to pick some stuff up for you.” He says, pressing his free hand to the small of her back as they pass the front desk and begin to approach the main entrance to the studio.

“Okay, but I don’t want a bunch of guys snooping through my underwear drawer. Do you have any ladies you can send?”

Geto chuckles, “I’ll send some ladies, then. Fair?”

Riku remembers something and turns to Nanami, “Oh, do you know if the wall remodeling guys finished upstairs?”

“They just left. Paint crew will be in tomorrow.” He replies, eyes not on Riku but instead glaring at the hand Geto has on her back.

“Thank god,” Riku sighs in relief, “I’ll be back tomorrow to check it out, okay?”

Nanami nods, folding his hands behind his back as he sees the two of them off when they exit the front door of the studio.

“Bye, Ken!” Riku waves, and Nanami returns the gesture.

Theres four men outside in similar black suits smoking cigarettes, and when Geto cocks his head towards the parking area they split into pairs, two of them each unlocking and entering the two identical dark gray BMW X5 SUVs on either side of a different car.

Riku figures that the car in the middle is Geto’s, as he clicks a button on his key and the trunk door lifts open for him to place her duffle. It’s an all-black Mercedes AMG G63, and Riku tries to contain her excitement as she’d always wanted to have a G-Wagon of her own, “Nice ride.” She notes, visibly perking up a bit.

“You like it?” Geto smirks at Riku, clicking the button once more so the trunk closes. He moves around the car, opening the passenger door and helping Riku into the seat, “It’s simple, but reliable.”

“If by simple you mean pricy, then yes.”

Geto chuckles as he closes her door, only responding when he slips in the drivers seat and starts the engine, “You think this is pricy? You sweet, summer, rank ten yakuza child.” He laughs.

Riku rolls her eyes, and their trio of cars pull out out of the dark side street, beginning to head toward Tokyo’s mountains.

Geto looks into his rear view mirror, shaking his head with a slightly apologetic look when he spots Nanami still watching them at a distance from outside the studio, until their SUVs are out of view, “Damn, he really loves you, huh?” Geto notes, “I kinda feel bad for the guy.”

“Don’t.” Riku says with a long breath, looking out the window at the passing street lights, “It’s not his fault that he feels that way about me, nor is it my fault that I don’t feel that way about him.”

Geto glances over, taking a good look at Riku before returning his eyes to the road, “It’s gotta suck for him, though.”

Riku meets Geto’s eyes briefly, “You think I don’t know that? That I don’t think about how it hurts him?”

There’s a beat of silence, and they both focus on the road ahead of them for a while.

“You two always just been friends? Nothing else ever happened?” Geto eventually asks.

“You ask all your dates shit like this?”

Geto chuckles, then shrugs, “Just curious. It’s not everyday you see a guy that love whipped for a girl he’s never been with.”

“We kissed once when I was tipsy,” Riku admits with a sigh, “I tried to have sex with him, too, but he stopped me. That was three years ago.”

Geto winces with a hint of a smirk on his lips, “Ooo, fuck, he’s a great guy. I mean I already knew he was, but damn.”

“It’s the bare fucking minimum.” Riku clarifies.

“True that,” Geto turns the truck onto a narrower street, following the SUV with the two guards in front of him onto the road that snakes up the mountain, “But it’s gotta suck. I mean imagine his point of view; you want this girl so fucking bad you’d do anything for her, and she usually never pays you any mind but all of a sudden she’s throwing herself at you. Of course you say no, but it’s still gotta sting like a motherfucker.”

Riku lifts her brows briefly before dropping them back down to their relaxed state, “Funny part is, I actually wasn’t that drunk.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

Geto glances at Riku with a small look of surprise, then back to the road, “No fucking way.” He grins, “So you actually wanted him that night?”

“Yeah. But don’t tell him that, though. You gotta promise me, okay?”

Geto frees one of his gloved hands from the steering wheel to cross an ‘X’ over his heart and lifts his hand in the air, “I swear, Ri. But fuck…” He laughs, “So all this time he’s thought you were drunk, but you really did want him, too? Oh, this is some tragic shit, Ri! This is my friend we’re talking about, here…”

“I know, but he can’t know.”

Geto nods once, “So let me get this straight – that night, you’re all over him, but he keeps pushing you away because he thinks you’re drunker than you really are?”

“Yeah, basically.” Riku sighs.

“That’s fucking heartbreaking!” Geto guffaws, “But what changed? Couldn’t you’ve just told him how you felt when you were sober?”

“After that night, I didn’t feel the same. We were friends and I didn’t wanna ruin that with sex or anything like that. I still don’t. Plus…” Riku trails off, unsure if she should say what she plans to say next.

“Plus?”

“Plus, to be honest, I knew I could never give him what he wanted – for me to love him back. I didn’t want to get his hopes up for something that was never going to happen.” Riku finishes.

“How do you know that for sure?”

“Know what?”

“That you could never love him?”

“I’ve fallen in love before, with different people and… You just know. I mean, don’t you?”

“Sure, I get what you mean,” Geto chuckles under his breath, “not really much of the romance type, though.” Geto admits, turning the wheel of the car smoothly, gently accelerating the car as they began to hit a steeper incline in the mountain.

“Really?” Riku asks, honestly surprised, “I mean I know what Satoru said about you both not doing the whole relationship thing, and I can definitely see him not being a romantic but, not you?”

Geto turns to look at Riku briefly, smirking lightly, “What makes you think I'm the romantic type?”

“Everything. The way you talk, your whole chivalry thing, the way you touch... Everything about the way you act, at least towards me, so far, has been pretty romantic.”

“You like that, don’t you?” Geto grins, returning his eyes to the road while reaching over to slide his hand over Riku’s thigh; he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s nice,” Riku admits with a small smile, glancing out the window, “But you’re not a romantic?” She turns back to Geto.

“Furthest thing from it, beautiful. I’m just really good at knowing how to make you feel good.”

“Me? I’m guessing all people you're trying to please at the moment are included in 'me?'” Riku questions.

Geto makes sure to look Riku in the eyes with the next of his words, hand pushing up her leg and to her inner thigh, “You’re the only one here, Ri.” Geto’s gaze is so straightforward and intimate that it would’ve tugged on Riku’s heartstrings if she was just a few years younger and still immature when it came to these things.

Riku suddenly breaks their shared heated gaze, chuckling a bit to herself, “Like that?”

“Just like that.” He confirms, looking back at the road with eyes completely devoid of the feigned emotions he’d acted out just moments prior.

“Wow,” Riku claps her hands a few times, genuinely impressed, “bravo. And that’s fun for you?”

“Sure. It allows me to be in control.” Geto replies, his tone a bit clinical.

“I can understand that. I mean it’s kinda fucking twisted, but in an unexpectedly sweet way.” Riku thinks aloud.

“I sell drugs, beautiful. Never promised anyone I was a good guy.”

“And that absolves you of responsibility for any hearts you may break in the process?”

Geto pauses, and makes an expression hinting that he may or may not have thought too hard on this prior to now, “It doesn’t.”

Riku doesn’t know if it’s an answer, or rather, an admission of guilt. She doesn’t ask for clarification about that, and instead asks a different question, “What about you and Satoru?”

Geto moves his hand from Riku’s thighs, sitting up as he returns it to the steering wheel. Touchy subject, huh? Riku thinks, wondering if he’s even aware of his body language in this moment, “Satoru Gojo is… a completely different monster.”

“No pun intended.” Riku adds.

Geto laughs, “Exactly.”

“But seriously, what’s the deal with you two?”

“Hmm… It’s hard to put in words but, I’d die a thousand times for Satoru.” Geto says, completely straight faced.

“So you love him?” Riku can’t help her curiosity.

Geto shakes his head, “That’s such a… bullshit, flimsy-ass word. What Satoru and I have goes much deeper-”

“In your opinion.” Riku interjects.

Geto laughs once, continuing to look at the road, “Ri, you don’t know fucking shit… Seriously.”

She raises her hands in mock-surrender, “Alright, so let’s go with your definition. But what does that mean for the two of you?”

“It means, we share everything that matters.”

“Fascinating answer.” Riku says, her tone of voice a bit dramatic but still completely honest in her response. She doesn’t know if she’s more or less confused by Geto’s answer, but ponders on it for a moment in silence, “Whew, this conversation deserves a drink. Maybe a good meal, too.”

“Baby, this is still the shallow end of it all.” Geto chuckles, slowing down their speed a bit as they reached a flattened peak in the the mountain. Suddenly, a large collection of buildings and their lights glow in the far distance; even in the bright light of the setting sun, Riku catches when they pass a few ‘onsen’ signs.

“Really?” Riku raises her brows.

“Really.” He smirks, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

Riku turns to Geto with an unconvinced look, “Is this an I’m-acting-nice-so-I-can-make-you-compliant-and-be-in-control-and-reap-the-benefits-of-that kinda thing or are you seriously asking me because you want me to have whatever I want for dinner?”

“Mostly the former,” Geto says honestly, pulling into a private, reserved and underground garage that is separate from the one his guards drive into, “but I also don’t wanna hear it from Jin if you don’t eat and enjoy your stay while you’re here with me, so the latter, too. And I do cook a little.”

“Okay.” Riku nods with a smile, satisfied with Geto’s answer, “I’m in the mood for… kaisendon.”

Geto laughs, “Of course you are. Kaisendon. That’s easy; I can do that.” When the gates open, they pull into a vast, 18-car garage with all rare, expensive, new, and old sports cars.

“What do you mean, ‘of course I am?’” Riku asks,

Geto parks the G-Wagon in the only open space, then gets out to open up Riku’s door for her, “You girls and your seafood.” He shakes his head, helping her down from the truck. Geto then pops the trunk.

“Mr. Geto.” Riku doesn’t see or hear the two girls approach until they’re already there, right behind her in matching black suits. She quickly turns around. One of the girls has light brown hair that’s in a high bun, and the other has a black, shoulder-length bob. It’s easy to tell that they’re twins.

“Hey Nanako, Mimiko,” Geto gestures to Riku, “this is Riku.”

“Hi,” Riku waves to the two girls and smiles brightly, to which they only glare at her in response. Jeez, what is it that makes young people hate me?!

“Ozaki family.” The girl with the bun concludes, as if Riku’s family name is a multiple choice answer on a quiz.

“Ding, ding, ding! That’s right, Nanako. Now, can you organize some girls to grab some of her clothes from her family estate? Riku’s going to be staying with us for a few days. Mimiko, I need to to get all the ingredients for kaisendon and get them in the fridge at my house.” Geto removes Riku’s duffle from the trunk, handing it to Mimiko, “and put this in one of the guest bedrooms. Got it?” Geto asks, closing the trunk. The G-Wagon’s horn sounds a few times when he locks it.

Nanako looks like she’s trying to fight back a look of annoyance, “Isn’t the Ozaki estate like, an hour from here one way?” Her eyes narrow at Riku.

“Yes, it is. That a problem?” Geto asks.

The girls immediately straighten up, facial expressions quickly snapping out of their previously annoyed states in sync, “No, sir.” They say at the same time.

“Good. Now get going.”

The girls immediately spin on their heels, walking in different directions.

“Nice to meet you…?” Riku says but the girls pay her no mind, already far off in the distance.

Geto turns to Riku, “Don’t mind them. They hate any women I bring over… especially when they’re pretty.” He pauses before asking his next question, “You ever been in a trap house, beautiful?”

Riku shakes her head.

“Didn’t think so. I have some business things to handle quickly so quick rules: One. Don’t touch anything. Two. Don’t talk to me or anyone unless I say you can. And three. Put on the mask when I tell you to. Understand?”

“Got it.”

“I need your word, Ri.” Geto says seriously, leaning down so that they’re nearly face-to-face and holding the sides of Riku’s face with his hands.

“You have my word.” Riku says, starting to feel a little anxious.

Geto continues to hold and study Riku’s face, then presses his lips to hers in a deep kiss. He controls their pace and doesn’t pull away until he feels the tension begin to leave her body, “Relax, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles, then drops a hand from her face to interlock fingers with one of hers.

Geto turns, beginning to guide Riku by her hand towards a white door in the corner of the garage.

When they’re inside, Riku is surprised by how dark it is. There’s no way there’s any windows in here. She thinks, simply following Geto’s footsteps as it’s nearly pitch-black. They enter another door, then another, and then finally Riku is able to make out one of Geto’s muscle standing outside of a white door that’s similar to the one they’d initially entered. He offers both Riku and Geto pm 2.5 masks, to which Geto declines with a wave of his hand.

Geto looks back at Riku, “You put one on.”

Riku does what he says, fastening the elastic bands of the mask around the backs of her ears. She looks up at the man, “You’re not going to wear one?”

“Rule 2.” Geto glares down at Riku with an expression so cold and without emotion that it honestly sends a shiver through her spine.

Right. Don’t talk to him or anyone else unless he says so. Riku offers Geto an apologetic look.

He turns away from Riku and shakes his head in a bit of disappointment and annoyance, “Don’t fuck up again. Follow me.” He commands, and when the guard opens the door up, Riku enters behind Geto.

Riku’s eyes widen at the sight of at least 150 workers in white, full-body hazmat suits and gas masks. All worked in various supply lines – some bottling pills and others cutting and packaging pounds of white powder.

“Mr. Geto!” A shorter man in a gas mask and a gray suit and red tie approaches them; from behind Geto, Riku can only see that he’s balding and that he has a cute, round belly, “Welcome home! How are you?”

“Hi Hiroshi, thank you. I’m doing well. You have some new product to show me?”

“Yes!” He clasps his hands together, right this way.”

Geto looks back and down at Riku, “You stay here next to the door. Got it?”

She nods, and Geto departs to a supply line a few meters away with Hiroshi. They stop in front of a woman in a hazmat suit and mask who was currently cutting and measuring a white powder before transferring the small amounts into miniature ziplock bags.

“We’re trying a new formulation of 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine that has twice the strength and lasting effects in the system as our usual MDMA,” he explains.

“Has it been tested?” Geto asks, turning to Hiroshi.

The older man nods, “We’re on week four of trials as we speak. There’s been no adverse effects or drug dependency as of yet. Would you like to try it?”

“Of course.”

The woman in the hazmat suit hands Geto one of the small baggies, which he easily snaps open and taps some of the white powder onto the crook of his thumb and index finger. Geto eyes the powder for a fraction of a second before bringing his hand to his nose and inhaling sharply. His eyebrows raise and winces, “Wow. Hm, that burns a lot more than expected, no?” He glances down at Hiroshi.

“Yes, Mr. Geto, we have heard that from a few of our trial partners.”

“Then why didn’t you lead with that?”

The man laughs awkwardly, then wipes a bit of sweat from his forehead, “Apologies, Mr. Geto.”

“Fix it.” He says plainly, “I don’t want anymore trials of the old version amongst our higher ranked trial partners.”

“Yes, of course, sir!”

Just then, a man in a white button up shirt and black pants barges in the door without a face mask or gas mask on, “Mr. Geto!”

Geto turns with a sigh, “Yes, Kei?”

He glances at Riku, visibly choosing his next words carefully, “There’s some... men from the Kyoto syndicate here to complete their purchase.”

“Right now…?” Geto says under his breath, mostly to himself. He reaches around to his back and tucks his hand underneath his black suit jacket to retrieve a silver hand gun. Riku’s eyes widen as she hadn’t realized he’d had it on him this whole time. She flinches at the clicks it makes when he loads it.

Geto’s eyes dart back over to Riku, “Get Ms. Ozaki up to the onsen level and make sure she has whatever she needs. I’ll meet you there in a few, Ri. Okay?”

Riku nods a few times.

“Sir!” Kei shouts loudly. He glances down at her, “If you would please follow me, ma’am.”

*

When she’s changed and escorted outside, Riku is shocked and in awe at the sight of the onsen’s outdoor pool on the cliff’s edge – overlooking the vast outskirts of Tokyo at night with a few mountains in the background. As the pass the outdoor showering area, Riku begins to understand why her uncle had agreed to the idea of her staying in the Geto clan’s territory for a few days; as it looked incredibly difficult to sneak up on a place like this. And – in the event of some trouble with Toji and his men – if there really is a web of underground tunnels beneath the mountain that she can quickly escape to and through, then all the better. For now, she tries to temporarily forget that Geto is meeting with some people with a loaded gun, many floors below.

The massage therapist leads Riku to a set of massage tables on a wooden patio that sit a few yards before the steps of the natural hot spring, turning to her with a pleasant smile as she taps one of the beds, “Please get comfortable under the covers, and I’ll return in about five minutes so we can get started with your full-body massage.”

“Thank you.” Riku nods.

The massage therapist bows her head respectfully, then retreats back into the indoor area.

When the woman leaves, Riku looks around the extensive outdoor space, slowly easing out of her complimentary, white fluffy robe before hanging it on a nearby hook on the makeshift wall of the patio. The night air feels cool on her naked skin as she strides back to the massage bed before slipping under its thick sheets. She’s surprised at the warmth of it, immediately realizing and appreciative that it’s a heated table.

Riku lays face down and sticks her head into the cushioned, circular opening in the bed, allowing her eyes to flutter shut to the warmth of the heat that radiated from the table to all throughout her body. She already begins to feel herself drift off to sleep, but her senses awaken a bit when she hears a door reopen and close in the distance.

Riku hears small footsteps approach and stop at her side, “Feeling comfortable and ready to start?”

“I’m ready.”

“Okay. Let me know if the bed temperature is okay. First, we’re going to start with legs. Are there any concerns there?”

“No, not particularly, though I did use my thighs a lot today.”

The woman flips up the heavy sheets of the massage bed, but only so Riku’s legs are uncovered, “Do you run, or dance often?”

“Yeah, I teach dance sometimes… How did you know?” Riku asks, curious.

“It’s not hard to tell when you’ve massaged and talked to hundreds of different people.” Riku can’t see the woman but can hear that she’s smiling by her tone of voice, “That, and it’s pretty easy to tell if someone’s a dancer.” The masseuse rubs her hands together to warm them up, then picks up a small bottle of oil from under the table opposite to Riku’s to spread on her hands.

“You know, that’s the second time someone’s told me that in the past day…” Riku lightly chuckles from the opening beneath the table. Her eyes flutter shut when the woman begins to massage her hamstrings, kneading the muscles there in a circular, repetitive motion.

Riku is unsure of how much time passes throughout the leg massage as she floats between consciousness and a light slumber every so often, but she appreciates the woman’s movements, vaguely aware whenever she switched legs or ran her thumbs down the back of her legs to knead her calf muscles.

Riku twitches out of her sleepy state when she feels a light tap on her shoulder, though, eyelashes fluttering in a series of blinks when she’s awakened.

“Ms. Ozaki? Just letting you know that another masseuse will be taking over from here to do your back. Enjoy, and have a good night!”

“Oh? Thank you, you were amazing…” Riku trails off, voice breathy with sleep.

Riku’s legs are covered with the sheets once more and it doesn’t take much for her to doze off again with the comfortable heat of the massage bed. Her breathing slows and deepens, and she doesn’t even notice the new person enter until they remove the covers from her shoulders and peel them down all the way under the dimples of her back. She makes a small noise to the sudden coolness on her back and is too sleepy to greet or question the person who doesn’t introduce themselves.

The hands are much bigger and a bit more calloused, but they move skillfully on her back, strong thumbs massaging up the straight lengths of muscle on either side of her spine. Riku instinctively releases a breathy moan to this motion, unaware of how tense her back had been until now.

“You’re pretty tight here, huh?” The words are lowly uttered right beside Riku’s ear, and she gasps in surprise, immediately recognizing the other’s voice.

She whips her head towards him, “Suguru?!” Her eyes widen when she sees the long-haired man standing above her in only a white robe, the sliver of exposed skin on his chest covered with a mix of dragons and other colorful, yakuza tattoos.

His hair was away from his face and tied up in a messy bun, a grin on his face at Riku’s surprised expression, “I told you I’d rub this little back of yours, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but…!” Riku’s cheeks redden with embarrassment. She turns from the other and shyly puts her head back into the massage table, “You should’ve said something.”

“Surprise.” Geto smirks, continuing to knead his fingers into Riku’s back.

“How did the Kyoto syndicate purchase go?”

“As well as it could’ve.” Riku hears a smirk in his voice, “What, were you worried about me because I brought a gun?”

“No…!” Riku’s face blushes from beneath the table.

He bends over to whisper his next words beside her ear, “Liar.” He stands up straight again, “Just brought some extra protection is all.”

“Whatever. I mean it’s not like I want you to die or anything.” Riku says, and there’s silence for a moment.

Riku groans in pleasure every so often, especially whenever Geto massages a knot out of the muscles in her back and shoulders, “Are you even licensed to do this?” She moans out, words contradicting the obvious pleasure she feels from the work of Geto’s hands, “I’m calling the authorities…” She grumbles, relaxed and sleepy from the other’s massaging.

Geto chuckles, “I own the place, beautiful. Can do whatever I want.” His hands finally cease after a while, “All right, you’re done. Wanna shower and get in the hot spring?”

Riku grunts childishly when Geto stops massaging her back, really living up to the brat allegations, “Keep going…”

Geto’s hand connects with the curve of Riku’s ass with a loud ‘smack,’ even through the thick fabric of the massage table’s sheets, and she jumps with a high-pitched yelp before turning her head back to look at Geto, “You don’t tell me what to do, Ri” A devilish grin is on his lips, “Now get up and shower with me.” The back of his hand lightly brushes Riku’s exposed cheek as he speaks.

“Fine,” she grabs the sheets at her lower back and pulls them up so her body is hidden from Geto’s eyes, “but you have to undress first.”

Geto rolls his eyes, smirk remaining on his lips as his hands move to unfasten the cloth belt of his robe. He quickly makes work of the white, towel-like fabric, removing and tossing it entirely to the side so that it falls nearby the hot spring.

With his robe now gone, for the first time Riku is able to see the fullness and extensive nature of Geto’s colorful tattoos that cover all of his torso and arms… vivid, red and green dragons twisting and dancing up the length of his arms, chest, and back. Part of her wonders how many hours it took to ink so much of his body. Riku’s eyes finally dart down Geto’s cut abdomen and between his legs, widening a bit at the size of his dick, even in its half-hardened state. She could tell it had a lot of girth, and blinks in a bit of surprise.

“Like what you see, Ri?” He chuckles to her dazed expression, “Your turn.” He crosses his bulky arms over his muscular chest, eying her.

Riku slowly sits up, lightly biting her lower lip as she allows the sheet to fall from her shoulders, exposing her bare, perky breasts that were a tad large for her frame. The sharp indent of her small waist comes into view when she hops off of the massage table to stand in front of Geto; her wide, toned hips and legs that he’d gotten a preview of last night now more visible in the lights of the onsen’s patio. Her wavy, long black curls dust her shoulders as they fall down to rest at the center of her back.

Geto doesn’t hold back and looks Riku up and down shamelessly, taking his time as he engraves the image of her into his memory, “Wow. You’re like a work of art, Ri.”

“Like?” She quirks a brow to the word, confidently.

Geto laughs once under his breath, shaking his head to Riku’s ego, “Shut up and come here.” He grasps Riku’s hand and pulls her along towards the traditional Japanese shower area on the side of the patio. Geto turns on the handheld shower head and squats to sit down on one of the stools, leaning over to pull another stool in front of him before glancing up at Riku who’s still standing.

She smiles brightly, “You’re going to help me wash my back, too? Aww…” She turns and sits down on the stool in front of Geto so that her back nearly presses flush against his front.

When Geto reaches to retrieve the handheld shower head from its holder, his free hand brushes her thick hair over her shoulder and he presses a soft kiss to her newly exposed neck. Riku allows her eyes to flutter shut to the sweet interaction, leaning back a little so that her back gently rests against Geto’s toned chest.

Geto sprays the hot water on the two of them, next passing the shower head to Riku so she could rinse her hair while he frees his hair from its bun and snaps his hair tie around his wrist.

“This is a first.” Riku notes, passing the shower head back to Geto and leaning forward to squeeze a number of pumps of the onsen’s complimentary shampoo into her hand. She rubs it over and through the length of her hair.

“What? Showering with someone?” Geto asks, drenching his own hair with the hot spray from the shower head.

“No, I’ve done that – just not in a Japanese style bath… at a private onsen on top of a mountain, at that.” She turns to one side while she lathers her hair, glancing back and up at Geto for a moment.

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a new experience, beautiful.” He winks down at her. Geto puts the shower head back in its holder, directing it so that it sprays on Riku’s chest before sitting up once more and moving his fingers to her scalp. He gently massages the shampoo into the roots of her hair.

Riku’s hands fall from her hair at the blissful sensation of Geto’s fingers massaging her scalp, mouth falling slightly agape and eyes closing as she softly hums to his small, circular movements, “Fuck, that feels amazing…” She breathes out, brows knitting together in pleasure.

Geto chuckles right beside Riku’s ear, “Yeah?” He coos, one of his hands retreating from her hair after a minute to slide down her shoulder and over the curve of her breast before squeezing. He uses the hand still in her hair to turn her head back towards him, lips pressing to Riku’s agape ones in a heated, passionate make out. Geto’s tongue dances with Riku’s, the two of them beginning to set a pace as he lightly bites and sucks her bottom lip into his mouth between kisses.

Riku senses a familiar heaviness building in her abdomen and feels Geto’s erection twitch firmly against her ass, breaking their moment of heated passion to pant heavily and look up at the other.

The moment quickly fades when a bit of the shampoo suds fall into her eye, “Ow,” she rubs at it a little.

A grin plays at the corners of Geto’s mouth and he grabs the shower head again, beginning to help Riku rinse her hair, “You okay? Need me to blow in your eye?” He teases.

Riku simply grumbles, leaning back into Geto’s shoulder so some of the spray from the shower head could flush out her eye. The bit of foundation she’d put on earlier drops from her face and the red and purple bruises underneath begin to come into view.

Geto gently brushes his fingers over her bruised cheek with his free hand, to which Riku flinches in a bit of pain, “Sorry,” he says low and apologetically.

“S’okay…” she blinks up at Geto, eyes directly meeting his in a long silence.

“Does it hurt bad?” He asks, genuinely.

And Riku thinks she finally understands why so many women in the yakuza syndicate swoon over this man. It’s almost too easy to fall for his sweet and attentive ways, “No, looks worse than it feels.” Riku says, picking her head back up and taking the shower head from Geto to finish rinsing her hair. She’s careful not to look into his eyes for too long, as she definitely is not interested in falling for anyone right now, let alone a yakuza drug lord.

“Wanna smoke a little?”

“Sure.” After thoroughly washing their bodies, Riku wrings her hair out a bit more before tying it up in a high ponytail and stepping into the hot spring. She sits on one of the rocks beside Geto who’s already inside.

Geto sits with his back pressed against one of the unyielding, straight rocks inside the edge of the hot spring pool, facing the vast view of the city at night before them. He reaches back to grab the joint and lighter from the pocket of the robe he’d abandoned on the ground earlier. Geto easily lights the joint in a practiced sort-of-way, evenly burning the end and lightly puffing the filter a few times to make sure it’s well lit.

He holds the joint between his lips while he places the lighter back on his robe behind him, then glances to Riku, passing the joint to her to hit, “Ladies first.”

Riku takes the joint from Geto between her index and thumb, eyeing it before finally pressing it to her lips to take a few small puffs. She hadn’t smoked weed in a while and didn’t want to embarrass herself by coughing so much. She exhales smoothly, blowing the smoke out from the corner of her mouth and away from them.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. It’s not laced with anything.” Geto winks, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She shrugs, teasing, “Ya never know, you being a drug lord and all.” Riku passes the joint back, and Geto takes a long, heavy drag from it, ending with a French inhale when he expels the white smoke from his mouth.

Geto chuckles, holding the joint between his fingers, “You’re… different, Riku.” He takes another puff, turning his gaze to the beautifully cultivated scene of nature and city lights before them.

“Different how?” Riku raises a brow at Geto, resting her elbows behind her on the rock edge of the onsen.

“Well, none of the women I usually hang around would ever give me as much back-talk as you,” Geto admits, beginning to smirk, “that and the fact that you expect men to do whatever you want them to do.” He turns back to Riku and hands the joint to her.

“As they should. It’s better that way.” Riku says coolly, then takes a longer drag from the joint compared to her previous puffs. The back of her throat stings from the smoke but she’s able to refrain from coughing, “And shouldn’t I be able to have anything I want?” She says in a cute, pleading tone as she gazes at Geto with big eyes and slightly pouting lips. It’s the kind of look that would undoubtedly make most men crumble.

Geto simply looks at Riku for a moment, straight-faced; almost caught in her spell. He blinks, then retrieves the joint from her hand, a small grin on his lips, “Shit, you’re good.” He takes a puff, “They teach all the Ozaki girls how to put on an act like that?”

“Nah, we may be masters of the arts, but that part’s just genetic. And I guess I should take that as a compliment, coming from you.” Riku smirks, turning her head to appreciate the city lights once more.

There’s a lull in their conversation for a moment, but they both simply observe the view with the background sounds of running water.

Geto speaks up again, “I’m not saying a man shouldn’t treat you like a princess, he definitely should, but,” he pauses to take another drag from the joint, returning his gaze to Riku, “you don’t seem like the type to reciprocate at all. Not even a little.”

Riku laughs under her breath, cocking her head to one side in agreement, “Well, you’re right about that. I’d rather not do that kind of work if I don’t have to.”

Geto responds with a single chuckle, “Hah, work? Damn, Riku, not out of the kindness of your heart or because you love someone, but work? Shit. Who hurt you?”

Riku shakes her head, lightly smiling at the view before them as the other continues to gaze down at her, “It’s not like that. I’m sort of like you in a way – just not the romantic type. I’ve never been disappointed when men do me wrong or don’t meet my expectations – men are always going to fail when it comes to that. It’s what they do best,” she takes the joint from Geto again, poking it between her lips to take a hit – now beginning to feel her head floating, “I’m just not interested in investing in that sort of dynamic when I already know there’s no return on it.”

“Ah, so you have had your heart broken…” Geto smirks.

“Sure, I mean who hasn’t?” She passes the joint back to Geto, “But honestly, even when I do think back about past lovers and past relationships – which is a rare case in itself… I think, why would I want things any other way than how I operate now? It’s very efficient, and who would even want to lift a finger for a man’s sake if they didn’t have to?”

“Yeah, you’re a brat through and through.” He concludes, nodding to himself as he takes a hit from the now much smaller joint.

Riku laughs lightly, but it’s an honest one – probably the most honest Geto’s heard her utter in the short time he’s known her. She suddenly moves closer to Geto and closes the gap between them, naked thigh pressed against his beneath the hot water as she looks up at the man, “You say that like it hasn’t worked on you.” She nearly sings, expression smug.

Geto quickly finishes the joint before placing the bud of it on the rock behind him, turning back to offer Riku his undivided attention. He furrows his brows as he looks down at her in a mix of confusion and amusement, “Please, baby. I see through it.”

Riku turns up the brattiness a notch, “Do you? I mean, it’s hardly been 24 hours since we met and you’ve already eaten me out, treated me to onsen, given me a massage, washed my hair… and you even promised to make me dinner tonight.” She says, counting each of Geto’s actions on her fingers, a bit mockingly. There’s a devious glint in her eyes, “And what have I done for you…?” Riku pretends to think for a moment, “Kiss you and look pretty?”

Geto’s gaze on Riku narrows, and all of a sudden, he’s grabbed her hips with one hand and moved her onto his lap, water splashing around them at the speed of his movements. Riku makes a high-pitched noise of surprise when she’s maneuvered, eyes wide as she’s now face to face with with Geto’s cold expression, “You’re mistaken, brat. Don’t you gloat too fucking much,” he snakes his arm around Riku’s waist and locks it there, causing her back to arch and her hips to jerk into his, “I’ve done those things for you because I like doing them.”

Riku feels her heart beat a bit quicker, but somehow regains some of her composure as she sits on the man’s lap, feeling his naked erection prod at the crook of her inner thigh, “Mhm, but the fact still remains, no?” She leans closer, pressing her lips to his ear with a sultry whisper, “You wanna treat me good; and there’s countless men out there who’d line up to the same exact thing for the same exact reason as you – that you’re infatuated with everything about me.” Riku runs her slick tongue along the length of Geto’s neck, beginning to kiss and suck small red marks onto the skin there. She simultaneously grinds her hips forward in a smooth, fluid, and controlled movement that only a dancer could, rubbing over Geto’s hardened dick.

“You’re a piece of fucking work, Ri…” Geto slips his free hand up Riku’s back, slowly and gently combing his fingers through the roots of her hair before abruptly grabbing a handful and jerking her head back, “Gojo was right. We need to teach you a lesson.” His near-black eyes peer down into her brown with an examining gaze.

“Can’t wait.” Riku smiles, eyes beaming with exaggerated excitement.

Geto rolls his eyes, unable to help the smirk on his lips when he suddenly pushes Riku off of his lap and tosses her back into the hot spring water.

“Agh—” Her scream is cut off when she falls into the pool. She breaks the surface a few seconds later, long curls straightened slick against her face and shoulders from the moisture of the water, “Hey… That was mean!” She pouts, pushing her wet hair out of her face before crossing her arms over her bare chest.

“You kinda deserved that one, Ri.” Geto begins to rise to his feet, wading over to the steps of the onsen and then walking out, “Gotta teach you to stop your back-talk somehow.”

Riku shamelessly admires his muscular form emerge from the water, especially appreciating the bulk of his toned arms, and his tight butt that sticks out when he picks up her robe for her. He grabs his own as well before putting it on and fastening the waistband.

Geto turns back to her, tucking her robe in the bend of his arm with an outstretched hand to help her out of the onsen, “Come on, Ri. Let’s get out of here. I still gotta make you dinner, right?” He smiles, this time honestly.

*

Riku lays back on the black leather couch of Geto’s vast, modern style living room, legs stretched out over the length of it as she scrolls through her phone and replies to a few messages – most of which were from Nanami who kept asking her for updates. A cooking show softly plays in the background from the large TV in front of her but she doesn’t pay it much attention at the moment. As she hadn’t planned for or previously known that she’d be staying with Geto for a few days, Riku wears some of his clothes as makeshift pajamas, currently and solely wearing one of his white t-shirts and a pair of his boxer-briefs. Both were far to big for her but especially the extra large t-shirt that drapes and loosely hangs off her shoulders – basically the length of a small dress.

Riku knows that Geto is in the kitchen finishing up preparing their dinner but hears a door loudly open in the distance, and suddenly his white-haired best friend is the one to stride into the living room first, eventually followed by Geto.

“Hey, Ri,” Gojo is fully dressed in his all-black getup when he enters the room. He smirks down at the sight of Riku on the couch, arms folded across his chest as he admires the view, “damn you look fucking good in his shirt…”

Riku locks her phone and places it on the flat of the couch’s arm rest, a bit caught off guard when Gojo suddenly leans over and captures her lips with his own in a heated kiss; Riku can’t deny it’s a bit embarrassing with Geto right behind him and blushes, lightly moaning into his mouth when he easily slips a large hand beneath the shirt to grasp her bare breast.

“Hey,” Geto warns, “I’ve been working on that one all night,” he quickly explains to Gojo, “don’t ruin dessert.” He grins wickedly.

Gojo breaks the kiss, standing upright again, “Well, when you put it like that…” He trails off, grin matching his friend’s.

Riku sits up, smoothing the shirt back down, “Is that all I am to you? Something you want to eat after dinner?” She plays along, only pretending to be offended in the way she asks the question.

Gojo plops down beside Riku on the couch, aimlessly watching the cooking show for a moment, “What is for dinner, anyways?”

“Kaisendon,” Geto sits on the opposite side of Riku, joining the two of them on the couch, “already prepped the sashimi and just waiting on the rice to finish cooking, now.” His eyes dart over to Riku, “This one had to choose something expensive, of course…” the pads of Geto’s fingers brush under her chin.

Riku rolls her eyes, “Oh please, a few hundred bucks spent on quality fish is nothing to you.”

“Still acting like a brat, I see…” Gojo tears his eyes from the TV and leans close to Riku.

“Oh she’s been even worse today,” Geto pokes two long fingers to Riku’s lips and slips them into her mouth – and Riku immediately starts to lick and suck on them lewdly. Geto glances to Gojo with his next words, “all kinds of smart shit’s been coming out of this pretty little mouth.” He looks back at Riku with a dark, heated gaze, “Such a shame when she could be using it for something better.”

“You’re such a slut.” Gojo laughs, hands slipping up Riku’s shirt to squeeze her breasts again, pausing every so often to tease her hardened nipples with his fingertips, “You’re barely even ashamed of wanting to please both of us at the same time, aren’t you?” Gojo then talks low, breathing hotly into Riku’s ear, “Go on, show him how you’d treat his dick.”

Riku moans soft and wantonly as she laps and swirls her tongue around Geto’s fingers, eyes locked on Geto’s until he suddenly pulls them from her mouth. Geto’s gaze lowers to Riku’s body as he trails them down her exposed stomach, slipping them under the waistband of the loose boxer briefs and starting to gently rub small circles over her clit.

A breathy but louder moan falls from Riku’s lips at the pleasurable friction Geto creates, brows knitting together when Gojo pinches her nipples at the same time. She looks back and forth between the two men, both of their eyes locked on her as they continue their sinful movements on her body.

Riku glances down at Geto’s hand that moves beneath the fabric of the black boxer briefs, unaware of how much her body had been craving his touch so badly until this very moment. She moans again and grabs the thick of Geto’s forearm, pulling it closer as she wants him to touch her more.

“That good, huh?” Geto says slyly, “Or is this just what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

“That feels so good…” Riku pants out between heavy breaths, honestly surprised by how perfect and skillfully his fingers move on the tiny, swelling bud of flesh between her legs.

“I know, baby.” Geto pecks Riku’s forehead with a kiss, and the innocence of the gesture mixed with the contrasting, wicked movements of his fingers drives her a little crazier.

Gojo pauses and retrieves one of his hands away from Riku’s breasts, popping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to wet them before removing them from his lips with a ‘pop.’ He reaches down between Riku’s legs, slipping his hand under the stretched fabric of the briefs and beneath Geto’s that circled over her clit to press his long fingers into her tight, slick hole.

“Hah…!” Riku cries out, instinctively squeezing around Gojo’s fingers.

“Shit, you’re tight, babe…” Gojo notes, “And so wet. You haven’t been fucked in a while, have you?”

Riku props up her leg on the edge of the couch so that the men have better access to her. She moans messily in response to Gojo’s words, looking up at him to shake her head as she currently finds it difficult to speak with all the pleasure she’s receiving.

Gojo’s fingers move at a slow, steady pace in and out of Riku’s pussy, deeply massaging her from the inside with each thrust of his hand.

“Tell us how long it’s been, beautiful.” Geto speaks up again, his sultry voice just slightly demanding.

Riku whines, somehow mustering up the strength to speak coherently, “Uh… a l-little over a y-year…”

“A year?!” Gojo and Geto simultaneously chorus, both of their hand movements ceasing for a few seconds, before eventually continuing again.

“Shit, babe, no wonder you’re such a slut for a little bit of friction.” Gojo says, still pushing his fingers in and out of Riku deliciously slow. He tries curling the tips of his fingers forward when he slides them deep into her pussy, pressing against the soft spot at the front of her drenched walls.

“Ah—!” Riku loudly yelps, hips jerking forward when Gojo touches her g-spot while Geto continues his feather-light circling of her clit.

“There it is…” Gojo grins, softly chuckling to Riku’s response, “You like it right here, babe?” He whispers the rhetorical question into her ear. His hand abruptly picks up speed, the toned muscles of his arm rippling beneath his black button up shirt as he begins to harshly thrust and pound his hand against Riku’s cunt.

Her mouth falls agape and loud groans continuously fall from her lips, “Fuck, ah, S-Satoru! Too fast…!” She turns to look up at him, free hand gently grabbing the bicep of his arm that moved at a crazy pace. Her eyes are pleading and the expression on her face is a helpless one as she’s at the mercy of these two powerful, cruel yakuza men.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl, yeah?” There’s not a hint of care or kindness in Gojo’s tone – only nastiness and impatience.

Riku’s hardly able to register how quickly she’s drawn to the edge at the command of Gojo’s pounding, curling fingers; the sharp contrast of Geto’s gentle, circling ones only driving her closer to her climax. Geto speeds up his movements to match Gojo’s, and Riku’s body shudders with anticipation of the big orgasm she feels approaching. She nearly reaches the edge, chest shaking as she loudly hyperventilates at the strong sensation that’s so close she can almost taste it…

… and Gojo and Geto exchange looks, nodding at each other once in sync before quickly removing their hands from between her legs.

Riku is dazed for a moment, not having expected the men to stop, and her moans turn into a long whine. She pulls at their arms, looking between Gojo and Geto with begging eyes, “Please…! ‘M so close!”

The two men simply pull out of her grasp in response and rise from the couch, leaving her there. Geto laughs loudly.

“That sounds like a personal problem, Ri.” Gojo yawns, turning to Geto with a shit-eating grin, “I’m hungry. You, Suguru?”

“Yeah. The rice cooker’s probably finished by now, too.”

“Oh, fuck you two.” Riku’s helpless, pleading tone is already long gone and she spits the words bitterly, obviously pissed and angry from having been edged and denied her orgasm. She dramatically throws herself back onto the couch so she’s stretched over it like she had been before. Riku picks up her phone once again, looking at absolutely nothing in particular as she truly just felt like ignoring the two men who’d teased her.

“Aw, look who’s mad!” Gojo pokes fun at Riku, laughing, “What’s wrong, babe? We’re only giving you the punishment you deserve.”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about giving us attitude. Now come, Riku. Let’s eat.” Geto says.

Riku turns on her side and away from the men so that she directly faces the back of the couch, “No.” she grumbles childishly, tapping away at her phone, “I wanna cum.”

Riku suddenly feels her arm harshly being grabbed and pulled back so that she gets off the couch and stands on her feet, Geto’s sharp eyes glaring down at her with a coldness that’s downright scary, “Don’t make me say it again, brat. You don’t get to cum unless I fucking let you. Now you better fucking eat this good ass dinner I made. It’s what you wanted – right, slut?”

Riku’s stunned and honestly a bit frightened by this dark side of Geto, as he’s usually so sweet and she hasn’t really experienced him act like this until this instant. That’s right, he is Tokyo’s most vicious drug lord. She feels her heart rate hasten and drops her phone to the floor, “Yes!” She replies obediently.

“Then come on and fucking eat it then.” Geto leans in so he’s face-to-face with Riku, peering down at her.

Riku regains some of her confidence, not wanting to cower under the man’s gaze and instead changing her expression so that she glares up at him.

Gojo watches their interaction, deciding to break the tension. He brushes the back of his knuckles over Riku’s smooth cheek, genuinely smiling to the pissed off look on her face, “You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry, Ri.”

“That’s toxic!” Riku shouts, turning her attention to Gojo.

Geto laughs, his fit of anger leaving him as quickly as it came, “Not the fact that he’s the highest ranked yakuza, but the fact that he likes the way you look when you’re angry? That’s the red flag?” He laughs a bit more, “You’re hilarious, Ri…”

[bishimightwing]

V; Randy Dandy Oh! (Pirate AU)

TW: Themes and/or mentions of violence, torture, blood, gore, rape, alcohol abuse, slavery, and sex/human trafficking are present.

This verse is compatible with fandoms/lores relevant to:

1600-mid 1800s colonial timelines and fantasies based in such

Norse/Celtic / Other pagan mythologies

Any Thor RPers (of Norse mythology and/or Marvel/MCU

any existing pirate themed franchises (Pirates of The Caribbean, Our Flag Means Death, Black Sails)

Assassin's Creed

Marvel Comics 1602 universe

Some canon DC muses that would be great for this AU (some of which I include in Dick's origin for this AU):

Raven

Zatanna

Bruce Wayne and any of the Batfam

Ra's al Ghul/League of Assassins/Al Ghul family

Lucius Fox

John Constantine

Madame Xanadu

Penguin

Poison Ivy

Swamp Thing

Jason Blood/Etrigan the Demon

Aquaman and Mera, any Atlanteans

Diana Prince and other Amazons

Joker

Harley Quinn

Clark Kent

Lois Lane

Oliver Queen

Jim Gordon

Lex Luthor

Falcone/other Gotham/DC based crime families and syndicates

Synopsis: Between the middle ages and early industrial eras of human history, piracy was the most revolutionary business to save souls from the clutches of slavery, taxing economies, and oppressive kingdom structures. The last bastion of hope for those who would have nothing left to fend for themselves. Such was the business carried on by generations of the Grayson bloodline, circa 1300s A.D. Europe. Richard John "Dicky" Grayson grew up an aspiring aerialist, as opposed to being optimistic about the chance to see the seven seas from aboard a water vessel. He read stories of the greats: Sir Francis, Blackbeard, and even some tragic lores like that of Davey Jones (which he thought to be nothing more than fantasy). Outside of these romantic fantasies, he, as well as his illegitimately married parents, John and Mary, lived their entire lives in a gang of outcasts, led by one Sir Haly; a once respectable socialite praised by the British Army and the elites which they served, whose tastes for the unusual, unexplained, and otherworldly things did not sit well with the King, who sought to make Gotham prime territory for the beginning of western colonial expansion.

For you see, Sir Haly's Circus practiced, unlawfully, as a safe haven for runaway slaves and indigenous folk seeking refuge. Haly was cast out by a supposed polite society, but knew if he could turn a sense of profit out of making refugees into showmen, he'd have enough shilling for eventual provisions of equity for those to whom he gave asylum. Not to mention, pirates would also be looking to him for resources, albeit, humans to traffic. Dicky didn't take well to certain aspects of this culture. So he got wise one day, taking a heavy sack of loot from his family's ring leader while he slept, and by morning one fateful spring day, he bribed a sailor for his ship.

Thus, The Nightwing's first voyage began. He woke up the whole circus of urchins, commanding them to haul ammunition, liquor, food, herbs, cutlery, and even a risky theft of local guard armory cannons and firearms onto the boat. The Graysons were the most worrisome about Dicky's plans, alongside Sir Haly of The Narrows, to whom Dicky would bestow first mate responsibility. The three were of the last standing in concern and trivial thought over the matter before a unit of Royal Navy opened fire in the public, John and Mary hopelessly in the crossfire. Haly had been fatally shot in a calf, limping on his way aboard the vessel. Dick had no choice but to flee, in spite of the tears raining over his cheeks in a look of absolute uncertainty. This was not what he had hoped for.

The Haly's crew set a course for Blüdhaven, a town of natives and refugees alike, not yet eyed for conquest by the Navy, where they might find the means for an expansion of the crew, as well as safe passage within the rivers of the Americas, most of which had been taken over by the British Navy. The crew would rest, recuperate, and hope to set sail for plunder beyond the colonized territories that were vastly becoming the last places their kind would be in before dying. But if the Royal Navy wants to stand in the way, then the blood of the King's men shall be the price to pay, for Dicky's loss, as well as for the suffering his Haly's family went through.

[goingplacesfarandnear]

European Waterways Alsatian Canal Cruise: Mystery of the Necklace in Saverne, Lalique in Lutzelbourg

European Waterways’ luxury hotel barge, Panache, cruises through the historic city of  Saverne on the Marne au Rhin canal through France’s Alsace-Lorraine © Karen Rubin/goingplacesfarandnear.com By Karen Rubin, Travel Features Syndicate, goingplacesfarandnear.com Day 4 Waltenheim-sur-Zorn to Saverne On this fourth day of European Waterways’ seven-day cruise cruise on the Marne au Rhin canal…