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gyupinkys · 9 months

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FOUND YOU

Yandere Jihoon x fem reader.

WC: 3.8K

Jihoon was never one for relationships. His stoic behavior tends to bore the ladies, but he's had is fair share of flings. However, when some low life hacker tries to access his files; he cant help but look into you more, and some more, and a little more until he becomes obsessed. Jihoon makes it his mission to find you.

WARNINGS: YANDERE, stalking, DUB CON, phone sex, spying, unconsented filming, use of sex toys, fingering, mention of kidnapping, sugar daddy Jihoon, bratty reader.

A/N: i love this fic and I love you woozi.

One semester left… just one. Why on earth would they raise your tuition by $5,000? Are they forgetting both of your parents are dead and you have no job? The financial aid office is no help and you're already about $10,000 in debt. How nice. You look at your computer, contemplating. There's always that option… no it’s not safe. But damn you need money, you need your degree, you need to get out of this fucking city and start over. You look down at your cat Bruno sitting at your feet.

“Should I?”

He just gives you a judgemental look and walks away. This fucking cat…

You have no other choice. You pull out your spare laptop, not risking your pc getting any viruses. A few months ago you drunkenly stumbled upon a website on the dark web that gives you access to IP addresses of major company computers. You very easily figured out how to access their files, you can see everything; their expenses, investments, and payments. It would be so easy to transfer money to an offshore account and cover your traces. Scrolling through the list of companies you try to find one you’ve never heard of. More popular companies tend to have more security.

“Universe factory?”

Hmmm. Doesn't ring a bell. It’s located about fifteen miles from your apartment so you aren't worried about them finding you. Weirdly, you can't find any bank accounts linked to this company. Scouring through some files, this seems to be a music company of sorts? You find samples of songs, lyrics, beats, and oh shit.. Drug shipments? Why is this in the music files? You try to dive deeper only for your connection to completely cut off and your computer blue screens. Fucking hell. The computer won’t turn back on and you won't have a chance to cover your tracks. So much for being computer savvy…

“Fuckkkkk” youre actually fucked. These people are clearly good if they are able to shut off your computer so they may have already found your address by now. You're hoping your vpn and security walls help you. You get up and start to pace. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? Of course you somehow chose the shadiest fucking company on earth. There's nothing to do now but stress and wait for your likely impending death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The fuck?”

Jihoon’s studio is his safe space. He’s lucky Cheol lets him pursue his passions on the side, this mafia thing tends to take up a lot of his time so being able to unwind in his own space is a treasure. But when he returns to his computer he senses something is wrong. Someone’s gone through his files. Now, Jihoon wouldn't be too worried if all that was on this computer was his music, but recently he’s been using the Universe factory as a coverup to store documents from past business deals. Now this couldnt have been the work of some amaetur, in order to get past all his security takes some real skill, and to be able to do it without a trace? Hm…

Jihoon looks through his files, trying to catalog all the incriminating evidence.

“Tiger’s super wicked diss track?” he speaks in disbelief. When the fuck did Soonyoung get in his studio? And record a fucking distrack?

Jihoon runs a program to see the location of the last user to access his encrypted files. Nothing? Hmm… This is too random to be a coincidence, this person must've found his IP address and started from there. He decides to be bold and search his IP addresses on his self made database, it wouldn't hurt.

“ “FoundYou.com”? What the fuck?”

Well he hit the jackpot. He was able to look at who accessed this website in the past 24 hours and who interacted with the universe factory link. He traced the computer to a rural part of antarctica… ok that's definitely not the real location. He digs a little deeper finding layers and layers of security. He’s starting to think this may not be some silly hacker and could be a rival mafia pulling at strings. After an hour he’s confident he’s found the real address and hacker. About fifteen miles from him lives a Y/N L/N, full time student, studying in computer science, $10,437.76 in debt and an orphan… hm. He looks up your instagram and woah. He wasn’t expecting you to look like that. He sees your friends, finds their instagrams, just to see more pictures of you cover his bases. Your college friends speak highly of you, your highschool friends love you, oh wow even your elementary school friends still hang out with you. He digs a little deeper, just to know who he’s dealing with. You adopted a cat a year ago, a cat who visits the vet very often. Gestational blockages, broken arm, not eating, bladder infection… This cat seems like a handful.

“Bruno? Like Bruno Mars or Bruno from Encanto?” he whispers to himself.

You visited the hospital last year from a broken pinky, your dermatologist keeps increasing the strength of your acne medication, you take very strong pills for your cramps. Car accident when you were 7, therapy for 10 years and dead parents?… Figures.

Your credit card statement says a lot about you. $7 matcha lattes three times a week despite being in debt. $15 chipotle bowls and 12am Mcdonalds. You really like shopping at Adam and eve… freaky. You bought $100 worth of things from amazon yesterday. You sure do buy a lot of cat toys on amazon, this cat is spoiled. Hair dye, batteries, water bottles, 12 pound bag of skittles?

“Woozi, what are you doing?” Soonyoung whispers in his ear.

Jihoon jumps, “When did you even get in here?”

“You get too immersed in your work, but why are you on amazon?”

“None of your business get out! AND WHEN DID YOU RECORD A DISS TRACK IN HERE.”

Hoshi’s eyes widen and he quickly makes his exit leaving Jihoon alone again. He knows he’s being a creep but he doesn't have it in him to care. You’re just so interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bruno there's no one at the door stop growling.”

You open the door to show him no one is outside, but low and behold sitting outside your apartment is a large bouquet of hydrangeas… your favorite flower.

“The fuck?”

You further inspect the flowers, seeing a note in the center.

“My precious little hacker, I’ll be seeing you soon. P.S check your bank account - Woozi’s Universe factory.”

You drop the flowers. Oh my god.You figured something like this would happen but now that it's happening you're freaked out. God, you should have minded your business. Now the little money you had is probably gone as some sort of twisted revenge. As you login to your bank app you're sure you've lost your mind and you're seeing things. $20,000 was wired to your savings account.

“What the fuck.”

You know better than to touch this money. It’s too good to be true. But, this would pay off your debt and get you a better apartment… fuck. You check your email to see what time the money was wired only to see an email from your school saying there were changes made to your account. Can this day get any worse? But it somehow gets better, not only is your tuition paid but all your debt is cleared… you must've suffered a head injury and you're making all of this up while in a coma.

“Bruno, I might be killed in the next 7 days… Then you’ll have to fend for yourself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bruno, I might be killed in the next 7 days.. Then you’ll have to fend for yourself.” your sweet voice rings out.

Jihoon had to see your reaction to his gift. He’s glad you didn't notice the green dot on your mac as he watched you through the webcam. He loves the way you talk to Bruno like he’s a human.

It took a lot of digging to figure out your favorite flower, it was one of your security questions for your bank app. He hopes you appreciate his generosity, it’s not everyday that he goes out of his way to spoil someone. He sees you looking absolutely bewildered and he can’t help but smile. But this smile quickly drops when you turn to your computer and your eyes widen, presumably seeing your camera is on.

“YOU FUCKING CREEP!” you scream as you power off your computer, leaving him staring at a blank screen.

He just smiles in response. He’s gonna have so much fun with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gifts don't end. Everyday at 4pm you arrive home and on your doorstep is something new, perfume, jewelry, bags, clothes, cat toys. This person must be rich. Though today the bell never rings. You even stand in your hallway looking for the delivery but it never comes.

“Well isn't that weird?” you say to yourself as you unlock your door.

“Bruno?” Usually he comes running up to you when you unlock your door.

You see Bruno inspecting a bright red gift box sitting on your kitchen counter. You stop dead in your tracks. How the fuck did they get in your apartment?

“Bruno! Move away from that.” you say and scoop him up.

Oh god. This is getting insane. Leaving the gifts on your doorstep is one thing but coming inside?

You stare at the gift for an hour. You're too afraid to open it. That is until it starts to vibrate. Is this a fucking bomb? You jump and open the box, seeing a brand new phone… Um Ok? The phone is receiving a call from an unknown number and obviously you don't answer it, setting the phone back down only for the same number to call again. You hesitantly answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, my love.”

“Who is this?”

“Don’t worry about it, yet.”

“Ok, I’m gonna hang up.”

“Y/N, I wouldn't do that f I was you.”

“Stop being a fucking creep and sending shit to my door step.”

He just laughs.

“I left one more gift for you, why don’t you go look.”

You sigh and walk to your door, looking out the peephole first and opening it, picking up the large box.

“Are there killer wasps in here?” you sarcastically say.

“No, there are no wasps,” he laughs.

You open the box and pause, turning your head to your computer to see your camera is on.

“Are you watching me?”

“I’m always watching you, love.”

“God, youre a fucking creep, I should call the cops.”

“And tell them what? You tried to hack me and steal money from me? That you're a dirty little hacker and a thief?”

You’re starting to get upset, this is fucking insane.

“Open the box, love.”

You look at the computer and flip him off before opening the box. You gasp. This fucker sent you sex toys?

“ALL YOU DO IS SHOW ME HOW MUCH OF A FUCKING PERVERT YOU ARE!” you yell into the phone.

“Is it so bad I want my baby to feel good?”

“I’m not your baby! I don’t even fucking know you.”

“I know you don’t know me but I know you. I know everything about you. Your favorite color is blue, your favorite food is Japanese curry, though you eat kimchi fried rice the most. You adopted Bruno because you needed something to keep you company since you don't really date. Your best friend moved away eight months ago and you two don't really talk anymore. Should I continue?”

“What the fuck.” you say with wide eyes.

“Baby, don’t get scared. I’m just so in love with you I need to know everything.”

“Um.” What do you even say to this?

“And don’t pretend this isn’t your darkest fantasy. I’ve seen your tumblr search history.”

Your eyes somehow widen. He got you there. Just the idea of having a clearly rich man obsessed with you would be enough to make you wet if he wasn't a pervert.

“I want you to take out the shibari.”

You pull out a pretty blue vibrator. It’s even your favorite shade of blue.

“Ok?”

“I want you to use it for me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Baby, I wouldn’t want to do things to make you upset, but I need you to listen to me. I’m not above blackmailing you and I’m sure you wouldn't want me to come snatch you up.”

Your jaw drops.

“Youre fucking crazy!”

“Baby, you just make me feel so many things for you.”

You groan, cursing yourself for ever being greedy and trying to steal.

“What do you want me to do?” you sigh out.

“Take off your pants and sit on your desk chair.”

“Do I have to?” you pout looking straight into the camera.

“Yes, baby. I want to see you.”

Why is this making you wet? God, you fucking hate that this is exactly the smut you would always search for. You groan at the situation, yourself, at this mystery pervert.

You shimmy out of your pants and sit in your desk chair. You put the phone on speaker and set it down.

“Now what?”

“Turn it on and rub it over your nipples.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m sure the guys waiting outside your apartment would love to do it for you.”

Your heart drops to your ass and you turn it on, quickly putting it on your nipple.

Jeez, this thing is powerful. You let out a breathy moan disguised as a sigh.

“Run it down your body.”

You slowly drag the vibrator down your body, your breathing becoming heavy.

“Put your legs up on the chair and put it on your clit over your panties, I wanna see you soak through them.”

You put the head of the vibrator on your clit a little too hard making you jump.

“Slow your roll baby.” he laughs, making you roll your eyes.

This vibrator is on a different level from the shitty ones you have. It feels like you're being stimulated throughout your whole body, everything is vibrating and you feel yourself leaking.

“I can see you getting wetter baby, fuck. I bet that pussy tastes so good.”

You moan, pressing the vibrator harder against you, feeling your toes curl.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You close your eyes and nod, swallowing the shame. “It feels really good.”

“Move your panties to the side, let me see.”

You pull your soaked panties over and press the vibrator to your swollen clit. He lets out a deep groan. Jihoon can't believe his eyes, it’s like a dream come true. Your pretty pussy dripping wet just for him, you whining and moaning like all you can think about is cumming. He pulls out his hard cock, beginning to stroke himself, imagining he was fucking you. He would give it to you however you wanted, let you come as many times as you desired. No matter how bad you treated him, he would be on his knees begging to make you cum. The hold you have over him is unfathomable. You’re truly like an angel sent to heaven just for him and he'll be damned if he doesn’t get his hands on you. He doesn't even have it in him to feel bad about watching you, listening to you, exploring you. In his mind you’ve been his from the moment he first saw you. His to worship, spoil, love until the end of time. You’ve become his muse, his lyrics flow out with only you in mind, he makes songs with the purpose of you hearing them. You’ve taken him over completely and he is so irrevocably in love with you. You don’t even need to love him back, he already has enough love for the both of you, and it's not like he wouldn’t be able to force you. A little isolation does wonders on the brain.

“I need more,” you whine out.

“Tell me what you want.”

You just whine more in response, too embarrassed to speak. “You want to use your fingers?”

You nod furiously, opening your eyes to plead with him.

“Ok baby, slide two in for me. I want you to make yourself feel good.”

You listen and slide your fingers in, pumping them straight into your g-spot. You feel yourself on the verge of an orgasm, your moans becoming louder and more frequent.

“Turn it off”

Your eyes fly open. “What.”

“You heard me baby, turn it off.”

“No, no please I’m so close.”

“Y/N.”

You turn it off and throw it to the side, so insanely frustrated.

“What is your deal!”

“You’re not cumming unless it's around my cock, baby.”

This man never fails to surprise you. “And what makes you think I’ll fuck you?”

“Trust me when I say that won’t be an issue.”

“What makes you so sure I just won’t finish myself off when I hang up?”

“I’m always watching, baby. It’s crazy how small they make cameras nowadays.”

“Fuck you Woozi’s Universe Factory.” you say not even able to take yourself seriously.

He just laughs. “I’ll be seeing you soon my love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is he named after Bruno Mars or Bruno from Encanto?” a deep voice rings out from your couch as you enter your apartment making you scream.

You turn to run out your apartment only to see two giants standing in your hallway blocking your exit. You groan and turn back around seeing Bruno sitting in the man's lap. Woah. Is this your stalker? Because if so, you have zero complaints. You’ve never been one to like guys with long hair, but his curls are just so hot and his lips.. How are they so plump? He’s wearing a tight black turtleneck and slacks with a gold chain. He looks so fucking hot, suddenly your not as pissed that he forced you masturbate for him.

“Who are you?”

“You know exactly who I am, my love.”

“I don't know your name. Do you want me to call you Woozi’s Universe factory?”

He breathes out a laugh. “My name is Jihoon, love.”

“I’m sure you already know my name and give me my fucking cat.” you go to grab Bruno who hisses at you. You gasp.

“You little traitor.” you growl. “The real Bruno Mars would never treat me like this.” you say threateningly to the cat.

“Ahh, Bruno Mars. I love that guy.” Jihoon says as he lifts the cat to look him in his eyes. “You want to stay with me don’t you?” to which the cat purrs.

You’re more shocked at your cat's betrayal than Jihoon breaking into your apartment.

“Y/N, sit with me”

“No.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Fine, but not because you asked.” you pout and sit next to him.

“Are you not scared?”

“Honestly, you're too cute for me to be scared of you. Like look at these cheeks.” you say and squeeze his cheeks making him grab your hand and pull it away from your face.

“You don’t know who you're messing with, my love.”

“I mean if you were going to kill me you would've done it already. And I know you're not going to anyway because why would you waste all this money on someone you were going to kill?”

He smiles. “So smart, baby.”

Why is he calling you baby and love? This is actually kind of spooking you.

“What do you want Jihoon?”

“I want you to come live with me.”

Your eyes widen. The fuck? Your feelings must be visible on your face because he continues.

“So, you just want me to get up and leave with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I come with you? You've done nothing but stalk and harrass me!”

“I’ve have not been stalking you, love. Everything I’ve done is a result of your actions. You decided to try to hack me which gave me access to everything.”

“You're just trying to manipulate me!” you say and stand up.

He looked deeply offended by this. “Manipulate you? Tell me one thing in what I said that's not true.”

He has a point. You're just grasping at straw to be honest. “What If I don’t want to go with you.” you pout and stomp your foot looking like a child.

“Then I’ll take you by force.” he says with a straight face.

Oh. You weigh your options. Would you rather live in this hell hole remaining broke and sad or go with him and drain his pockets? You don’t even know where he’s taking you, he could be bringing you to a cabin in the woods to lock you up and kill you. But it’s not like you have an option and you would much rather do this the easy way.

“Ok fine. But not because you told me to” God, you sound like such a brat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months later

“Jihoonnnnnnn.”

“Yes baby?”

“Can you buy me this?”

He groans. “Baby, what else could you possibly buy? You have it all.”

You show him your phone.

“Baby, you have this bag in three colors.” he deadpans.

“OK? This is my favorite color though.” You say like it's the most obvious thing on the planet.

Despite his grumbling he gets up and takes out his wallet, handing you his black card. Jihoon can never say no to you. Anything you ask for is yours, no matter what. Your life has completely changed since meeting him. You wouldn't say he’s your sugar daddy because you're equally as in love with him as he is with you, but, lord does he spoil you. You moved into his high rise apartment and completely renovated it to your taste without a single complaint from him. He bought you a new wardrobe, new cars, bags, jewels, anything you could ever dream of. And the sex.. It’s just incredible. And Bruno is as spoiled as ever. He’s Jihoon’s baby despite Jihoon pretending to dislike him. You know what Jihoon does for a living, that's none of your business though. All that you care about is keeping him and yourself happy. You’ve grown more than accustomed to this lifestyle, not knowing how you functioned before meeting him.

“Thank you Woozipoo”

“Stop calling me that” he groans.

“If you want me to stop you’ll get out this fucking studio and come to bed.”

He rolls his head to you. “Why would I do that?”

“So I can thank you for being so good to me.” you say into his neck making him groan.

“God, baby don’t say things like that.”

“I can’t tell my man how much I want to fuck him?”

“Get your ass in the bedroom.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi smut #jihoon smut #woozi x reader

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theotn01 · 9 months

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Violet Hands & The Vermilion Masks of Pale Men

Chapter II. "Blood in the Garden."

Leonardo-Nawa escapes the unconscious grip of Aidan by rolling out and falling onto the floor into a plank. Instead of nudging him awake, he decides his best course of action will be retrieving a steel folding chair from the corner of his room and placing it at the end of the bed. Kicking off of it, he soars through the air and lands on top of the redhead below. His ass lands square on Aidan’s chest, and his face lands by his lap.

With his hearing aids now absent from his ears, Leo-Nawa is forced to turn around and sit up, signing “It’s eight in the morning, I’m not in the mood to shout.”

Instead of signing back, despite being more than proficient, Aidan has him read his lips. “Exactly. It's eight in the morning. Why jump?”

Looking down at him, hair obscuring his vision, he gestures for them back. They return to his hand and then his ear.

Satisfied with the fact that he can finally let out his voice in all its melodic baritone goodness. “Wake up”—

“Already am.” Aidan yawns.

“We’ve got to train, we’re starting Silenzio today.” Leo shimmies from side to side.

“Right. Please get off of my chest.” Aidan gives light taps to the outside of Leo’s left thigh.

He rolls back, lands on his lap, rolls back once more and lands on the floor. From there, he continues on his way to the door before getting up. He’s barely outside of Aidan’s bedroom door, and likewise his own, when he slides the glass —tinted and untinted, transparent, translucent and opaque all at the same time—open.

The gym behind them is on par with some of the finest private establishments in Ncana. In the centre of the room are the grounds for many forms of combat: a mat primarily used for amaetur wrestling, a boxing ring, a professional wrestling ring, and a cage for mixed martial arts. All alphabetised and categorised by which muscle group they're meant to target. Their exercise equipment line the mirrorless walls, only broken by the entrance to the locker room and adorned with their athletic achievements.

Standing on the standard regulation mat, acting as referee despite being dressed in the least appropriate attire—silk pyjamas—is Leonardo-Nawa’s dad, his ndate. His big salt-and-pepper beard is a bit wet from the drink he holds in a mug with ‘Big Boys Drink Coffee’ written opposite the handle.

“Good morning, Ndate.” He hugs him.

“Morning, Little Lion.” His ndate wraps his barrel arms around him, tapping his back no more than three times. “Did you sleep well?”

“The Champions of Kuatoñembe would be jealous of my rest.”

“Then you must win like they did.”

“Yesterday didn’t count.”

“It did to me,” Aidan says from the doorframe.

“Aidan, my boy. How did you sleep?” He goes over to embrace him and they meet in the middle of both of their strides.

“I slept well, Uncle.” He releases the hug.

“I hope Leo didn’t keep you up too long last night.”

“No, but he tried to make sure I woke up worse.” Aidan gives him a sideways glance.

“False accusations.” Leo lets his tongue slip through his smile.

“Regardless, you two should get ready.” He says. “Especially you, Little Lion. Aidan’s been on a streak.”

“I’ll make you proud, ndate.” Leonardo-Nawa says on his way into the other room.

In it are lockers, a row of showers, an ice bath, and a sauna. Leo-Nawa turns left into the lockers and left again to come face to face with what’s been his locker for as long as he’s remembered. Private instructors, friends and lovers have come and gone through this space. He taps on the translucent screen that forms its door and swipes past all of his sports attires: wrestling, basketball, volleyball, boxing, judo, and jiu-jitsu. Once it's open, he pulls out purple and silver trunks with a matching pair of trainers. Turning around, he takes a moment to look at Aidan as he dresses, already completely stripped down from his awful shirt and average shorts. They’ve practically eaten and trained the same since puberty, but damn does that muscle look better on Aidan than it ever has on himself. It doesn’t help that he’s half a head taller than him. His eyes dart between his own attire and his friend changing, although he knows he doesn’t have to focus on himself to change properly. Regardless, they stretch together and make their way to the mat.

“You both have read the rule book, but just in case you’re a little bit rusty, I'll say everything. Show respect before and after the match. Each match has two five minute rounds. You win by making the other person submit, pinning both of their shoulders to the mat, or by gaining the most points by the end of both rounds. You gain points via takedowns, reversals, exposure, penalties, escapes, and if your opponent gets fouled.

“We all know what gets you fouled, but it must be said that there will be no scratching, no pinching, no pulling tails; and no biting ears, noses, lips, necks or balls. Leo.”

“That was one time and I was five, ndate.”

“It wouldn't be the last time you've had balls in your mouth,” Aidan comments.

“Aidan,” he responds in shock.

“One time too many.” Ndate says before taking an exaggerated deep breath. “Got all that?”

They both nod.

“Wakule!”

Their fists touch, becoming open palms and gliding past each other. With the proper respect shown, they trace an ill-defined circle within the larger circle of the mat. Never letting the other leave his gaze, Leonardo-Nawa sidesteps in-sync with him for a few seconds more, before cinching him in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. An attempt to hook his leg and drop him to the ground fails. He moves as if shoved back and drops into a squat-walk, manoeuvring behind him. With his arms around Aidan's waist, he attempts another sweep. Aidan falls. He’s firm behind the redhead now on his hands and knees. A quick shift brings him to his front where he’s a hair’s width away from getting him within a guillotine choke. He’s dropped onto his back during an attempt to get up. His leg is trapped, and he turns and flips.

“Round one is over,” Ndate calls out. “Take a minute to rest.”

They hug and sit down before sitting down in different corners of the mat.

“Close but no cigar.” Leonardo-Nawa taunts in-between breaths.

“I’ll be smoking that Ngela-Machiavelli pack.” He wipes his sweat through his hair.

“You can try.”

“Back to the centre, boys.”

Doing as they’re told, they perform a second handshake. Afterwards, they sidestep across from each other in another ill-defined circle. Aidan attempts to grab him by the shoulders. Leo shoots under and slithers behind. With a tight grip around his waist, he attempts to hook his leg. He shifts it right before he can, pushing the offending appendage to the side and further lowering his stance. His grip remains. In retaliation, he pushes his arms under and spreads them out to break it. Once again, they face each other. Another circle, another attempt. This one from Leonardo-Nawa, dropping to one knee. He clenches his right leg and attempts a sweep with the other. Aidan falls. He mounts him to stop any attempt at getting up, before transitioning into an armbar attempt. Disappointingly, Aidan moves his forearm down his torso and tears it from his grip. Once off his torso, he runs it up his thigh and grabs hold of Leo-Nawa’s ankle. He turns him onto his stomach from that anchor point. Aidan's legs wrap around his, ending at his lower back, and he secures the hold. He can feel his ankle twist past natural points, and as much as he doesn’t want to, as much as he wants to work his way out, the pain becomes too much. He’s forced to tap. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. Finally, he releases.

“You’re off your game, champ.” Aidan smirks at him.

He sucks his teeth and says “Fifty to forty-eight now. You’re catching up.”

“And you’re still standing.”

He flashes him a smile and shakes his head, looking down.

His ndate chimes in with “You two have been training thirty-two/eleven; eleven days a week after graduation. I’m proud of you boys.”

“Thank you, Ndate.”

“Yeah. Thanks, uncle.”

“No problem, boys. No problem. Now go hit the showers.” He pats them both on the back and leaves with his never ending supply of caffeine in hand.

In the locker room, already stripped down to everything the Greater Pantheon supplied them with, Leo-Nawa runs his water hot, but Aidan runs his scalding. He lets his hair cover his face for a few minutes and lets out a post-match groan.

“Should I get your tail?” Aidan asks.

He holds out the shampoo bottle. “Thank you, darling.”

He flicks his hair back.

“Ptuh. You hit me in the mouth.” He pulls his hair.

“Ah! Fuck you,” Leo-Nawa responds.

“Mhm.”

Aidan slides his hands around his tail, holding it outside of the reach of the water to allow a lather to form.

“Do you think Bri’s going to make us watch the Drifter franchise again?”

“Probably.”

“I can’t wait, honestly. It never gets old.”

“Together… anything is possible.” Aidan does a purposefully scuffed impression of Street Queen, Aroa Rico.

“It’s shlock, but it’s good shlock.” He receives the shampoo once again. “Turn around for me, darling.”

“Sure,” he responds.

With Aidan’s tail in his hand, Leo-Nawa gives it a tug before asking “What about Ayesha?”

“Ngh. Playing through Capsule Creatures again.”

“As usual. Looking at her posts on Thought Bubble, it's four again.”

“You've memorised?”

He hands him his fluffy bicoloured tail back. “We've all known each other for what? Twenty odd years? Of course.”

They make their way outside and onto the large stretch of concrete typically used as a parking lot.

“We’re ready to start, Ndate,” Leonardo-Nawa says.

“Wrong daddy, mate.” Ash turns around, machine gun in hand.

“Chi”—

Foam pellets fly at them at speeds immeasurable at the moment. Nevertheless, platinum bends and links together around his neck. Before the chain can close, amethyst grows crystalline structure by crystalline structure before him and slides onto it. He accumulates a percentage of excess potential energy into his feet and propels himself forward, moving Aidan a metre away before reaching Ash. The gun is in his hands. He presses it onto her neck.

“Good job, Nardo.” She gives him a handshake. “Looks like you’re still fast at everything you do.”

He chuckles as he responds “And it looks like you’re still a shit shot.”

“I’d rather miss than shoot blanks.” Ash ruffles his hair.

“Good to see you, Ash.”

“Same to you, cunt.”

“Hey, Natasha.” Aidan waves at her.

“Aidan, you tall bastard. How's the weather?”

“Good. You?”

“I’ve been alright.” She takes the gun back and puts it away. “Are you fuckers ready to start?”

They both nod.

“Good. Nardo’s already used his zeka, so now it’s your turn. Stand four metres away.”

Leonardo-Nawa watches Aidan do just that, standing back himself in case he’s sure of what comes next. Natasha pulls out a large, red flamethrower.

“Is that new?” Aidan asks.

“Yeah, I just got it. Absolutely ace, ain’t it.”

“Very, very nice. But… not as good as my lighter.” He flicks the metallic-blue gift Leo’s father got him open.

“It’s all about firepower.”

“Good things come in small packages.”

Natasha turns her head to Leo, asking him “When did you start calling him ‘Good Things’?”

He tilts his head slightly to the right. “Apparently the second you assumed I was ‘Small Packages’.”

“Don’t worry, mate. It’s not about your dick this time.”

“Good.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re short as shit.”

“Oh.”

“Anywho, Lucky Liu. I need to burn Aidan alive.”

“Aren’t you a sniper?”

“Yep.”

“Have you used that beforehand?”

“Nope.”

“Yet you’re aiming and firing that directly at Aidan?”

“Relax. Your pet won’t get hurt too bad.”

She pulls the trigger and a ball of flame bursts out from the muzzle. Although it may look like Aidan’s been burnt to a standing crisp, upon further inspection and half a sidestep, Aidan’s spread the fire away from him. In an instant, the flame dulls despite Ash’s ever-insistent trigger finger, and she lets the flamethrower leave her hands. “Good job, boys. Next it's yumbu.” She puts the guns into a duffle bag behind her. “Follow me to the big, fuck off maze your dad made you.”

“You’ve been here for a while, haven't you?”

“Just long enough to put shit in there.”

Together they stroll through the floral rainbow known as the bushes and hedges comprising the garden of the Machiavelli Estate. It’s a death trap for anyone with a pollen allergy, but Leonardo-Nawa loves it all the same, spending time to stop and smell them as they make their way to—as Ash described it—the ‘big, fuck off maze’ his ndate had constructed for his tenth birthday party. Unlike the rainbow of everything else, the structure at the centre is formed from nothing but different shades of his favourite colour.

Ash sits down on the ground. “You really like Zalunga violets, don’t you?”

“It’s all purple in general,” Aidan comments.

“It helps that grass is violet too,” he admits to people who've known this his entire life. “Zalunga violets are just more so.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are we doing?” Aidan looks over to her.

“Team-building, boys.”

“With a catch?” Leonardo-Nawa asks.

“Yep. Catch.” She tosses objects at the both of them simultaneously.

“Aren’t these”—

“Shitty walkie-talkie toys I took from work? Yes.”

“Is this how you teach your students too?”

“Less swearing, but similar.” She mentions. “Anywho, Aido runs around in there, puts his messages, leaves and directs you from outside.”

“How many?”

“However many you really want, honestly.”

“And how does my yumbu come into play?” Leonardo interjects.

“This is more about your zeka, but you’ll see.” She explains. “Are you ready, Aido?”

He nods. Prior to entry, all the components necessary to make a gas mask float onto his face.

“Contact me when you need me.” Aidan adds.

“Got it.”

It’s not too long before he returns, maskless.

“Your phones, boys.” Ash sticks her hand out.

“Natasha.” Leonardo-Nawa protests.

“That's Mrs. Blackheart to you, mate,” she says in the tone she doesn't even use with her students.

“Who made you a Mrs.?”

“If you keep talking, it'll be your boytoy over here.”

Aidan turns to her and squints.

“Don't act like you weren't thinking it.”

Leo-Nawa sighs and slaps his phone into her hand, followed by Aidan doing the same.

A single step in, he hears the first message.

Audio Checkpoint: “One.”

Leonardo clicks the button at the side of the toy, saying “What’s first, darling?”

“Left.”

Audio Checkpoint: “Now two.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Right, forward, left.”

Audio Checkpoint: “Three. Keep going.”

“You’re on your own by seven,” Aidan explains.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

“Prep your head to take everything down; double right.”

Audio Checkpoint: “You’ve found four. Nice.”

“I’m going to give you the first half, Leo,” Aidan warns him.

“Go ahead, darling. I’m ready.” He makes small bounces from left to right.

“Forward, right, left, forward, left, forward, right, left, and triple forward.”

Audio Checkpoint: “Five. Third of the way.”

“Here’s the second half: double left, forward, double right, double left, double right and forward,” he explains further.

“Wait… what was the first one again?”

“Leo, are you—”

“I’m only joking, darling.” He laughs to himself. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Audio Checkpoint: “Six. You’re doing good so far.”

For the first time this entire challenge, Leonardo-Nawa has been untethered. The only memories he can allow himself to draw on are those of a few seconds ago. He breathes—truly breathes—in the air around him. It’s untouched now. He dare not light a cigar here—not anymore. There is too much this place holds for him to sully again. He steps.

Audio Checkpoint: “Seven. I should still be connected now.”

“Are you still there, darling?” he asks into the toy.

Static.

“It was worth a shot.”

He puts it back into his pocket and follows instructions, segmenting and throwing away any previous movements to make it easier for himself to go through. Run? Walk? Jog? He has to go fast, but he must remain measured and without mistakes.

Audio Checkpoint: “Eight. I hope you’ve found these in order.”

So far, so good. He moves with the grace and elegance he carried in his ballet days. Not a foot out of place. Not a breath misplaced. He can see the faint remnants of streamers and decorations, riddles even. They fade from his vision like a guide out of a video game. Ndate put too much love into this.

“Left, forward.”

Another section to be deleted.

Audio Checkpoint: “Nine. I wonder what the others are doing now.”

Music from times long past entered his ears, repeated many times before.

“You live, you laugh

Your time won’t pass

Today’s your day

(It is your day)

Only your day

(Only your day)

So we are here to say Happy Birthday.”

He hums it to himself, taking a small break to dance. There’s no point in escaping the memories.

Audio Checkpoint: “Ten. You are now two thirds of the way in.”

He never knew he’d be this tall. Halfway up the walls that looked like vine monoliths chose to rest beside him not too long ago. Tall enough to reach the top shelf, but not tall enough to dwarf his ima like he wished to and made joking threats about. Tall enough to hold someone, but not tall enough to stop being held. He runs his hands against them as he makes his way over. Up and down as they touch them, making invisible zigzags. High knees, and exaggerated lean and swaying to entertain him as he goes. His hair flows through the wind alongside the tassels on his jacket. Throughout, Aidan’s instructions sound far shorter than they feel. One third left. What will he find in the middle?

Audio Checkpoint: “Eleven. I wonder… Am I running out of words of encouragement?”

“You’re doing great, darling,” he responds.

Even though he knows for a fact that he can't hear him, it’s nice to hear his voice. With all its expressionless worth. It’s like a still life piece from a beyond talented artist. Although, it could easily be from his own deep infatuation. Some would call the two of them brothers, but he doesn’t like that. It isn’t true, nor is it favourable. They’ve lived with each other since they were two, yet his parents never adopted him. He never wanted them too. They never wanted to. Maybe he knew he’d fall in love with him, and maybe there was an instance or two over the years that he did too. His parents said it was to make sure he never forgot his original ones—they were close—so their interests aligned.

Audio Checkpoint: “Twelve. I don’t think I am. You’re doing really well so far.”

“I know you aren’t, darling. Thank you.”

He strokes the cigar in his pocket with his thumb to resist the feeling. He’ll smoke when he’s done. When’s done with both halves, he’ll smoke. Maybe he won’t. He shouldn’t. A drink? Maybe. Nice and cold, sweet too. One over rocks and a low alcohol content. Something that goes good with a brownie like some Maula. A reward for himself.

Audio Checkpoint: “Thirteen. I have definitely been disconnected at this point. You’ve got this, Leo.”

“Yes you have, darling.”

He’s tempted to stand still, he’s so close. No doubt it won’t affect his time. His passive use of his zeka no longer impresses him. It’s all natural. Until the next fever—provided that it comes.

The inside of his head becomes a forest after a fire. Not a single thought can live anymore.

“What did he say? What did he say?” he whispers to himself. “Which inconsequential words left his beautiful lips? Speak to me, darling. Speak to me.”

“Left, right,” his memory responds.

Audio Checkpoint: “Fourteen. You’re too close to turn back now. There’s a surprise in the centre.”

The final stretch. There are no drums or shouting in near-forgotten tongues. Instead, he hears snoring. It’s not even there, he’s sure of it, but it also is. Leonardo-Nawa is unsure of whether he’s a centimetre away or a kilometre. Even if, he knows exactly who it is. Why is she here? The fact that she’s sleeping is the most normal thing about this scenario. This reality he’s in.

“Right, forward.”

He walks in accordance.

“Ayesha?” Leonardo tilts his head, standing outside of the arc.

There she is, sleeping on a marble bench in the centre of the maze. Before he can say anything to her, another message begins to play.

Audio Checkpoint: “Fifteen. Congrats. You found all the checkpoints. Pick up Ayesha and get out. Be careful.

Having heard this, he moves further into the centre. After a flutter of her wings, she sits up and yawns.

“Oh. Hi, Nana.”

“Eesh? What are you doing here?”

Picking up her Ricochet Fusion, she replies “Sleeping.”

“Of course you were.” He hands Ayesha her custom walking stick, squatting down in front of her.

She hops onto his back. “Go, Nana!”

“Do you want to go on my shoulders instead?”

“They’ll see me over the things.”

“You’re tiny, and who are they?”

She covers her mouth as if she wasn’t supposed to say a word.

Leonardo-Nawa tosses Ayesha up and she lands onto his shoulders. Asking her to fly around would be a useless endeavour, even though after all these years he's always the first to consider it. With her cane in hand, he knows why. It would be up to him to navigate in either case. In his head, he's traversing the treacherous landscape that is his own mind, hoping to step on a memory as he makes his way out. Everything seems to be going well in his opinion: he's retrieved his kundo care package, and she's safe playing video games on the top of his well cared for curls. Leonardo-Nawa’s search has yet to bear fruit. After all, it's just started. He assumed the process would be a bit faster. Mainly because he already passed the centre where he used to stare into the sky and think of nothing. There it is, fading in the rearview. If only he could speed up his brain power with his zeka. Maybe if he's lucky, he'll have a zeyugo fever during the downtime between missions. Although, that does mean he would've changed significantly. For better or for worse.

“Ah shit,” Ayesha blurts out.

“What’s wrong?” asks Leo-Nawa, turning his gaze towards the gremlin on his shoulders.

“Wild encounter, and I can't run.”

When he turns back towards the trail, he’s met with a low energy scare in the form of a “Boo.”

His face contorts into a horror beyond his own comprehension via involuntary use of his yumbu. The living afro below him smacks him upside the head repeatedly with a shotgun he prays is empty around five hits in.

He leaves the hideous mask it formed behind in favour of his zeka, so he can maintain consciousness for long enough to finish the maze. “It's gone, Bri.”

“What did I say about using that shit on me?” Brianna asks, staring daggers at him from her wheelchair.

“I didn't know it was you.”

“Who did you think it was?”

“Sentient black truffle?”

“That's new.”

Leo-Nawa and Brianna hug in greeting, Ayesha waving from his shoulders as they do. On their way out, he steps on a memory—or more a collection of them. Countless nights where Aidan and himself would run away from the aunties and the uncles and his parents to avoid going to sleep at reasonable hours. They hid in the exact spot Bri popped out of in fact. Too many years ago. Whether it was after events which ended late enough as is, or a little four day period officially starting the second their seven day school week was through known as the week’s edge. One day it was them, next cousin Luna was added whenever she came to visit, and more typically it was the entirety of a group readying themselves to undertake the name of Silenzio. The sounds of Capsule Creatures 4: Through Wind & Water comprise the soundtrack of their short journey. He whistles along, finding solace in how it interacted with the breeze around them. Nothing else seems fitting. Her choice to play the 15-year-old game reminds him of simpler times, harder times, and just last month. He holds out a purple stuffed cigar between his finger tips, yet he neglects to light it for now.

“Rah,” shouts a voice deep beyond comprehension.

As Leonardo-Nawa’s face contorts, he’s pulled into someone's chest, ceasing the process entirely. “Okay, Gi-Gi, I missed you too. Now, please let me out of the black hole that is your chest.”

He's released and meets the smiling face of Giueseppe, a person who couldn’t be described as less than a mountain that can hug. A warm mountain, a caring mountain, being the joint youngest in the group, an innocent mountain as well, one that asks “How was your holiday?”

“It was great. Did you manage to get your licence?”

“Driving or temple?”

“Both licences.”

Giuseppe nods in response as Ayesha flies onto his shoulders and hugs his face.

In the next section, whatever it may truly mean, he sees the spots where he got pinned down by and pinned down former partners and lovers. A paradise away from paradise. Scraps of protection and contraception all cleared up by now. It's truly as clean as the first day. If he listens over the soothing melody for just a moment, his mind can bring their voices back to him. A mixtape he's burnt through too many times before. Even the worst of them were always good at what they did. However, when his parents were away, he barred off his floor and found the sheets more fitting for the role. Those and the locker room. A movie of his own making—seldom with lights, never with cameras, and never ending action.

A question knocks on Leonardo-Nawa’s mind, and he must let it in: “When did you guys get here anyway? Ash wasn't clear.”

“09:00,” responds Brianna, polishing one of Ayesha’s knives as she rolls.

“Rehearsing your little, spooky song and dance, I assume.”

“Napping,” Ayesha.

“She was. Giuseppe and I were talking to Ash about how we're doing this.” She sheathes the blade.

With his question answered, he scurries back into his mind, finding footing on the far more wholesome memories of ‘Dr. Leonardo-Nawa & Dr. Aidan: Explorers of Everything!’ A multiple season adventure drama they constructed all with their own minds. It's a proud achievement: using their imaginations so effectively. Their toys and plushies comprised the cast, and it aired between once their homework and lunch was done and way past their bedtimes. Sometimes they'd talk to their friends about it as if it was something they actually watched. Anything for the sake of a good story. They made their first ansi that way. A picture they took of them holding their earnings sits between all of Silenzio being each other's prom dates and him wearing his first pair of hearing aids.

“Sorry if I scared you guys a bit too much.” Leo-Nawa snaps back to reality.

“Eh. Your dumbass didn’t know we were here anyway,” Brianna replies.

“I managed to avoid it.” Giuseppe beams.

“Yes you did, big guy.”

He jumps up to pat him on the head, before continuing with their walk through memory maze. Having them all around him—here, after so long—reminds him of his first arrival in this place. His tenth birthday. It was wonderful. The secrets hidden in every crevice this place holds, the race to the finish, the bouncy castle waiting for him and friends long forgotten at the end. All of it is just wonderful.

Aidan and him got a little tent of their own—set it up themselves too. It’s what inspired them to start their stories in the first place. One day, a storm raged on in less time than it took either of them to blink. Ndate and ima called out their names, having started off into the maze to find them. Leo-Nawa clutched his hand and they ran towards his parents together—they were sick for the week after, but it was worth it.

They’re reaching the end, he can feel it. Memories are coming to an end. The spots where he used to drink outside of his parents' view, maybe a little too much, stare at him on their way out. Sanctuary.

It’s only now when he considers how long it’s taken for them to make their way out. They’ve kept a good pace so far. No running, but a good stride.

Aidan and Ash stand out in front of them. He tosses the walkie-talkie over to her.

They’re out.

“Congratulations, Nardo.” She starts a small applause for him. “You did well. You got five minutes.”

“Is this when the whole class gets snacks?” Leonardo-Nawa snickers.

“Well, you’re the leader. Do we?”

“Snacks sound good.” Ayesha yawns.

“First, we complete the first mission Ndate gives us. Then we can eat.”

“Group hug, everybody,” says Giuseppe in half a suggestion and half a command.

They find themselves in a warm, albeit brief, six person embrace where Ayesha makes sure to wrap her wings around everyone’s heads, giving his ears a light crushing.

While still inside, Leonardo-Nawa asks “Would you guys like to stay the night?”

“Yeah. That would be great.” Giuseppe sets Ayesha down from his shoulders.

“Sure, but I get to pick the movie.” Bri adds.

“It’s drifting time. Vroom.” The blind kundoba runs circles around the group.

“Should I order some food? I’m fucking starving.”

Aidan flicks his lighter from one hand to the next. “Meeting first.”

“Right, right, number two. The meeting.”

Leonardo-Nawa’s ndate, Don Machiavelli, sits at the head of the table. Rather than his robes from earlier, he’s placed himself in his favourite piece of formalwear: a black pinstripe suit with notch lapels over a white dress shirt and paired with black suede shoes that he bought back in Avitura. His olive skin is yet to truly feel the effects of wrinkling. A trait that—if he wasn’t his son—would be quite intimidating to him, knowing how old his ndate really is.

“Good afternoon, Silenzio.” He raises a glass of ice cold water.

“Good afternoon, Don.” Ash and Aidan.

“Good afternoon, Don Machiavelli.” Giuseppe.

“Afternoon.” Brianna.

“Good good, Uncle A.” Ayesha.

“Afternoon, ndate.” Leo-Nawa.

“Rise.”

They all do.

“Reach into the centre.”

Together they wash their hands in the bowl placed on the palm of the violet hand pyrographed into the centre of the table. One by one they grab plates loaded with a pillowy lump of nshima, imperfect cuboids of golden–brown meat drowning in their own personal oasis of thick gravy, sitting next to some diced cabbage. Silenzio feeds each other, only ever receiving from the plates outside of their control. They’re done before they know it, stacking their plates and washing their hands in new water.

“You can sit now. From now on, you have become Silenzio. A brilliant name, if I do say so myself.”

Once they’ve all sat back down, he continues “In front of you, you will see dossiers with your roles and information on your first mission. Everything should play into your strengths.”

Ayesha raises her hand.

“Yes, yours is in braille, sweetie.”

It goes back down.

“You are looking for two people: Nosiku and Mukatimui. A kundoda and kundotu who—while they look very similar—are not related. They’re members of Cielo indaco, made-women. Publically, they’re very close to Ardito and Boniface. You may not remember but they were once members of Viola Mano. We have reason to believe that they cut a deal with them: information for money. Those pieces of trash decided it was a good idea to spit in the face of me and my family, this family, by doing so. You must figure out where they are. And… if you need any extra motivation, they’re nothing more than filthy perverts. Grabbing whatever and whoever they deem fit.”

“That’s immoral,” Giuseppe cries.

“Exactly, Giuseppe.” Ndate raises his glass.

“Scum,” Ash comments.

Brianna lets out a low growl.

Aidan huffs.

Ayesha shakes her head in disapproval.

“They will be dealt with accordingly, Ndate.”

“Any questions, Silenzio?”

“Well, guys? Anything?”

They don’t respond.

“Anything else you may need is there in the dossier.” He drinks more of his wine. “Now, please, read out your roles.”

Leonardo-Nawa reads his role out loud. “Kutalifa Machela, a little known but very rich and lonely bachelor with hands in various businesses around the world. He searches the hottest spots for his next fairytale ending.”

“Samhradh Kearney, an underground fighter with a flame zeka and an undefeated streak.”

“Lan Su Chen, a silent waiter with a maroon ponytail, a pension for emeralds and a strawberry pin.”

“Lola Avia, a flashy bartender at Maids & Mugs.”

“Liam Silver, an intimidating yet friendly bouncer at Maids & Mugs.”

“Lea Cruise, a university student who finds silence in even the loudest places, choosing to study and work from clubs and parties to avoid noise complaints from neighbours. Despite this, she’s a quiet person, keeping to herself.”

Ash raises her hand.

“Yes, Natasha?” Ndate looks over to her.

“With all due respect, Don. You really want me to be quiet?”

He sips on some wine before saying “All complaints should be directed to your caporegime. He wrote all of that down.”

“Nardo, mate. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Talent Never Dies ‘92.”

“You know what? Fair.” She sits back down.

Leo-Nawa leans forward before asking “Anyone else?”

A collective silence is their response for him.

“Good. Do we need anything else, Ndate?” He sits back.

“Everything you need is there, little lion,” he responds before adding “Weren’t you all theatre kids? This should be nothing for you.”

“We were, and we can all handle this. We’re done for the day, Silenzio.” He stands.

The rest of them follow suit one by one, his ndate remaining seated. They deliver their byes to him, before heading out of the door to watch all ten Drifter movies. Leonardo-Nawa is the last, his mind already trained on the intricacies of the mission.

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