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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

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#Eddie munson x reader #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #stranger things Eddie munson #Eddie munson #stff updates

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thewonandonly · 4 months

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RETURN TO ME

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader

GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst

WC : 14,374 words :3

WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh

AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting.

Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.

But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme.

It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.

But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation.

The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo.

How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel.

You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.

All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.

The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.

They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened.

Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.

"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."

"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit.

The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask.

You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".

"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."

"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.

There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.

A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."

Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.

"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.

"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."

The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down."

You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins.

There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun.

And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second.

"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving."

Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.

"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"

"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."

"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."

"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."

The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.

The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye.

Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates."

Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."

You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break.

The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.

There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called.

"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."

"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.

Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"

"I already did, asshole!"

You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.

A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."

The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."

There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."

A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."

"You're one to talk, Yunho!"

"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.

You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.

Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.

One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"

"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.

The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"

"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.

The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.

The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating. But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.

Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept.

And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.

"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.

The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned.

"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.

Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."

"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van.

Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card."

Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"

Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."

"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.

Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."

You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.

The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base.

"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"

"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.

It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.

And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.

Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare.

Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."

You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"

But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers.

"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."

The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."

"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled.

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."

The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard.

You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.

"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."

Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.

"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."

"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded.

You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"

Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound."

The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.

"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in.

"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.

Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"

Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here."

You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"

A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."

"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"

"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."

"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."

"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"

"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."

"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."

San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"

"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."

The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch.

Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.

You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist.

Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."

You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.

Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.

You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“

Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.

Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum.

Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”

You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”

The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?

Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.

You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.

It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.

You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.

With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.

Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.

“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.

“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”

San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.

San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”

“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”

“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”

You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.

San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.

This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”

He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.

“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”

Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”

San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.

“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”

You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.

“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”

San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”

You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last?

Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door.

San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.

You turned your eyes to him, nodding.

San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.

“The Dream Texts.”

‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.

“Which are-“

“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”

“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.

San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.

“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“

The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.

“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”

Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.

You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule.

You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.

"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.

Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way.

The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.

San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in.

Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."

Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."

From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly.

You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity.

San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.

You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile.

"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.

In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.

"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."

"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."

Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.

"I hate when he does this."

How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.

Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others.

All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them.

Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi.

You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.

Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years.

Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with.

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously.

You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.

You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire.

You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"

A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously.

Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered.

You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot.

Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.

The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava.

"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor.

Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.

Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes.

You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.

This. This was your out.

You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured.

If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it.

If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved.

You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before.

You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear.

You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.

"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"

Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."

"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"

San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."

"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims."

Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."

"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."

Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.

Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?"

San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"

You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?

Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.

Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.

"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.

Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.

"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."

"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.

Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."

The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did.

"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"

You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed.

But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.

You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"

"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"

"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."

Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."

You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken.

You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.

It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.

Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead.

The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position.

Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.

Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists.

You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods.

You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.

Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.

Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there.

Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups.

The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.

This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else.

Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.

Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth.

You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes.

Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."

You sighed, nodding lightly.

Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there.

And that was definitely not going to cut it.

"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days.

Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.

You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away.

If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here.

Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.

A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.

"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.

Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.

Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed.

Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?

You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.

The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.

"Stop staring at me."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red.

Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."

Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."

The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.

You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"

Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."

You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."

Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."

Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."

Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"

"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."

Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."

Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.

"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers.

You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep."

Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."

His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had.

"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.

Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.

Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.

"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.

A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.

"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own.

The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.

Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."

You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.

Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth.

His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.

You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-

Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"

God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream.

His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"

You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."

Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.

His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.

Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"

It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.

Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.

The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.

Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.

"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head.

Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.

"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."

"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.

You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."

Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.

Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.

"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?"

Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips.

"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."

Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring?

Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.

"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.

"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."

As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.

Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."

The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.

"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.

You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"

Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."

"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"

Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."

You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"

"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.

"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."

"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.

"Maybe I did."

"Bet you did."

"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.

You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.

Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice.

"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"

Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"

The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.

"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.

"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."

"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered.

Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."

"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all.

Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"

Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.

"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."

"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.

"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."

Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.

You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.

Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."

"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."

Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room.

You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.

"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.

Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."

Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.

Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.

Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.

"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.

You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash.

Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes.

"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.

Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"

"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.

"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."

Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."

"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."

"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.

"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."

You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.

"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic."

"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."

"Hm?"

"What's supposed to happen?"

Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us."

You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"

"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."

You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."

"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."

He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance.

You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.

You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay.

You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders.

"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door.

And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.

"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."

"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."

"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.

Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.

The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.

"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.

"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.

"Shit."

"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.

San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.

"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.

You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could.

You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.

Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"

You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.

You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.

Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.

You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously.

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...

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rabbitprincessthief · 1 year

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gog i still can't get over minish cap vaati's Everything. He is So Fucking Stupid (affectionate)

Like. This guy's establishing character moment is, in order:

he's introduced as having won an entire tournament to get to touch a magic chest and get a cool sword, which was the prize for said tournament

turns around and does a goddamn evil soliloquy TEN FEET AWAY FROM THE GUARDS who were about to hand him his macguffin on a platter

(like this man fucks up his own horribly planned daylight heist because he cannot keep a lid on the dramatics for FIVE FUCKING MINUTES, IN PUBLIC)

(THE BAR WAS ON THE FLOOR VAATI, FUCKING GANONDORF PLAYS THE PIPE ORGAN FOR HIS OWN BOSS INTRO AND HE STILL KNOWS BETTER THAN THIS SHIT)

proceeds to fight the guards (it is, admittedly, a curbstomp for him, but it still clearly wasn't his plan, because otherwise why bother with the tournament)

gloats evilly

opens chest, unleashing a whole bunch of monsters

exposits out loud about Zelda's powers like a nerd while she is actively charging up her magic powers to kick his ass

RECOGNIZES and IDENTIFIES said magic as the special power carried by the female royal line

completely fails to recognize it as the light force he is currently trying to get his hands on (he spends like 99% of the game not figuring this out.)

petrifies her

(i have no idea if link could have deflected this spell if he had managed to get the right angle with his shield but i like to think somewhere there is a very short and very funny alternate timeline where it happens)

(more importantly: no part of vaati's original presumed plan would have involved doing this. he 100% created this situation for himself by being an dramatic idiot and picking a fight for no good reason.)

looks in the chest

there's no light force

considering his stated goals he might be as confused as you are about the monsters tbh

uhhh

evil laugh

teleports the fuck out

He then proceeds to spend the rest of the game trying to figure out where the light force is and ends up having to wait for Ezlo and Link to figure it out first because he was, as far as I can tell, GENUINELY stuck on this part. He fucking kidnaps and impersonates the King, not for access to Zelda, but to… send guards to go look for the Light Force, presumably because he was either running out of ideas or genuinely thought that would work.

None of the guards even had any idea what he was talking about. He's not even good at impersonating the King. He's already sent like twenty people to the dungeon by the time you get there and it hasn't even been a week. Somehow the game spins this as a cunning plan and clever manipulation or something.

(Meanwhile the guards are just. Poking around in random bushes and shit hoping to find the light force. One of them asks you what you think it might look like.)

Zelda is literally right next to the throne and Vaati does not figure it out until you find an actual honest-to-goodness LORE TABLET spelling out that the Light Force is Stored in the Zelda, at which point he's like "ahahaha you've done my work for me this was definitely my plan all along" and takes over the castle and throws a bunch of monsters at you to stall for time while he figures out how to extract the force from her. Somehow he still doesn't think to actually lock the fucking door.

#vaati #minish cap #loz #mc #he's my stupid little squeak squeak and i love him #meta #op #sorry this got long but i have So Many Words about this little bastard #i think he's a really fun foil to ganondorf tbh -#ganondorf looks like a brute force guy but in practice tends largely toward manipulating and long cons and cunning #the appearance of dumb muscle but is actually refined and clever and skilled while also still being built like a brick wall #vaati looks like a classic scheming squishy wizard guy but actually is just cheating and does almost all his nonsense very directly #and his plans tend to be either Do X / ??? / Profit stuff or barely exist at all #to the point where og four swords is gated primarily by your ability to convince great fairies to help you rather than vaati stopping you #ganondorf is a guy given power who wants a magic wish granting artefact #vaati is a guy given a magic wish-granting artefact who decides he wants more power now actually #vaati has had a significant minion approximately once (shadow link) and that was in shared custody with ganon

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staytinyville · 5 months

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OUTLAW (38)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none (Due to the nature of the next chapter there will be no taglist. Please read bottom note for more info)

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). YOU GUYS! Y'all my bad for missing Thursday's update! I live in the US so it was Thanksgiving for us and then the weekend was full of things. So I hope you can enjoy this update!

That night, the boys had taken it upon themselves to have their own small party in honor of starting the heist tomorrow. San had brought out some Moonshine they had saved, Wooyoung and Seonghwa made a good dinner. All of it was meant to keep the hopes up. A way of keeping them all happy before something that would take up all their energy.

You, however, seemed to keep thinking back to the whole thing. It might have been something the boys were used to. In fact, it was probably a lot tamer than what they were used to, but you couldn’t help to think how wrong it felt.

It wasn’t because you were going to feel bad about the entire thing–quite the opposite. Honestly, if Klein was doing something illegal with the money he was taking from the citizens, he deserved everything he had coming to him. Same thing with Quaid. The thing that left you bothered was the fact that you would be taking part in a heist.

Had you learned that what you have planned had happened from someone in town, you would've said: Well, good. They deserve something like that. You’re not above thinking they weren’t criminals. Because they were in fact just that. If it was up to someone else, you would praise them for what they are going to do.

But you grew up knowing the law, being told what was wrong and right. No matter how many times you would tell yourself that this was for the greater good, it still left a sour feeling in your gut. You could push someone for having taken a towel from the hotel and still feel bad about it. Only because you were told to be polite. Never steal. Never cheat.

But there were greater evils out there than just someone taking a towel. And your boys were the ones who were stopping them.

“You alright?” Hongjoong asked, coming to sit at your side.

“What was your first heist like?” You asked, turning to face him.

“A complete and utter uncoordinated mess.” Wooyoung cackled, moving to sit in front of you.

He sat crossed leg, placing his cheek against your thigh as you sat on a log. The rest of the boys calmly walked over, some nursing a shot of moonshine. Seonghwa took the other side of the log next to you. Mingi sat on the floor in front, wrapping his arms around the leg Wooyoung wasn’t occupying.

“That bad?” You snorted.

“We got what we needed, but we weren't exactly stealthy with it.” Hongjoong explained. “Left a huge mess behind.” He rolled his eyes, looking over at some of the members who looked away, guilty.

“But we still pulled through.” Yunho told you, coming up behind you to rest his head on top of yours. “Besides, it wasn't our problem after taking the horde. As long as the people were happy.” He shrugged.

Thinking about all those stories they were able to tell you so far, each one ended in a happy ending–for both them and the poor people of the town they were in. You had yet to hear about a heist gone wrong. The only time you did was when they claimed Yeosang got captured by the Black Pirates.

However, that was before they started doing what they do. Back when they were just teenagers, following everything their families would tell them. Nonetheless, it seemed that they had been doing heists after saving Yeosang from the Black Pirates. So they must have known what they were doing while being in Strickland. It left you to wonder how they had gotten discovered.

“Why did you guys get caught in Strickland?” You spoke up. “That you had to leave.”

“We might have gotten used to being stealthy, but this was something out of our control.” Hongjoong sighed. “We just messed with the wrong documents that gave us away. However, we got what we needed. At least enough for us to move forward with plans of taking down Strickland.” He told you.

It seemed to be the ultimate goal for all of them. Wanting to take down that compound. And you could understand why. Who wants to live in a world where no one has their own emotions? It might sound like a utopia to some, thinking that everyone would be equal, but who would want that? Who would want to lose their free will?

“Was it enough?” You asked.

“More than enough.” Seonghwa answered softly. “At least for us.”

There was no guarantee that the government would allow Sciensalver to go through with their drug of creating emotionless people. Maybe they would be stopped before it got to a certain point. But what about the corrupts of the world? The ones who would see it as an opportunity to gain control over a lot of things. Something like that in the wrong hands would not go well.

“It's normal to be nervous for your first heist.” San began to tell you. “If any of them tell you they weren't, that's a lie.” He grinned, giggling when some of the boys began to protest.

They started to bicker again, you watching in amusement as they seemed to let go of everything holding them back from tomorrow. They were so carefree. It was clear they had been doing those kinds of things for a long while. Even better when they knew how to work with another.

“I don't know if it's nervous of things going wrong or just me doing something criminal like.” You admitted.

“You'll get an adrenaline rush as you're going in. The thoughts of being a criminal will be far from your mind.” Yeosang rubbed at your shoulders, taking Yunho spot behind you. “Besides, when you leave the money at the doorsteps of people who need it, everything feels better.”

Series Masterlist

NEXT UPDATE will be Thursday November 30 (United States time)

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 4 months

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Poly! Kanej x gn! Reader - Bound to one another

A/n: This was a fun one to write, and originally it was going to be longer (kaz and inej are barely in it lol) but my trail of thought for this one ended. Regardless, I hope you all still like it!

Summary: As an anniversary gift, Inej gifts the three of you matching knives with your titles on them. You are confused by yours.

Warnings: killing, swearing, kidnapping, slavers, the slave trade in the grishaverse, violence, not too graphic gore, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pov: 2nd person] [Pronouns used: you/your] [Pairings: (poly!) (romantic!) kanej x reader]

As always, not my gif

It had been a week before your anniversary and Inej (despite the three of you agreeing not to) had decided to gift each of you a knife. As she claimed she wasn't going to be back from the seas until the day after so she had to give it to you now.

They looked the same to the unassuming eye - cold, black, slick, grisha steel daggers. Yet every one of them had a name forged onto the blade that you could only see under certain lights.

Inej's inscribed Queen of Thieves, Kaz had Crow King, and yours was Ketterdam's Ruler.

At first yours had confused you, Inej's made sense, she really was the queen of thieves, and Kaz's was just bluntly obvious but yours seemed to always escape your mind any time you felt close to an answer. How could you be the ruler of Ketterdam, when there was already a crowning king and queen?

Even after being with the two of them after all this time doubts like this always clouded your mind, they were after all together before you ever came into the picture. What if the frame didn't fit with you in it? What if Ketterdam didn't need another Monarch?

Then the doubts would quell when Kaz would brush his hand against yours, or when Inej would slide you a book that you wanted to get and hadn't even mentioned it to her yet.

Of course they didn't disappear, like Inej they were never truly gone, but right now you had more pressing issues.

"Y/n, you need to get out of here." Kaz hissed at you as the both of you had your bodies pressed up against a wall as you peaked around to check if there were any guards.

This time it wasn't a merchant's mansion where you were going to steal some jewel, or other valuable. This wasn't even a heist, originally you had gone alone but Kaz had tailed you to the slaver's house and now he had decided to show himself.

Another reason you weren't truly in rank with your lovers, you couldn't pin point their presences when they could do it with each other.

The reason you were at this slaver's house was actually your girlfriend's and boyfriend's anniversary present.

"Why did you follow me Kaz." You growl back quietly as you see the guards go through their next rotation.

"Inej is back."

Shit.

How could you forget that Inej was coming back today? The day where the three of you were having your unofficial anniversary nonetheless! Although that was the whole reason why you were here, yet it didn't push down your disappointment in yourself. The three of you had made a pact that you were not allowed to go on any jobs the day Inej comes back from the seas. Of course you were the one to break it.

Though, you weren't technically on a job.

"This is important Kaz, tell Inej I'll be there in an hour."

Ouch, that would hurt your plan a bit but you would stick to it nevertheless. You wouldn't let them down more than you already had.

"No."

You took a quick glance at Kaz to see his face glaring back at you before you looked back and saw your opening.

"I promise this isn't a job, I'll be there in an hour and if not wait thirty more minutes then you can bust me if you want."

Kaz sighed as your heartbeat quickens with the adrenaline starting to course through your veins.

"Fine, one hour."

You grinned at him before taking your opening.

His name is Ethan Sullivan, and you were going to kill him.

Your motive for killing this bastard was simple, or rather it was simple to you.

He's a slaver who not only has been getting on Inej's ass but nearly killed her. Then he captured Jesper and only let him go after he got Kaz.

While Kaz had escaped fairly quickly he still had found out your significant others weakness; each other, and now he was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Your pretty crows were waiting to find the right moment when to strike him back, but you knew he wouldn't whittle his life on a pleasantly soft sofa as he figured out the secret to take over the barrel. His plans had to be going out soon, which meant he was an admirable foe and dangerous - too dangerous. He had to be put down, permanently.

"Come here." Sullivan croaked over to you as you posed as a servant with a blanket resting over your arm. "Help me out of bed."

You had chosen the precise time where you could be alone with him, so that no one could disturb your little scheme. You even made sure to lock the door on your way in, then you would escape through his window.

Moving towards the man you felt the weight of the dagger Inej had given you weighing down your pocket.

Ketterdam's Ruler.

"Move quicker would you!" He snapped at you and it's there you make your decision.

You do move quickly, though as you do you leap on top of him and place the stygian blade to his throat.

He tries to cry out but you shush him like he's a child and press the knife close to his throat.

"Ethan Sullivan, you nearly killed the Wraith, and you captured Dirtyhands, now I'm here for vengeance."

He laughed, and it almost sent a shiver down your spine, you're sure that's the laugh many children have heard as they beg for their parents.

"I was just evening out the odds, nothing wrong about that." He grinned. "Ketterdam might just eat them alive because of it though."

Fury flashed through you, yet instead of slashing his throat right in that moment like Inej would have done, like Kaz would have finished, rather you took his throat in between your hand.

He chocked, and his eyes widened when you tightened it.

"Mercy!" He managed to chock out, the words barely leaving his purple lips.

You would grab him with an iron fist and show him what your mercy is.

What Ketterdam's mercy is.

Using your other, free hand you twirled the dagger in it and the title Inej had given you through it glared back at you, then you plunged it into his thigh.

He tried to scream but it was muffled by the hand around his throat.

"That was for my treasure Inej, she wouldn't have wanted you to suffer much."

You pulled it out and before he could even attempt to scream again you sliced open his face.

"And that." You grunted through gritted teeth. "Was for my lovely Kaz, he would have wanted you to suffer, very much."

Releasing the hand on his throat he tried to break away from your grip, but you held him down and put the dagger against his throat for the last time.

"I am Ketterdam's ruler, and this is my mercy."

Then you cut his throat.

You didn't bother to watch him chock on his own blood before you were out the window, checking your watch. You were so late, and dressed like a servant nonetheless.

Yet, the disappointment, the fury at yourself for finding yet another thing lacking that your lovers had that you did not, didn't come. You have protected your own tonight, you've sent a message to all who listen closely to the whispers of drunken shadows and barrel rats. You were Ketterdam's ruler, you ranked far above Inej and Kaz and would do anything to protect them.

The three of you were equals in this game, but when it came to their safety you had the ultimate say over this filthy city. You are Ketterdam's ruler, you keep her on line when she gets too wild, and let her off her leash when people need to pay their dues.

Like Ethan Sullivan, and you think there will be others still, that's alright with you. They will be no match for your mercy.

Words 1343

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

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19burstraat · 3 months

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I love that kaz's revenge kind of... fails. I really love that he doesn't quite get a satisfying revenge on rollins, and I've always thought that was... well, the point. I said more about the specific scene with pekka here but like. it IS a turning point for kaz, it's just not the one he wanted. kaz gets about three narrative warnings/pieces of foreshadowing that it's not going to go how he wants it to go, but he really doesn't heed them until it's too late.

the first is the broken leg from the heist on the bank that helped pekka scam them; while its main narrative purpose is that it's the source of kaz's disability ofc (which feeds into his personal arc and his dynamic with wylan), and it exists outside of the pekka stuff, it arguably has a secondary purpose as the first in a series of 'don't pursue this, it's going to hurt' warnings, which he ignores.

the second warning comes when kaz lets pekka out at hellgate for personal score settling reasons, wastes time and fucks up the plan, and then starts a big domino effect where rollins turns the dregs on him, teams up with van eck, and hires dunyasha to attack inej.

(there are lots of other mini-nods to kaz absolutely refusing to let go of what happened and it informing everything he does; making nina give muzzen fake firepox, the fake pandemic, his interest in fifth harbour being implied to be because that's where he crawled out of the harbour, his dynamics with jesper and wylan, the body boats taking everyone out of the city, etc, but these are the big slip-ups)

the third strike feeds from that; the sweet reef sugar silo job is an almost perfect copy of the second stage of rollins' scam on jordie and kaz; sugar stock prices being driven up due to scarcity. it going so horribly wrong (because pekka anticipated it, of course he did, he made it up) and almost getting inej killed by dunyasha is a final warning to kaz to, effectively, let go or be dragged. if he carries on living in the past like this, he's going to lose his new family, not just his old one.

I think pekka's inability to remember jordie's name was more crushing than kaz admitted to himself, at least on the page; "it was a start" feels almost defeated after all that, and it lacks closure. kaz only gets one more point of view chapter (iirc?) one which feels quite reticent (it's the council of tides one and it's quite short) and he's quite quiet for the rest of the book, at least until the last inej chapter. he gets probably the cruellest wake-up call he could have been given. he doesn't get what he wants, and he'll never get it, because rollins still can't remember jordie's name by the end of the novel. it's time to move on. to his credit, he does it; he does what he always does, which is rise to a challenge. half of kaz's appeal lies in his ability to do that, no matter how hard the task, but it's a hard bandage to rip off.

unfortunately he does not really let go until he's being dragged, when his idea of what his confrontation with pekka should be like, crumbles in the face of pekka just not being able to remember jordie's name, no matter what kaz does. kaz is dragged to the precipice and told, look– here's inej, here's rollins. choose. and that's when he finally has to let go and start doing things for the future and inej, not the past and rollins and jordie. (remember that bit when he's drowning in SOC and he tries to think of revenge, and he can only think of inej instead? he always knew what he was going to pick, really).

he gets rollins out of ketterdam, but it's definitely hollow, in my estimation; the one thing kaz wanted him to remember, and he couldn't, because it wasn't important to him like it was to kaz. there's one final nod to kaz making everything about what happened to him and jordie (sneaking the grisha, colm, and matthias' body out of the city via the bodyboats and 'the bodymen don't bother to rearrange them') but I think inej saying "he doesn't say goodbye. he just lets go" comes at the perfect point; up until then it wasn't true, but now, kaz has finally been forced to (somewhat) let go, having never ever done that before.

but kaz buying inej her ship and a berth at fifth harbour (where he crawled out of the harbour and vowed to start the entire revenge plot) is a nice indication that he is trying to close that part off and move forwards with her, rather than staying in the past. and I really like that it's inej who actually makes the threat against pekka's life, to make sure he stays out of ketterdam; it's hard to know if kaz told her anything that prompted that visit (if he did, I doubt it was much, and I actually suspect he didn't know she'd gone there at all) but no matter what the circumstances, it indicates that he doesn't have to go on alone anymore, and he can finally turn away from that obsession. shared burdens n that. it's not a sad ending, it's honestly a good one for both of them, but it was a pretty rough journey to get there, and he had to fail first.

#he is like a stick of rock or a boiled sweet to me. I gnaw on him until he breaks at a weird angle and stabs me in the roof of the mouth #I do feel really bad for him. like how do you even find a new purpose after all that #and no babes your purpose cannot be 'inej' that's your obsessive tendencies talking. get a hobby #six of crows #kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #soc duology #soc meta #my post #does this make sense idfk. anyway

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tangerinesilk · 1 year

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BACK UP PLAN • TANGERINE x FEM!READER

they think you’re the diesel, but you know who took the case. too bad for you that tangerine, a guy from your past, likes to shoot first and ask questions later. as fun as that is, you quickly team up to figure out who took the case and what terrible fate they’ll meet... and of course, rehash your complicated past.

rating ✷ r (18+ only, minors dni!)

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers (but still enemies), pwp, cheeky banter, loud gf/quiet bf, butchered british slang, kind of mr. and mrs. smith energy, two idiots with one task

warnings ✷ cursing, violence being the answer, guns & knives, switch!tan x switch!reader, bathroom sex, fingering, quick p in v, lots of begging, exhibitionism, mention of hands/rings (my kink lmao)

word count ✷ 3.7k

a/n ✷ my first tangerine fic :D just feeding into my fixation and going down the aaron johnson rabbit hole again. wasn't expecting to do some bullet train writing, but..... here it is. there will be no part 2! hope y'all like it and feedback is always welcomed!

Shit was going down and surprisingly, it was not by your doing.

With your back pressed against the wall of the luggage holding, you could only hope the short but thick curtain covered your figure enough that anyone who passed wouldn��t see you. As you attempt to keep your breathing low and quiet, it hitches when you hear the sudden sound of automatic door opening.

“We need to find the cheeky fucker who took our case. Swear to God, I’ll bash his head in when I find him.”

That’s a thick accent you don’t forget. You don’t want to peak, but you can see the West Ham sticker on the back of his phone.

It can’t be him. No, no…

“Lemon, I’ve gone up and down this train for the umpteenth time. I’m ‘bout ready to shoot any sleazy bellend who looks at me funny.”

Tangerine?

He was the only person you’ve been able to outrun yet here he was, only a few inches away and knowing damn well he would know how to tear into you for what happened in Copenhagen. Long story short, it ended with you tossing his favorite gun into the river and it’s made an even bigger target on your back.

While you do wear a mask that seals your identity during your heists, you prayed he didn’t remember eyes since you lost your only form of disguise when fighting the Prince. Just like you, she uses her looks to her gains, able to manipulate anyone by batting her eyelashes. She was the one with the case, and knowing her past, she’d blame it on someone else and you were most likely high up on the list.

“Alright, then. Let’s keep lookin’ for the bastard.” He said before hanging up.

You cover your mouth, your glare remaining steady on him before he takes a pause. His blue eyes search around the cart, huffing until you hear the other automatic door open. You fully step out of the small luggage spot and catching your breath, “I have to get off here.”

As the next stop was coming to a halt, a force pulled you back into the bathroom from an arm snaking around your waist. You couldn’t even gather your thoughts before feeling a cool metal pressing against your temple.

“Now I can only think of two reasons a girl like yourself is hiding behind a bunch of suitcases. One, she’s got a bit of a dickhead of a boyfriend or two, she’s got my fuckin’ case.”

You smirked, “If I had it, I would have hid better, don’t you think?” You hoped to fool him.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m that stupid, why don’t you just–” He turned you around to look into your eyes, and unfortunately, he had seen them somewhere, “Oi, where have I seen you before?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life, now if you’ll excuse me…” You trailed before he shifted to stand in front of the doorway, placing his gun on the sink counter.

“As much as I’d like to believe that, darling... you’re not going’ anywhere until I get my answer.” He said with an assertive tone, his jaw obviously clenched and his eyes piercing blue.

With his one hand on the trim of the sink and the other against the wall, he towered over you with his tall stance. He acted intimidating but you knew deep down there was hidden softness to his personality. ‘Warmer the closer you got’ type of shit.

Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his chest, hard to not stare with his first button undone and gold chain disappearing into his shirt. Able to display a poker face, Tangerine was still racking his brain around where he had seen those eyes before. He couldn’t place the last time he saw such a color.

I guess what you failed to mention is that something else happened in Copenhagen. To summarize, it involved a skin tight dress, a hotel key card and a getaway plan by dawn. What threw him off now was that you weren’t sporting the same short, auburn wig you sported that night you tried to get his attention.

“How am I supposed to give you an answer that I don’t have? You’re in my way.” You protest.

“And you’re not a very good liar, are ya?” He huffed, “Now, if you don’t have my case then who does?”

Not giving a second more, you pulled out your own gun tucked in the waist of your skirt, pushing it against his bare chest, “I think you better stay out of the way before you really get hurt.”

He didn’t bat an eye, but his eyes took a second glance at the tattoos drawn on the side of your middle finger and the top of your knuckles. Suddenly, he placed those hands from memory and the image of them running down his chest struck his mind. He looked back into your eyes and remembered how they kept steady contact as your tongue glided down his body.

“It’s been a while since Copenhagen, yeah?” He said, clenching his jaw once more.

Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have doubted him so much.

“Well you’re not fooling me this time.” He grunted, quickly taking your gun while your guard was down for a split second, “I’ll give you one last chance, love. Tell me where the case is and maybe, I’ll be and gentleman and just escort you off at the next stop.”

“So cute how you’re trying to threaten me yet use a pet name. Guess I just know how to get to your soft spot, Tan.” You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek.

Mesmerized, a gloss smooths over his eyes before his phone vibrates in his pants pocket.

“Do you wanna get that or have me reach in there?” You taunted.

He replied with an eye roll, but quickly answered. “Yeah, what?” Tangerine answered, his eyebrow cocked.

A low voice told him that they needed to see proof of the case at the next stop or things could go south. Tangerine quickly hangs up during mid-threat, and you twist your lips.

“Since you can’t find your case, I assume you’re the one getting off at the next station.” You smirked, “Glad we got to catch up.”

“No, no, you little pain in my ass. You’re gonna put on a nice smile for these massive dickheads and stall with me…” He tilted his head a bit, “As far as I know, you know where the case is so I’ll be attached by the hip to you for the rest of the lovely ride to Kyoto.” Tangerine yammered on.

You rolled your eyes but he held your chin, making you look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, does that bother you now?”

“Hmm, no. Just kind of sweet to know you haven’t forgotten about me.” You purposefully teased, your palm running down his chest before opening another button of his shirt with your one hand. It was a tactic to get under his skin, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

“You’re some tease who left me in Copenhagen, I’ve dealt with shots to the fuckin’ chest. You really think highly of yourself, don't ya.” He deflects but glances at your soft lips.

You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek, “I don’t think I have to remind you of how low I’ll stoop to get a job done… or kneel.”

Tangerine felt your hand moving through the back of his hair, carding his loose curls before pressing your foreheads together. The tip of your nose brushed against his, your lips barely touching until the train came to a slow stop.

“Well, I guess it’s time to put on a good fucking act.” You huffed, pulling away and Tangerine didn’t realize he forgot to take a breath.

♡ ♡ ♡

He turned around, opening the bathroom door in one swift motion and the two of you stood by the exit. After quickly texting Lemon that he was going to stall, he gives you a look again– this time, his eyes shifting up and down your body, noticing the tear in your stockings. He knew you were up to something, but resisting the urge to press you up against a wall was making him ache a bit.

As the train door opened, Tangerine took a step toward you, “If anything goes down, you get behind me and get back on. Other than that, follow my lead.”

You nodded, “I have limited options… how generous of you.”

The two of you step off the train, and looking around for the men you’re asked to meet. As passengers got on and off, there was a small group that came your way and you stood next to Tangerine as they got closer.

“Where’s the case?” The tall one asked, standing center of the three other men.

“Lemon is keeping it safe right now.”

“Then who’s this?”

Tangerine glanced at you, shrugging, “I’m a professional, I’ve got my back up… Peach.”

You wanted to narrow your eyes at him with a burning stare, but you maintained your composure to convince them. It was one step closer to getting the case, and it wasn’t the worse operative name.

The four men chuckle at it, and you cross your arms from the reaction, “So, are we done here?” You asked, “We’ve obviously got places to be now since your boss is up our asses about his case.”

At first, they replied with scowls until Tangerine took a step in front of you, your chest basically touching his back.

“‘Cuse her attitude, it’s been a long night.” Tangerine acted as if he were in charge of you, “But, we’re all good now. The plan is still Kyoto, ta-ra now.” He faked a grin, pushing you toward the door as the alert sounded for boarding.

Before you knew it, the train was moving and the both of you plopped into two empty seats in the quiet car. As you watched Tangerine type out a text to Lemon, you scoffed, crossing your arms as you faced the window out to the city life of Japan.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Well, Lemon still hasn’t found the person with the case… fucker could have gotten off without us knowing.”

You turned your head, “So, that’s means I’m off the list of the accused?”

“...I just don’t trust you.” He trailed, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket.

“Aw, still a little hurt from our last encounter?” You pouted, “Didn’t take you for such a softie, Tan.”

Tangerine clenched his jaw. He had little patience for your sass, but it was fun to fuck with him. You gently placed your hand on the top of his thigh, hidden under the table, and refused to lose eye contact with him. There were four stops left so, it was time to put a spontaneous plan B into motion: make him let his guard down for you.

You batted your eyelashes, “Tell me, do you still think about our night together? I didn’t mean to leave so quickly, but we had something… yeah?” You taunted him, your hand moving up his thigh. Just as your fingers were going to unbutton his pants, Tangerine quickly grabbed your wrist and put it back on his knee.

“You wanna play games, darling?” He grunted, “Then, I’ll play your game.”

You couldn’t help but admit that your heart beat against your chest, like the air in the cart had been sucked away and before you knew it, his right hand was running up your thigh until he ripped the rest of your stocking. You almost gasped, not wanting to attract attention, but he pulled it enough where your panties were exposed.

“Don’t get shy on me now, love.” Tangerine said under his breath as his hand entering between your legs. Once he pushed the black lace to the side, his two thick fingers entered your slit. The hand you had on his thigh suddenly met the wrist of his hand working your pussy.

His blue eyes softened, feeling how wet you already were and how you tried to restrain from arching your back against the seat. Being in plain light, you bit your bottom lip and concentrated on the scene passing by– obviously, not easy to focus on when Tangerine is gliding his fingers in and out of your wet slit. You could scream, knowing how deep they were from feeling his cool rings against your skin.

“I’d rub your clit, but I’d hate to make you cum right here… in front of everyone.” He looked around, as if he weren’t edging you, “You don’t really deserve to anyways.”

You took one big gulp, your hand gripping the arm rest now and you let him keep going. For as long as he wanted to and however fast he wanted to. As big of a talk you made, you were suddenly puddy in his hands– quite literally– and God, you didn’t want him to stop.

He pressed his lips against your ear, “Are you close?”

“Hmm.” You could barely let out a word, “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me now so you can cum.” He chuckled.

Just like that, he quickly pulled his hand away and he saw how his fingers were coated in your glistening cum. As he went to place them in his mouth, you pulled his wrist and tasted your own cum on your tongue.

All he could think was, “Fuck, her tongue is soft…” and reminisce the memory of his dick pushing down your throat.

You kissed his fingers before setting his hand back on his lap, and he watched you pant. Such a beautiful mess, he thought again.

Pushing your skirt back down, you crossed your legs as you ran your fingers through your hair. “You fucking ripped my nice tights…” You huffed, pulling the band from the waist and pulling them down your legs. You balled them up as you put your shoes back on, and stuffed them between the wall of the train and the seat.

You blew a breath past your lips, “Alright, that was fun but I gotta go.” You gulped, attempting to get up but he pushed your leg back down so you basically say back down.

“You’re stayin’ right here.” He said, not looking at you but around the cart, “Because the next stop, you’re gettin’ off… not like how you did right now but-”

You cut him off, “What?” You scoffed, your cheeks feeling heated, “No, I’m not getting off this train until I have the case!”

You didn’t mean to spill your own secret, but your guard had been put down. Shit.

He smirked, “See, I knew you had somethin’ to do with the case. Now you’re definitely gettin’ off at the next stop or I’ll-”

Cut off again, he sees Lemon walking down, also without the case in hand, and Tangerine quickly gets up. He met him halfway in the aisle, so you got up to see what was going on and if it was about the case.

“Who’s this? Looks familiar…” Lemon trailed as he pointed at you, then back at Tangerine.

“She’s no one-”

“Actually we passed each other in Copenhagen. You called me an Emily.” You grinned, tilting your head.

“Ah, yes. Emily, very kind but a tad bossy…” Lemon nodded but then narrowed his eyes, “Lookin’ for the case too, yeah?... unless you have it and we’re runnin’ around like headless chickens.” You could see his hand reaching into his jacket.

“I wish. Trust me…” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, and she was just leaving on the next stop. No business being around here, muckin’ about.” Tangerine said without looking at you again, just making eye contact with Lemon.

“You treat me like I’m incompetent yet I beat both your asses back in Copenhagen and managed to steal the getaway car. Why don’t you two leave and let me handle whoever has the case.” You shoved past Tangerine, “Fucking amateurs.” You muttered under your breath.

Lemon turned around, Tangerine behind him, “She’s definitely is an Emily.”

Tangerine rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get take care of her. You check back down that way.” He clenched his jaw, pushing back his rolled sleeves.

♡ ♡ ♡

The door opened to the first class cart, already imagining your hands wrapped around the Prince’s neck once you had an eye on her. Dim orange lights lit your way, a few people asleep with blankets on top of them.

Just as you came close to the lounge toward the end, a hand gripped your wrist. Before asking any questions, your other hand quickly swung down on the other’s wrist, thinking it was the Prince, but you were met with another set of bright eyes.

“Let go of me.” You muttered under your breath, not trying to get anyone’s attention.

Like deja vu, Tangerine pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door. It wasn’t as tight as the other passenger bathroom, but still had little room to move around with two people.

“Do I gotta tell you again?” Tan practically growled.

“You can’t tell me what to do. What do you want from me that you keep cornering me like this?” Your tone matched his.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils, and suddenly felt the tension. He couldn’t take his eyes from you, never admitting that he had been thinning about you since Copenhagen, so instead his lips met yours.

You weren’t surprised, but you missed his lips. You bit his bottom lip, your body relaxing as you fell into his arms. Your noses brushed together, foreheads close before you unbuttoned his shirt, your hands meeting his soft skin. It slipped past his toned arms, and he pressed your hips against the sink counter.

As you lifted your leg by his side, he put his hand underneath your knee to keep it high. Tangerine kissed and nipped at your neck after taking your shirt off, tossing it on top of the closed toilet seat. You ran your fingers through his messy curls, gripping them as you shared hungry kisses. His hard pressed against his slacks, rubbing against your inner thigh.

“You’ve got about four minutes, Tan.” You said between kisses, “I don’t know if you’re that fast.”

“You underestimate me, love.” He grunted, “It’s gettin’ a bit old.”

Suddenly, he hiked your skirt and you played along, spreading your legs enough for his body to move between them. He quickly unzipped his pants while his right hand rubbed your wet clit and the left hand against your neck.

You giggled, biting your bottom lip before slipping the tip of his cock into your pussy. You held back your gasp, giggling instead to get a rise out of him, but it just made him squeeze your neck a bit.

“Almost forgot how big you were.” You pouted, but he thrusted inside of you. You audibly gasped, and kissed his thumb pressed against your bottom lip.

At first he was slow-paced, purposefully making you beg for it. He knew your weak spots yet his head fell against your shoulder, a light whimper escaping his throat remembering how tight your cunt was. He held your leg up again, giving him an angle to work with and his cock bottomed out inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” You croaked, “God, you’re so… big. Stretching me out so good, baby.” You whined.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Tan cursed, his hips bucking as your skins slapped together. He was eager to make you cum, shattering in his arms and falling apart like he adored. His hand slapped against your ass cheek, kneading it the closer he got.

You leaned your head back, rolling your eyes back and could see stars, Tangerine practically lifting you off your feet as your walls began to tighten around his hard cock.

“Please… please let me cum.” You begged, your eyes barely open, “I wanna cum. Please.”

“Gotta beg a little more, darling.” He gulped as his pace got faster, not realizing how strong he was, “Keep those pretty eyes lookin’ at me.”

You arched your back, “Ah, please!… I want your fucking cum filling me up. Make me cum all over your cock, baby.” Your pitch elevated, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!”

He grunted against your shoulder, giving it a small bite before saying, “Cum, cum for me, love.” He lighty gasped but tried to mask it by kissing your shoulder.

Your fingers pulled his messy curls, not able to explain the complete bliss running throughout every vein and nerve in your body. His hand covered your mouth just as yours covered his, muffing your defeated moans when the two of your released inside your pussy.

As you came down from your highs, the two of you let out tired chuckles. His cock was still inside you, feeling your warm walls as he shared one last sloppy kiss.

Your thumb ran across his cheek, “Better than Copenhagen?”

He half-smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Ultimately, you agreed to let them take it from there. It was two more stops, and the train was coming to it’s next destination. You and Tangerine stood by the door, watching it slowly open and your stubbornness was eating you up. Although it was a risk to get off the train, seemed there was more than the two of you looking for the case. If anything, you loss some pay.

“You better get off now.” Tangerine told you, the two of you watching people pass.

You hummed, “I know… hope you can tell me how it goes if we ever meet again.” You sighed, placing your hands on his chest. Your eyes met with his, and he furrowed his brows. You twisted your hips, taking a deep breath before quickly meeting your lips with his again. Tender and slow.

As you pulled your face from his, you nodded, “Bye, Tangerine.”

He expected for you to pass, and he actually thought he was going to miss you.

Instead, you forcefully pushed him out the door and it closed him out from coming back in. You rolled your eyes, walking up to the window as you watched the train pull from the station.

“I really am good.” You smirked.

#bullet train #bullet train x reader #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine fic #tangerine smut #tangerine imagine #tangerine one shot

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gayboysteve · 2 months

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It makes such perfect sense to view Marmalade as a manifestation of her wild youth whereas "Baron" is the simple dreamer she wishes she could've been. His being naive and his misusage of words are SO important. He's the person that could've been. And then the "Baron" we see after leaving the prison is the grounded mature version of both mixed together- calculating but also kind, a man but also a woman. Marmalade created Baron to protect her from her trauma and to control her more wild impulses; while in kinda Baron created Marmalade to protect his inner softness that wasn't able to be beaten out of them by a cruel life. "I just want to be with my one and only. She's my girl to protect."

And Baron is talking about themselves. She is her own protector. He has his own plan for justice. Not just for himself, not even just for their mother, but for other abused kids who were failed by a corrupt system and other old people who were failed by an entirely different corrupt system. (Both are represented by the same CEO.) To do so he must let that part out of herself again- that rage-filled impulsive girl stunted by her abuse. It's not a coincidence she appears just after Baron gets news about his mother's medication rising. She is his protector as much as he is hers.

It's important that Baron describes Marmalade as his dream girl to Otis. It's just not the kind of dream that Otis interprets. She basically "arrives" ( maladaptive coping mechanisms reemerging) to plan out the heist. It isn't just that Baron is the person Marmalade wishes she could've been in another life (naive and kind and part of a community), it's that while Marmalade is also a representation of their wild youthfulness she is also now the person that the present "Baron" (recently presented with the rising cost of his mother's medication and medical bills) wishes he could embody again despite having grown out of it because of his loving mother's influence.

I think it's very important that the almost sex scene after they get the masks but right before Mama Eda "dies" is shot almost like a horror sequence with discordant music and quick flashes of Marmalade on top of Baron in their respective masks. This happened just after the heist of the thrift shop where they stole the masks, Marmalade pistol-whipping the cashier before fleeing. An old woman staring up at Baron in fear on her knees.

Whether this is the reality of how this played out (with obviously just Marmalade there) is unimportant. Baron and Marmalade are the same person and when she looks into that mask and sees herself she's horrified at what she's capable of, the kind of harm she can inflict even when her intentions are at the end of the day pure of heart. That her letting back in her past negative impulses makes her a worse person than she is as the adult "Baron" who has repressed his trauma but matured because of their loving relationship with their mother.

Mama Eda's "death" comes quickly after and Marmalade's culpability is called into question narratively. She increasingly answers that she doesn't know what happened and that she was in the other room. She wasn't present. Nor was Baron. This, I think stems from Marmalade's manifestation of her guilt over Mama Eda being in a home where they can't actually care for her directly- and as a manifestation of any potential fears he might have at the idea of attempting to do so. As well, it's just a very real fear of her mother's inevitable death, especially as the heist has already commenced and now the final act is in motion.

If her plan fails then he won't be there for Mama Eda. There won't be anyone there to deliver the pills she (and others need) and thus if the plan fails then any deterioration in her mama's health is her fault. Her culpability for the plan. For not being there. For being in another room when/if/should the time quickly come.

Which is why I think the confrontation between "Baron" and Marmalade is so important. It isn't Baron being unable to trust Marmalade it's Marmalade being unable to trust herself. Trust in her plan and so the two sides of herself stand against each other in a kind of opposition. Self-blame and doubt, rage all in response to the fear she feels at the final leg of the plan.

It's important that this is the last time that we see Marmalade as she appears in the physical manifestation of "Baron's" story. The music goes dreamlike and ethereal as they speak. "You are the man of my fucking dreams. I love you like I've never loved anyone and I've never been loved."

Marmalade is speaking to herself. The version of the man that she's become and the person she is now; it's representative of Marmalade reconciling his past trauma while preparing for the final play in her plan- enacting revenge against those that caused her trauma. Marmalade as the wild youth she was before meeting Mama Eda was someone who never felt like she was loved, and that part of herself is now looking at the grown version of her that loves her back and accepts herself for all her faults. Her parting words are, "Dream big or don't dream at all".

And then we're thrust into the action from the start of the story with "Baron" getting arrested. And so she has now fully become one with herself. Both facets of her life are on the same page, reconciliation of the self. Acknowledgment of that trauma and the plan to enact in order to move on from it.

And then the final piece in her puzzle- Otis. She obviously had been keeping tabs on him. The comment about keeping his hair long because of a show he watched about Rastafarians tells us that he already knew about Otis' mother being from Jamaica. Baron had to sell Otis on Marmalade, he had to make Otis fall in love with her and trust what Baron was telling him was true about their love for each other. Baron needed to truly love Marmalade in order for the story to sell and the plan to work. And by embodying that she finally learned to fully love and accept herself.

"I just want to be with my one and only. She's my girl to protect."

#marmalade #baron lamram #marmalade lamram #otis huxley #baron x otis #otis x baron #botis #the botis is light

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crowpricorn · 8 months

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a thing that makes me mad-ish is the way jesper is depicted as lazy and fucking up (or literally FUCKING, thanks s&b s1) on the job, while bookverse jesper is the opposite of that?

he is late on tasks (usually because of his adhd), but kaz adjusts plans around the knowledge he WILL be late (I remember something on this line in soc, when they talk about the clock chimes and how to coordinate their mission around them). it's not a "he is late = he fucks up", it's a "he will be late, and the plan is going to take that into account".

I see many text posts that make me turn my nose because at the end of it jesper is *desperate* to prove himself, especially to kaz. he is *desperate* for validation and recognition, and he doesn't "fuck up, have fun, be silly" on the job for the laughs. he doesn't fuck random people in the barns getting all his crew in danger. he CARES for his crew, he wants them to be safe. and he cares about their opinion and how much they can depend on him: he wants to be useful and good. he is not a lazy asshole who endangers his friends on purpose.

he makes mistakes? hell yeah! he fucks up! he detours to enter gambling dens (when he has free time usually!!!! or minor tasks!!! like getting ready for the heist.. not during the Actual heist)! he told around he would get rich and pay his debt? he did! he put everyone in danger, but it wasn't on purpose! he would never do that on purpose, and it shows multiple and multiple times during the heist / ck.

so!!! I think most text posts / fics / whatever that I read with lazy jesper on the job makes my skin itch because.. he is not like that. at all.

#jesper fahey #six of crows

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wolfofwritingstreet · 1 year

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You said crows are closed but I’m willing to change your mind.

Crow is the captain of the ship that takes the crows to the ice court. Giving kaz orders and such.

AN: I am sosososososo excited for season two of Shadow and Bone, so here's to opening up the Crows again. Strayed a little away from the prompt, but I had an OC in my head I was basing this off of. So, please enjoy <3

TIDEMAKER, NOT TIDEMAKER

GN!READER X PLATONIC!CROWS

"And then twist, and pull." You commanded, grinning when Inej formed the perfect Sailors knot. "Perfect, Nej."

"Thank you for teaching me." You helped hoist her up, as her side was still stiff from where the gunshot had been.

"You are an excellent student, who listens to commands." You gave a pointed look to Jesper, who slowly lowered the cannonball he was holding.

"It rolled towards me, fate." He surrendered, whistling as he walked back towards Nina who was leaning against the bannister of your ship talking with Wylan.

Lord forbid you were talked into using your baby for one of Kaz's heists, though a Crow stays with the flock - or whatever it was Jesper said to boost morale after a particularly bad heist.

You may not belong to the Dregs, or the Dime Lions, or any gang. But, the idiots currently roaming around your ship were your closest friends... and you were promised a cut if you put your tide making skills to good use.

"Inej, keep practicing. I need to find Brekker - I haven't seem him in far too long, and last time I caught him eyeing up valuable items on my ship." Inej smiled softly, bidding you farewell with a nod as she went back to undoing the knot.

You two had both once belonged to the Menagerie; and whilst Inej learned to stitch herself up and join the Dregs, you had learnt how to tie knots and fled to the seas to become the infamous Pirate, who was a fond deliverer to Fifth Harbour.

Though the sea wasn't as free as it seemed, your debt to those in higher up places meant you always had to come back to Ketterdam. To interfere with them, would be the end of your sails.

"Kaz I don't think that's a good idea." You shot back into reality, blinking against the harsh sea breeze as you spotted Kaz taking the wheel of the ship.

"Brekker, get your slippery hands off my baby."

"No wonder she doesn't flirt back, she's in love with her ship." Nina teased, but you marched past her and up the short flight of stairs to glare at Brekker.

"You were heading the wrong way." Kaz answers your glare, and before he can even utter another word you have whipped your hands in an arch. The vein in your head throbbing, as you brought the ship to a complete stop. "Could you stop that, we are on a tight schedule."

"This is my ship Brekker, I know how to steer it."

"The map says your wrong." He released the wheel, clunking his cane down heavily. "I was fixing the mistake."

"If Matthias wasn't sleeping, I'd ask him to use all that Fjerdon muscle to haul you overboard."

"You are overreacting."

"Step away from the wheel." Your voice grew harsher, as the ship rocked dangerously. "I don't touch your cane, you don't touch my ship."

Kaz stared. You stared.

Five minutes later you were happily steering the ship, as Kaz sat on a crate beside you with the map across his knees. Kaz Brekker was many things, but he knew one thing.

As Inej had her claws, you had your ship. You two would both go down fighting if that was threatened, and Kaz knew better than to push those buttons.

"Slightly East." He ordered, and you moved the wheel with one hand, using the other to guide the waters behind you so that your travels were shortened.

"Has anyone got a bucket!" You grimaced as Wylan ran out frantically waving his hands, "I think Jesper is going to be sick, and he's threatening to do it over my plans if I don't find a bucket.

You sighed with a grin, letting the ship slow as you nudged a bucket towards Wylan with water from the sea. He stared at it transfixed, before snatching the bucket up and scurrying away causing Nina to let out a loud laugh.

You were the Captain of the ship, taking the Crows to the Ice Court, and not a single one was listening to the orders you had given out earlier.

This heist could only go well...

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#inej ghafa #inej x reader #inej ghafa x reader #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #jesper x reader #jesper fahey x reader #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #nina zenik #mathias helvar

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amethyst-halo · 2 months

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got dam.............villain viva au

viva gets separated from the pop trolls like in canon, and after a while, she starts to stew on what led her to get stranded from her family. she starts plotting to unite all the trolls as one unit, and establish them as someone that other people don't want to mess with. her focus falls mostly on the bergens, but she's aware of other bigger species that she applies this to as well.

she begins rallying the putt putt trolls with her, promising safety and prosperity. pretty much all the putt putts are all for it, wanting safety with their families and friends without fear of bigger species like bergens.

she learns about the other troll kingdoms, and this only enforces her ideas. she finds an old map showing the golf course and bergentown, and clay helps her estimate about where the troll kingdoms would be in relation. she and a small patrol head out and, after like a week, find the rock troll territories. they quickly meet barb who's plotting her strings heist, and viva makes a deal with her, offering her and her group's assistance in return for shared power, which barb agrees to.

meanwhile, poppy and branch do the whole first movie thing pretty much on script; chef takes her friends, they go save them, creek betrayal, bridget saves them, poppy teaches them how to be happy. it all pretty much runs as expected up until poppy is about to be crowned, when they're interrupted.

rock trolls swarm them, catching everyone off guard, and scoop up all of the pop trolls. poppy, branch, and peppy end up meeting barb, who is very smug. they demand to know what's going on and who she is, and barb basically is like "your savior, obviously. you're welcome." they're confused, and barb tells them she knows the bergens were going to eat them. when poppy tries to correct her, she won't listen, waving her off.

barb then holds up the pop string, saying she took the liberty of grabbing it while they were gone. peppy blanches, but poppy is confused, and barb explains the strings and how pop ruined everything for everyone. branch asks why they would save them, if she seems to hate them so much, and barb shrugs and says she got a special request.

theyre taken to volcano rock city, where they're kinda locked up and watched closely by rock trolls. branch notices quickly that some of the trolls look different, specifically that they look like pop trolls and aren't dressed like rock trolls. poppy doesn't think much of it, saying they have other things to worry about.

it's a little later that there's a commotion. and then someone comes in and spots poppy, getting excited. peppy recognizes her, and asks "viva?" viva is ecstatic to see them, saying she wasn't sure if they'd still be alive. poppy doesn't know who she is and is confused, and viva slowly clarifies that she's her sister. when poppy is shocked by the info, viva sends a look to peppy and asks why he hadn't mentioned her.

she doesn't let him answer, letting poppy and peppy out. when branch is mentioned, she perks up, and lets him out too. she leads them away from the prison and starts explaining that she came looking for them and has big plans, but doesn't really tell them what the plans are. she leads them into a room where clay is, and clay and branch stare at each other for a second before clay absolutely lights up.

clay very excitedly starts looking branch over, talking about how much he'd grown and how he'd missed him. poppy, confused, asks branch who this is, and viva and clay put together that he's branch's brother. poppy gets excited and asks why he never mentioned a brother, and then puts together that it's clay from brozone and gets even more excited. branch literally tells her to slow down because she's about to pass out from all the revelations.

branch then asks why viva and clay seem to be on barb's side, and viva explains that it'll be explained in due time, but she promises they're going to be safe no matter what. viva then explains she intends to keep all trolls safe, so that stuff like trollstice won't ever happen again. she urges poppy and branch and peppy to trust her, and poppy and peppy agree. branch is a little hesitant, but agrees as well after looking at clay for a moment.

all the while, barb is running around gathering the strings and the other trolls. as they're brought to volcano rock city, poppy is meeting the other leaders, who mostly aren't that thrilled to see her. she assures that everyone is safe, though it doesn't really assure them. branch is still skeptical that viva is going to help them, and voices his concerns a couple of times, but poppy is insistent.

eventually, all of the trolls are gathered, and barb starts her show. she reveals the leaders and her guitar, and is about to begin transforming them when viva appears behind her, telling her she's done enough.

viva takes the guitar, changing the rock strings into pop. barb demands to know what she's doing, saying this wasn't part of the deal, but viva counters that she never agreed to make everyone rock. barb tries to take her guitar back, and viva uses the power chord on her, making her a pop zombie. everyone else is alarmed, and viva takes over, explaining her intention to unite them to protect them. she basically says to join her or she'll transform them too. some trolls try to refuse, but get changed. everyone else nervously agrees.

viva takes the trolls to pop's village, as it's in the middle of the territories. she starts making the village larger to handle the increase in trolls, while also working to make sure she has all of the trolls where she can protect them. poppy is pretty sure she only has good intentions, but branch dislikes how things are going and is trying to insist that this isn't right.

viva eventually starts working on gathering up trolls outside of the troll kingdoms, set on protecting them too. some of her trolls manage to find and catch john dory in the neverglades, which neither branch nor clay are super thrilled about. jd is excited to see them, though, and is eager to catch up. when branch expresses his dislike of viva's plan, jd agrees with him, stating that protecting everyone was overkill and she wasn't going about it in the right way.

john's post card leads them to finding bruce, but bruce is managing to avoid getting brought back. eventually, clay himself goes to get him, and bruce is excited to see him at first. but then he notices the star on his arm, recognizing it immediately. he asks clay not to do this, and clay shrugs and apologizes but still takes him back, away from his family.

viva figures out somehow that floyd is at mount rageous, and when her trolls go to get him, discover he's trapped in the diamond bottle already. they manage to get him out of there regardless and bring him back, where he reunites with his brothers. viva talks to him alone, explaining her intention to protect trolls from stuff like what he'd gone through, and offers to free him if he helps her. after a little convincing, he agrees.

she gets his brothers to free him with the perfect family harmony, and floyd joins clay in helping viva, much to their other brothers' dismay.

all the while, branch and also poppy are slowly gathering up a rebel group against viva, meeting in branch's bunker since viva doesn't know its there. trolls like bruce and john dory, the snackpack, riff, prince d, and a variety of others are a part of it, all trying to come up with a way to stop viva. poppy is adamant about viva having good intentions, which some of the rebels agree with.

the group debates what viva's goal is; poppy is pretty sure it isn't a grab for power, which branch agrees with. theyre pretty sure she is genuinely trying to protect them from harm and is just going about it weirdly. poppy points out that she had barb "save" them from the bergens despite the bergens being their friends now, and it could be simple enough to just tell her things are different than she thinks. branch hesitates, unsure if talking will get them anywhere, but agrees to try.

a small group approach viva; poppy and branch go to talk with her, with a few others as backup in case things get weird. poppy explains that she knows viva just wants to keep everyone safe, but things have changed, that the bergens don't eat them anymore. viva doesn't believe her, calling it a dumb joke. the more poppy tries to reason with her, the more tense and angry viva gets- viva snaps that she's protecting her, and poppy says she doesn't need protecting.

it sort of spirals into an argument where viva feels cornered, telling poppy to stop and leave her alone. branch and the other rebels join in to try and reason with her, which only makes it worse. poppy sees this and tries to reach out, to offer comfort, but viva lashes back completely on instinct, knocking poppy away.

everything stops then as viva realizes she'd just hurt her sister, and poppy is a little stunned but clearly doesn't blame her. viva, overwhelmed, kicks them out and tells them not to bother her or she'll change them with the power chord. poppy doesn't want to leave her alone, but branch pulls her out of there.

with their plan having gone completely sideways, branch states talking it out isn't going to work, and poppy is too subdued and upset to argue. they start trying to figure out how to physically stop her, and riff points out the guitar, saying if they can get it away from her, that stops a significant threat as she can't change them anymore.

they plot to steal the guitar, certain that if they take it viva will slow down enough for them to reason with her. poppy insists on helping because she wants to help viva.

viva has plans for a presentation or concert or something, because she's gathered all the trolls she can reach, in order to rally them against people like the bergens. the rebels sneak around and manage to interrupt viva's thing, poppy getting hold of the guitar. viva again insists she's protecting them, and poppy insists they don't need protecting. viva basically pleads with her, stating she won't lose anyone again, that she can't lose anyone again. poppy says she won't, that things have changed and it's better now, but viva hasn't even looked to see it. she points out that she's done damage, having forced the trolls into essentially one genre and tore some away from their families, like bruce. viva says she isn't listening, none of them are, its for the better, it has to be for the better, because their music is what keeps putting them in danger with other species.

before poppy can react, viva grabs the guitar from her again. and then, she smashes it, destroying the strings and music along with it.

as everything falls silent, viva stands straight and says basically, "there. now no one has a reason to hurt us anymore."

everyone kinda just stops, those changed into pop zombies slowly understanding what happened. it's a lot like the end of world tour, where they start making music anyways.

poppy tells viva that life has risks, and that there are bad people, but it isn't worth changing who you are. being yourself brings joy to both yourself and others. their music isn't something she can take away and she shouldn't do so anyways. viva's a little freaked out, pointing out bergens ate them for their happiness, and people like velvet and veneer used them for talent like they had with floyd, and she just doesn't want that to happen to anyone else. poppy says that's why they have each other, to protect one another as they go around being themselves.

i don't know how to word the last message and i don't know how to wrap it all up nicely but YEAH!

#wheezes #trolls #trolls au #sketch speaks #villain viva au #yea this is rough and subject to change bc im still figuring it out all the way but this is what i got so far :3 #its fun i like it

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darling-i-read-it · 8 months

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is it possible to either request a fic or hc whatever you feel like doing of trevor?

something kind of like that college request with love sick smitten nauseating trevor and his sweet little girlfriend who walks in to them planning a heist. she knows what he does but she doesn’t want a part of it and neither does trevor but she still supports him. he does anything in his power to keep her out of it. but does he get turned on seeing her hold his gun? yes. will he eventually try to get her warmed up to straddling him with a gun pointed at his neck while she rides him? absolutely.

but putting her in danger is something that makes him physically sick. maybe during the heist she somehow ends up in crosshairs, similar to what trevor did in north yankton when he put that gun to the woman’s head “if you move i’ll shoot her brains out”

but trevor just sees red like his special ability. killing anyone who angers or threatens his baby.

HI literally making me absolutely feral i hope you enjoy <3 <3 Trevor you're such a real one

tw for guns, violence, vague sexual descriptions, typical trevor stuff

Trevor fell in love with you because of your innocence. All the girls who loved him where like him, something similar in their hard gaze, the smell of alcohol on their breath. Not you. You were different.

he swore it was a good thing, he promised Ron and Wade that you were happy with him.

they never believed him. it was hard to believe Trevor on a good day

but they could see from the way you were with him that he was telling the truth. You would sit in his trailer, gently cleaning up without being invasive, laugh at his dumb jokes, call him cute. There is no one someone who didn't love Trevor would do all that

He was nauseating about you. He talked about you all the time, bragged endlessly, always had your name on the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah, I brought her out to dinner last night. She tried to drink me under the table but I had to bring her home," he would say, with heart eyes.

"She didn't make me take down my posters. Would Amanda do that for you Michael?"

"We had lots of fun yesterday. Don't worry Ron, I cleaned the couch. "

He loved that he had something in his life no one else did. You were his unicorn.

Obviously spending so much time with Trevor, it was easy to know what he did for a living. He didn't like to hide anything from you and he didn't like to hide his job in general

Trust that he would be honest about everything. Down to the last penny, he would tell you what he did and why he did it (even if his reasonings were always a little skewed)

You didn't want anything to do with it. You had no interest in going to jail and he perfectly respected and appreciated that. He liked having someone on the outside anyway

Plus, you were the person he could go to outside of all of that. He had plenty of friends in the business, he wanted something that was normal and just for him

that being said

Trevor does love a little bit of corruption. He has never said no to taking you out shooting.

"Just...like that," he muttered. He had his hands on top of yours, his body pressed against your back. You had one eye closed like it would help you aim the gun in your hand. You starred at the beer can on the stump, breathing in and out evenly, just like he had taught you. "Whenever you're ready doll."

You pulled the trigger. Your ears rang out. Trevor didn't believe in ear protection (or any protection for that matter). You missed, just barely.

"Am I getting better?" you asked, hopelessly. You had asked him to teach you to use a gun just in case someone came home while he wasn't there. He agreed. You needed to know how to defend yourself.

"Oh so good. Honestly better than most of the men I've worked with." He loved seeing a gun in your hand. He loved when you brandished it, talking like it wasn't a fully loaded weapon in your hand. He liked when it got a little close to him, making him twitch a bit.

But that's a whole different battle.

Other than that, you avoided all of his lifestyle things. No heists, no ride alongs. He wanted you as safe as humanly possible.

Naturally, if you were around, you were bound to walk into a heist planning without meaning to. You didn't recognize the concentrated look on Trevor's face as he starred at the wall, full of papers and lines and pictures. You had just been grabbing some groceries before coming back to Wade's cousins.

Michael Townley was there, his eyes trained on the wall as well.

"He's no good. We need someone who's done this before Trevor," Michael was saying. You slowly closed the door, approaching the wall. Trevor was sitting on the arm of the couch.

"And Frank is? I mean, I like the kid, don't get me wrong. But can he handle all that?" Trevor's sounded unenthused. He turned to look at Michael and saw you standing behind him, grocery bags in your hand. He stood up quickly. His sudden movements caused Michael to turn around. "Hey baby. You're back early."

"The other store I wanted to go to was closed," you explained. "What's all this?" You asked even though you knew the answer.

"Nothin'," he promised, approaching you. He grabbed a bag from your hand. "You grab beer?"

"Course."

"Atta girl." He helped you put things down on the kitchen counter. Michael gave you a nod in acknowledgment. You returned it with a thin lipped smile.

"Are you guys planning a heist?"

"No need to worry about that dollface," Trevor said. "We can finish this up later." He turned to look at Michael, eyes like daggers, daring him to defy. Michael nodded once. He knew what it was like to want to keep someone out of the danger.

"Yeah, no problem."

but the information stayed up there. You could look at it while you watched the TV, making sense of the ramblings. They'd be down by the docks.

Trevor ignored any questions you asked about it. You didn't want to know, he knew that. You were just curious.

The day of, he planned a full day. Heist at 9, lunch with you at 1. You would come grab him from a safe point, he made sure of it.

Then things went array. His timing had never been great and honestly, he probably should have made sure the safe point was completely safe. It was the exit area, the place where everyone was supposed to meet up when things went well. Everyone showed, all the goods were there...

they were followed

You were already there, waiting with your car, sitting on your phone

You saw everyone rolling up, tires screeching and people running

Guns were going off. You ducked your head below your steering wheel and freaked out silently

Someone was running towards the car, grabbing your drivers door, opening it up because you didn't bother leaving it locked. You didn't even think

Someone pulled you out of the car, tossing you on the ground. You saw little to nothing for a moment, eyes blacking out as you looked around the soon to be chaos

You stood up shakily and saw the man who had pushed you down. Someone completely foreign and honestly scary looking. The second you registered his face, it had been blasted off.

You screamed, almost falling over and scampering away

Someone had grabbed your arm, keeping you up

"Right here doll."

You knew the voice well and almost melted into Trevor's touch, a heavy sigh of relief leaving your lips. Even if everyone was still shooting, you were safe with Trevor. He'd never let anything happen to you.

He dragged out of the fire and placed you carefully behind a car.

"Stay here till I get you." He gave you a gun and said nothing else until he had turned around.

You peaked over the car. There were dozens of men pointing a gun at him. He looked untouchable, guns in both hands, face hard, eyes red.

"Now who wants to fucking try it? Huh?"

You had never seem him move so efficiently. It was like he couldn't get hurt at all. His vision had slowed and everything in his way was gone.

He didn't stop until the very last man was under his boot and a gun was through their temple.

Then he ignored all of his comrades to run to you, skidding on his knees to make sure you were alright.

"You alright baby? They hurt you? I'm so sorry you had to be here."

His voice was rushed and honest. He had you in his arms, breathing harshly. You held him tightly against you, breathing in the smell of his shitty cologne. You had never been so happy to see him.

#trevor philips x reader #trevor philips x fem!reader #trevor philips imagines #gta imagines #trevor philips headcanons

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 6 months

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Halloween HCS - Rogues Party

Alright everybody it's that time of year. My personal favorite time of year, the spooky season. So what better way to celebrate than to write Halloween headcanons for all the rogues? Going for general plus what they're doing this year specifically. Also surprise, I've added Music Meister (Clarence Rinette fan name is from @itsmalachitenow)

TW: spooky shit, murder, gore

Riddler

Thinks himself the belle of the ball, so to speak. Decked out in full elaborate costume. He has a ridiculous budget for this. Sometimes he stays in and gives out candy, but normally, he either wants to set a huge heist or go out to party. He needs to peacock every once in a while, or emotionally he'll start to wither. Matching costumes with his s/o are a must ;)

This year, he's assisting Jonathan in his haunted house venture (discussed below). The moment Jonathan announced to the dork squad what he'd be doing, all of them teamed up in their own ways to assist in making a horrific Halloween experience for the people of Gotham. Edward put himself in charge of animatronics and robotics.

The theme ended up being a literal haunted house, the entire building one giant horror maze save for several control rooms and employee areas- Which means a lot of hidden hydraulics in the walls and moving pieces Edward gets to crack his knuckles and puts together. He even rigs a set-up for an actor to fly across a room in ghostly pallor.

His pièce de résistance, however, is the start of the maze in the Library that has a hidden passageway that opens to the inside walls of the house. That plus some spooky elevators that transport guests to different levels- Jonathan couldn't have asked for better technical aspects.

The whole night he's hanging out in the control room, cackling when one of his devices gets someone. There will be parties on other nights he'll go to. He wouldn't miss this for the world.

Penguin

When he was younger he disliked Halloween because of bullying. That his face was horrific enough to scare anyone. It killed the fantasy and fun of wearing a costume. Even as his mother kissed his forehead and asked why he wasn't going out with friends-

Now he quite enjoys it. He doesn't really dress up per say, but there's always some fun parties to go to. Have some drinks, mingle, make some connections for the next big crime he's planning, then pass out in a pile of Halloween candy wrappers on his fancy chaise lounge. He'll do his best to save you your favorite if you tell him.

Now, if his s/o wants to dress up, it's a slightly different story. He'll be surprisingly anxious about it. Certainly it's not a lack of money or that the idea is displeasing to him. He doesn't want to be an "ugly" monster, but he "can't" play someone handsome. There's definitely a mental block there that he can't quite get past emotionally.

HOWEVER. If you suggest a mobster for him and being his little moll/arm candy? Period piece? He can do that. Big old cigar and everything. Probably commissions Jervis for the work. The guy will make sure it's all accurate.

He rolls up to the Halloween party at Harley's place with a box of "goodies" he has one of his underlings haul in. Expensive chocolates filled with liquor. Don't ask where he got it. Tonight is gonna be a fun night.

Mad Hatter

Halloween is a special time for Jervis when he can get really wild with costuming. Besides patching and creating things for other rogues, of course. If there is any kind of contest, he is likely going to win it. In fact, he's been banned from several around the city for winning too many times. If his s/o doesn't ask him to do their costume, he will pout a little. Even if he can't do the entire thing, let him help! He has an eye for this, you see. And maybe one year, they'll dress up as Alice, for him?

Of course he gets put in charge of costuming for the Haunted House production. Period accurate post-WWI clothing? Give him something difficult to do, why don't you? He does have to be told to keep eyes off some of the scare actors because they're all so pretty and lovely and look so good in his outfits, maybe they'd like some of his special tea- Jonathan helps him keep on point. There will be no Alice searches here.

For the majority of the night, he's manning the backstage area with Edward. Checking cameras that things are running smoothly. Then being available for actors who need a touch up! When one of the actresses comes in crying because some creep grabbed at her, Jervis is scuttling into the behind the scenes walls before Edward can stop him.

He comes back, slightly ruffled and helps the young woman calm down with (non-drugged) tea before sending her back off ready to go. The dork squad can drag the creep out from under one of the beds later and really put the fear into him. Maybe they'll kill him. Perhaps just a maiming. Depends on how lenient they feel later.

He's going to keep the costumes afterwards for different potential projects later unless an actor gets particularly attached. You never know when you'll need something like this!

Scarecrow

His Halloween consists of three things depending upon the year and the current situation: An elaborate spooky plot, a Halloween party to top all others, or a haunted house. Sometimes involving fear toxin! Sometimes not! Again, depends on how he's feeling.

Originally, he had intended on doing everything for himself for the haunted house. He's more than capable of doing it all himself, certainly. Yet, when he mentioned it to his closer companions (or as some call them, "the dork squad"), they all insisted on helping him. Annoying but... he supposes it's rather nice to enjoy this holiday with friends outside of Arkham. He's very clear, however, this concept is his and he has final say.

The story... Oh, he has fun with this. An old spinster and her daughter waiting for the prodigal son to return home from the war... several years too late. The daughter lures inhabitants to the home where the two women overpower them to keep them "forever."

His favorite part of the haunted house besides the writing, is the cellar. As the participants have been led upstairs, then faked out down to the cellar- it's a graveyard of bodies buried in the walls and the ground. Writhing. Trying to get out. They exit with the serial killer chasing them out of the hatch that leads back outdoors. With a ramp for accessibility, of course.

It's a hit! There's a line out to the street and the ten dollar ticket entry fee is definitely racking up some nice change as a bonus. He sets himself up as a scarecrow in the field at the exit, giving one last scare to the guests as they leave. He didn't even need to pump fear toxin in this time!

At the end of the night, the dork squad has drinks after the closing and Jonathan has to admit it wouldn't have been the same without his friends.

Reads "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" at least once. As is tradition.

Music Meister

Normally, Clarence Rinette is quite busy this time of year! If he's not involved with a stage production, he's decorating his home to the nines for trick-or-treaters. Big crafty, theatrical nonsense. Don't ask him how he paid for all this (he got an amazing deal through some vocal persuasion-). Someone once tried to suggest becoming a scare actor- but the truth is if he scared a child, it might actually make him cry. SO! He couldn't be a full on jumping at people scare actor.

Then he hears about Jonathan's plans for the season. Oh-ho-ho! A haunted house? For him? ("No," Jonathan quips, "it's not for you at all-") Well, he's got to be involved in this. It's a theatrical production-! ("It's not a full on production-" Jonathan informs him) ALRIGHT- but it's environmental storytelling. That's set-design. That's him!

People might not expect it of him, but he's done a bit of everything in the theater world. Backstage, lighting, sound, set design and building- and of course as a singer and lead, where he truly belongs. Yet, he's having a field day bringing in furniture for the haunted house. Setting up spiderwebs and aging some of the walls and props. Atmospheric sounds and smells for some of the rooms.

He's also in charge of assisting Jervis with makeup and making sure actors are ready- Before dressing up as an actor himself, you know. Gives himself a guide role in the Library to hype people up with the "history" of the house. Plus the hidden passageway reveal. Loves every second of it.

Victor Zsasz

Hardly registers Halloween. Every day is Halloween to this guy. Look at the people he associates with! He's surrounded by dead things all the time. How is this one time of year really that much different except everyone else is on the same page? What, he's supposed to dress up? He's got killing business to do.

Picture it. His target is walking around Gotham, feeling tipsy in their angel costume. The biggest Halloween party in town always spills out into the streets. A figure is closely following them in a full latex mask and black outfit. "Fake" machete at their side. The angel stumbles into an alleyway, the figure following close behind. The figure is Zsasz, in case you didn't guess, and he's got an angel to carve up for dinner. Cuts their heart in half as he leaves it next to their corpse. Takes a couple of their teeth for souvenirs. The rest he'll toss in the harbor. Have fun identifying that, GCPD.

If for some reason he IS home, he'll pass out candy to kids. Hawaiian shirt to cover his chest of scars. Spooks teens away that he thinks are too old. Gives handfuls of candy to everyone else. Has a straight face for every single person and the parents are definitely checking that candy when they get home (it's fine).

Might be convinced to dress up if his s/o really begs. He'd like it if they dressed up in something suggestive (for him) but he'd understand if they didn't want to. He will let them know that whatever they wear, he's probably taking it off with his knife by the end of the night.

Killer Croc

Normally, he actually doesn't like Halloween much. People assume his face is a scary costume which, frankly, is a pretty awful feeling. Sure, he can walk around easier, but it doesn't stop the stares. Now people feel inclined to ask him for photos. Or worse, they just take them without asking. More than usual.

Several parents at the daycare he sometimes works security at decide to do group trick-or-treating. They tell him he doesn't have to join in or... you know, he probably has plans, nevermind- He's already agreeing. Chaperone, he can do that. Better than staying home to watch the tube and not answer the door all night. He always leaves a bowl of candy but they always end up knocking anyways.

One of the kids gives him kitty ears and he rolls with it. If anyone asks, he makes a graveled, growling "meow" in his voice that makes the children giggle. Waylon watches the groups of people around them, glaring if any of them even look like they might try to pinch someones wallet or start bullying.

There is one Incident that occurs at a place with a porch in the downtown area. Waylon recognizes it from a mile away. A guy in a reaper costume is sitting on a chair. The other college kids are drinking beers telling kids to go up. That it's safe. They won't get scared. Then the man in costume scares the life out of them to the raucous laughter of all of them.

One of the parents seems to be trying to ask them if the children are going to get scared. Of course the people at the house lies. Instead of guiding the children away, however, Waylon grabs one of the kids by the hand and steps onto the porch to the man in costume. Leans down and gives his best crackling "meow" into the masked face of the man. Do it. Scare this fucking kid. He can smell the fear on the reaper as the kid pulls him away.

"Don't scare any more kids." He tells the college students. Shaking, they nod before going to check on their friend. Genuinely, he's very proud of himself for handling it in a way that didn't phase the kids.

Harley Quinn

If she's dating someone, there's a 90% chance they're doing some kind of matching costume situation. It's like. The rule for couples! They'll be really cute or really scary or both! Joker would NEVER do anything like this with her no matter how much she begged and pleaded. Consider this part of her getting to just be happy with herself and the things he wants to do with her life.

This year, she is throwing a party and it is going to be talked about for years afterwards. She figured if Jon isn't doing it this year, it's her time. She and Ivy attend his haunted house the night before in support. At one point she almost jumps into her friends arms with a particularly well timed jump scare out of the wall.

The theme for her party (that no one is expected to dress for) is undead glitz and glamor. We're talking the Hollywood Forever Cemetery kind of style. There's skeletons dressed in 40s and 50s red carpet affair around the apartment. Harley herself is a zombified Marylin Monroe type. Curled blonde hair and full makeup, one side of her face "split" to show fake teeth on her cheek.

There is a photo station for everyone attending with a camera she borrowed from Edward for high quality shots. Plus a polaroid. For funsies! It has props and a cardboard standee that Harley painted herself to look like an old fashioned hotel ballroom.

There's old halloween movies playing in one room for people who need a break. Food on the table in one room. Another is playing some spooky music for dancing. Everyone has a little something for them! Everyone gets a tad too drunk but overall it's a great time.

Poison Ivy

Pamela is always doing a sexy costume. She and Selina have a slight competition each year on who can show off the most tasteful amount of cleavage in an outfit and have the most heads turn. It's not malicious or catty (ba-dum), but rather a friendly thing where it's the two of them in on the joke. One year Harley convinced them to do a very cute-sy group look as the Gotham City Sirens. There's several lovely posed photos from the beginning of the night and then a very drunk selfie of the three of them at a pizza place at the end of the night. The latter is Pamela's lock screen on her phone.

For the party, Harley asked for some minor assistance which roughly translates to "keep me reigned in or I'll go way overboard." A lot of shopping and keeping in budget. Dressing up the skeletons and helping to decorate. She even allowed Harley to borrow some of her "spooky" looking plants to add to the aesthetic.

Pamela asked Waylon (who already had plans) for some recipes and added her own recipes to the mix. There's some that are more elevated since it is an adult party. There are plenty, however, that are incredibly cheesy- like crushed oreos to mimic graveyard dirt. She dresses up as a spooky Mae West with floral/vine theming. Full curves on display. There's several non-rogues who try to hit on her and she kicks them from the party.

Two-Face

His costumes are usually incredibly on the nose. Angel/Devil. Black and white vs color. One year they even did Roger and Jessica Rabbit from "Who framed Roger Rabbit?" Before you ask, obviously Jessica was played by Harv, one fake tit barely held in a dress. What normally starts out as a night out going to a party ends up with very drunk Halloween karaoke where Two-Face sings duets, both parts.

If they have an s/o, the dynamic changes a little. Do they want to do a trio costume? A couple costume and Harv and Harvey have to just agree on one harmonious look? Honestly they're fair game with whatever. It's not often they've had a third that wants to be involved in the holidays with them. Being a kind of sort-of trio can complicate things or put people off.

This year in particular they were a blend of rollerskating Ken and white fur coat Ken from the new Barbie movie. It is... hideous. It is garish. Who the hell agreed to make this- Harv is struggling with the one rollerskate on his side but at least Harvey has them standing upright. He agreed on a whim to be white fur coat ken and now it's kind of itchy.

The photos at the party, however, are fire and Harley makes copies for herself because it's so delightful. In hindsight, they had so much fun and it was one of the best years.

they do sing "Barbie Girl" by Aqua and "Barbie World" from the movie with Nicki Minaj and Ice Spice as a theme by the end of the night. There is video.

Black Mask

Ironic or no, he loves Halloween. The mythos of wearing the face of a monster to prevent yourself from being haunted or taken by spirits? That's SO his thing. Before the incident in which he "gained" his new face, he would drop insane amounts of money for costumes and sfx. Movie-quality for the big parties at Sionis. Due to being a makeup company, they had some big ones over the years for Halloween.

Now he tends to get busy, but appreciates the masks on the market. If there's a particularly good one he finds that can be set permanently, he'll add it to his collection. If an s/o happens to show him scare maze videos with their different sets and makeup, he might actually find a special interest in it.

When he finds out Harley is throwing the Halloween party this year, he's throwing his own opposing party. A better party. A party with blackjack. And booze!

The party ends up being a lot of underground folks and their partners trying to out-look each other and network. If Roman doesn't have a partner at this point, he has some arm candy in a "sexy" whatever costume to make him look good. When a partner is in the mix- he gets to drop the money on THEM on wild costume and sfx shit. Think of Heidi Klum Halloween but a team effort. Plus bonus: to do the sfx, he'll have to make a mold of your face that he gets to keep and look at amongst his collection.

Mr. Freeze

He's working, leave him alone.

Used to really like passing out candy to the kids with Nora. Fell out of it for a long time. Some years due to incarceration. Others, because of his own mourning. Now he tends to be working towards a cure in solitude far away from civilization to not be bothered for things like holidays.

What he does this year is very dependent on if he's seeing someone or not. If he's seeing someone, he rather wants to stay in and celebrate "normally." Small decorations around the house. A bowl of candy and he dresses up as a space man- The two of you sit in front of the house passing out candy. He delights seeing the kids and complimenting them on their costumes.

If he's by himself, he ends up going to Harley's party and sitting by himself with a drink in his hand for most of it. So awkward and uncomfortable but there is something about his friends not wanting him to be alone. They convince him to a group photo that he ends up framing to put in his lab next to Nora's picture.

Either way, Christmas is his time, so the moment it hits midnight October 31st, everything Halloween is GONE. Now that he's celebrating holidays this year, he's had to restrain himself hard-core so he's not that guy rushing everyone to Christmas.

Ra's al-Ghul

Does Ra's really celebrate holidays? Not unless he's with someone where that's important to them. Let's be honest, he's so old, he was there for some of these celebrations in their infancy.

His idea of celebrating Halloween is recounting the traditions surrounding it. And getting really creepy and ancient with it. I'm talking Samhain kind of thing.

He does not give out candy. If his s/o is into that, he'll kind of participate and not really Get It. Don't expect dressing up, either.

Lots of Edgar Allen Poe readings.

Bane

Didn't celebrate Halloween as a child and constantly forgets about it as an adult. Waylon reminds him to have a bowl of candy the week before because otherwise, Bane won't have anything. This has resulted in him opening the door to some very irate children wondering why he's a weirdo with no candy. Children are harsh, they'll tell you!

If he's out and about for Halloween doing villain stuff, people compliment his Luchador costume and he dies a little inside. While it sucks for him, it is one of the funniest things to see in person. No one is scared of the luchador in Gotham. The children are downright delighted. They want photos with him. There's multiple kids that run up to him speaking the most rapid-fire spanish you've ever heard in your life. There's several in their own luchador costumes that are losing their tiny minds at him. Changes his mood immensely for the better.

He absolutely gives extra candy for cute costumes and little kids, the sucker. He sees a toddler dressed as a pig and he's just cooing "pobrecito cerdo...."

Might go to Harleys party once the kids stop coming. Just to say hi and grab a beer. Feels pretty happy with himself.

#SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM #foxwriting #batman rogues #riddler #penguin dc #dc scarecrow #dc mad hatter #poison ivy #Harley Quinn #music meister #killer croc #Bane #victor zsasz #black mask #mr. freeze #ra's al ghul #two-face #Halloween 2023

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