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piratefishmama · 9 months

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So i know the poll isnt over but i'm going to assume yes, to the background information on Finders Givers lmao.

So this is basically notes, they're notes I have on these characters, things that might not explicitly make it into the fic, and some things that might be included or referenced, but they're just... things i have noted down as character motivations or bits of information for specific characters that i wanna keep note of.

so keep some of these things in mind when characters are introduced! it'll explain a lot in terms of characterizations or vague references.

Please be advised there are CW's in here! CW: Mentions of ED CW: Mentions of human trafficking CW: mentions of illegal behaviour CW: mentions of past parental abuse CW: mentions of police bullshittery

The Harrington Family

Adults

Head of the family - Steve Harrington - 28 - Bisexual

Steve runs several underground businesses around the city, including drugs, fire arms, smuggling, and he owns a few clubs that deal in… illicit behaviours (strip clubs, gambling, etc.)

Steve also deals in legitimate business practices to cover up his naughty ones. He has military contracts for legal firearm development and distribution. He also owns a few local restaurants and a bakery that he bought to give Jane something soothing to do when her nerves are fried.

Steve was under his parents guidance until he was 18 years of age, they passed away in a car wreck leaving him with the 'family business' which he has since expanded and grown into a pretty sizable empire.

He lives in a high rise apartment in the city, the floor to cieling windows are bullet and blast proof and his security system is state of the art developed by his own company, he also has a security team and weapons hidden in several places around his apartment just in case anyone managed to get through the gauntlet of shit he's got lined up for them should anyone tresspass.

He owns the building, Robin lives in it, and so does Nancy and Jonathan although they're planning on getting a house somewhere just outside the city.

Steve wants the Hideout for drug and weapon smuggling purposes as one of the tunnels under it connects to a sewer line that runs to the city docks, getting the Hideout would mean he'd have access to pretty much the entire city from that one spot, as it's an access point to the tunnels not on any official city map.

Robin Buckley - 27 - Lesbian

Met Steve at a restaurant owned by his parents when they were both teenagers, Steve was still under his parents wing at that stage of his life and was held up by a rival family who caught him having dinner with friends, Robin, while working as a server, took a bullet for him, and wound up tied to a chair back to back with him in a warehouse while the bad guys tried to ransom them, took them both together thinking they knew each other because Robin took that bullet. They've been inseparable ever since.

She's the most important person in his life, he'd give up everything for her in a heartbeat. Wouldnt even think about it, he owes her his life.

Robin comes from a middle-class family and worked most of her teenage years in retail and customer service jobs, until she was taken hostage with Steve. She knows multiple languages, can play a few instruments. she's a little clumsy but she has spirit. she and Steve play basketball every now and then with the kids to unwind. She likes baking with Jane.

Nancy Wheeler - 27 - Bisexual

Steve brought her in when she was fired from her first reporter gig for some bogus political bullshit that wound up with her name being blacklisted in the industry when she went after the wrong person without any back up.

He paid for her student loans and brought her and her family into his family, she now works closely with Robin to make sure Steve doesnt do anything stupid, and if he does something stupid without telling them, she aids in damage control.

She's also a solid researcher, can find that needle in a haystack without needing a magnet. And she's really good with a gun.

Jonathan Byers - 27 - Heterosexual

Came with Nancy, is now her fiance. He's good at publicity shots, manages the galleries on the company's website. He takes most of Steve's public appearance photos. Doesn't really have the stomach for crime but he's pretty good at staying quiet.

Argyle - 27 - Pansexual

Came with Jonathan, a pretty spectacular get away driver, a good cook, and solid weed dealer, doesnt deal in anything stronger, has a quality hook up back in California that Steve was happy to connect with. He also ferries the kids around whenever they wanna do something stupid. Sometimes he appears with pizza, nobody knows where he gets the pizza, (he makes it himself).

He's currently staying with the Wheelers as there's no room for him elsewhere. He eventually moves into the block.

Billy Hargrove - 28 - one foot out of the closet Gay (still defensive about it)

Originally forced to work under Henry Creel, the head of a rival gang as an enforcer after his father racked up gambling debts with him. Billy is volatile, violent, and very defensive. He will snap to violence if he's backed into a corner.

Billy has a hair trigger temper similar to Jane, however his trauma is more related to his abusive father and being forced to work for Creel as a hitman/enforcer. He was the muscle, the guy who'd turn up to break things or kill someone. He's not a nice person by any means, he still acts a bit like a shark that's sensed blood in the water, but he's trying to be better now he's free of Creel.

He was raised by a racist, so his views on things are backwards and a lot twisted, but he's getting better. He's no longer antagonistic towards Lucas, he was for the first few months, but Max stepped in and shut that down.

He's doing a lot better now he's in a healthier environment, no longer fearing for his and Max's life, and no longer under Neil's abusive thumb, but he has unhealthy coping mechanisms for his stress and anger.

Joyce Byers - 46

Came with Jonathan. She doesnt really have a role besides keeping Hopper from arresting everyone. Everyone loves her though, she's like a mother to them all. Very protective of them. She'll do odd jobs here and there.

Jim Hopper - 46

Chief of Police in the city, Steve's parents basically blackmailed him years ago and Steve still has the material if Hopper ever stepped out of line.

Hopper has since reunited with, and fallen for Joyce, they went to school together, small world! So he can't do shit without Joyce being mad at him.

Begrudgingly he does actually like Steve though, the kid doesnt cause half as much shit as he could do given how much power he has.

The other parents

Play little to no roles. Not mentioned other than in passing.

Claudia mans the main secretaries desk at the main office which acts as a front for Steve's other shit. Steve hired her after he overheard Dustin talking to the other kids about how his mother had been made redundant at her previous job.

The Kids.

Jane Ives/Harrington - 16

Steve's most dangerous enforcer.

He recovered her from a human trafficking ring, the other victims found their way back to their homes but while they could find her mother, Terry was mentally gone after a blow to the head which happened when Jane was originally kidnapped.

Steve took her in, she uses Harrington as her last name in school. Their relationship is closer to brother/sister rather than parent/child.

Nobody expects Jane to be dangerous, and that's one of the reasons why she's the most dangerous. She's small, she's a wisp of a thing, but she will snap.

People do not take her seriously and then they die.

Jane has PTSD and intermittant explosive disorder (IED). She has trauma triggers that include claustrophobia and a fear of dark places, she doesnt trust easily and her speech is stilted from growing up in harsh conditions with no schooling or socialization.

Befriended Max at school when Steve insisted that she go to school with kids her own age to learn how to socialise (she was chaperoned and the school was well aware of her difficulties). There have been hiccups due to every school having bullies, but Steve has always paid any medical bills caused by those hiccups.

She killed Henry Creel to free both Max and her brother from his clutches using Steve's old nail bat, after convincing Max to bring her to Henry under the guise of her joining his "family".

It took a few weeks to gain his trust, but she killed him in his home by finding out his home security codes, sneaking in at night and taking him by surprise. Nail bat to the face.

Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will - 15-16 & Erica - 13

They're the kids, they met Jane in school. They do random odd jobs here and there, mainly they act as spies around the city, they usually communicate through walkies, changing the channel once a week to avoid being listened to.

If there's anything happening around the city that's worth knowing, one of the kids will know it.

Will and Mike already knew Steve through their relatives, which made it easier for the other kids to trust him.

Steve will not allow them to do anything other than act as weird little spies but thats fine, they think it's really cool.

Max - 16

She's a solid get away driver and Billy's stepsister, will absolutely take a baseball bat to someone if necessary, she and Jane are best friends.

She acted as a drug runner for Henry for a year before Jane intervened.

She has a huge crush on Lucas, it's mutual, it's very cute.

The Block

The block is 4 storeys high, there are sixteen apartments in the block in a range of 1 to 2 bedroom. Odd numbers on the left side of the building, even numbered apartments on the right side of the building. Four apartments to a floor. Rent is usually $595pm not including any utility bills.

Eddie Munson - 29 - Gay

Lead vocalist and guitarist of Corroded Coffin which plays at the Hideout, the bar Steve is buying, every Tuesday evening.

Jobless as of start of fic due to a 'disagreement' with his line manager which ended with the manager unconscious and bleeding.

Eddie struggles to find work as he has an assault felony on his record that had him spending two years inside. He used to deal drugs back in highschool but doesnt any more. He still partakes from time to time when he can afford to buy from the shitty dealers in the block. He knows the weed is trash and not at all worth the money they're asking for, but they're easy to get to and it provides a decent enough high to pass the time, he doesnt let Chrissy partake until she's healthy again.

Argyle quickly becomes one of his friends when he moves into the block.

The assault felony was against a local police officer who attempted to coerce him into sexual acts in favour of letting him off with a warning for being caught dealing drugs, hinting that he should be grateful to get any at all given Eddie's sexuality in such a small town.

Eddie punched him and managed to launch the drugs he had into a field lost to the darkness while the officer was disorientated.

The only charge they could pull him on was assault.

When he got out, he was more a freak than ever before, now known as the local queer after the officer he'd 'assaulted' had rushed to claim Eddie came onto him to get out of a harsher charge then panicked when the officer didnt reciprocate when asked to explain Eddie lashing out, as he'd never shown any agression towards officers before and the sherrif couldn't understand why he'd start now, the Sherrif still didn't understand how that could make sense as the story was so hastily told by the officer, so Eddie got out early after a quiet internal investigation led to him being revealed as a victim.

Unfortunately as he did assault an officer, the charge was never wiped from his record.

Eddie spent a year in Hawkins with his uncle after getting out of jail, before jumping ship. Not before making friends with Chrissy Cunningham, who he'd caught at the quarry one night a little too close to the edge of the cliff.

He talked her down, made her laugh, and gave her half his sandwich which she picked at quietly.

He found out about her ED from Jason her childhood friend and 'boyfriend' (performative, acted as a shield against her mother when he could), who at first couldn't believe that Eddie was getting her to eat things, he was defensive at first, angry that she'd go to the local felon instead of him, but… eventually he conceeded that maybe she would be happier, maybe she could survive life if she stayed with Eddie.

Jason sought to convince Eddie to get her to move away from Hawkins with him when Eddie decided to jump ship. He didn't have to try hard. Eddie was planning on whisking her away anyway.

They moved to the city together and have been inseparable ever since as he strives to help her recover.

Lives in Apartment 8 on the second floor with Chrissy.

Chrissy Cunningham - 27 - Bisexual

Lived with abusive parents until she was 16 and then managed to split her living situation between staying with her childhood friend (Jason) under the guise of him being her boyfriend, and hiding out with friends.

Chrissy has suffered with an eating disorder since she was very young mostly due to her mother's insistent comments about her weight and pointed shaming remarks regarding her clothes needing to be let out when they didn't.

She now lives with Eddie in the city, healthier and happier than she's been in years.

Keeps in touch with Jason by semi-weekly calls, he visits every now and then to check in on her.

She's estranged from her parents and little brother, although she wishes she could see her little brother and protect him from her parents. Her parents cut all contact when Chrissy ran away with the town 'freak/felon'. Claiming they didn't want her to negatively influence their son.

Jason was absolutely in love with her, nobody doubts that, but he was aware that she wasnt there, wasnt in that headspace, and probably never would be while in Hawkins, so while he did love her, while he did 'date her' publicly, and while he was happy to pour that love onto her, it was never with any intention to have her do anything with him. It never came with pressures or expectations. He just kept her safe whenever he could.

It's been a month since she last forced herself to throw up and she's put on a small amount of weight that she's happy with. She's on the mend.

Lives in Apartment 8 on the second floor with Eddie.

Dottie and Mick - 19/21 - lesbians.

Dottie and Mick live across the hall from Eddie and Chrissy, they're a couple of runaways estranged from their families who found each other and stuck together, they're not a couple although sometimes they act like it.

They argue sometimes due to Dottie's dependance on drugs and Mick's overprotective tendencies and they're kinda punky, little grungy, but they're nice neighbours usually, and mostly keep to themselves.

Lives in apartment 7 on the second floor

Mrs Luiza Jablonski - 71 - widowed.

She's polish, jewish, and old. She lives alone and usually stays inside.

She loves her neighbours and they love her. She's everyone's grandma.

She crocheted Chrissy a sweater when she and Eddie first moved in, it's Chrissy's favourite thing to wear as it's made of thick cream coloured wool and so cosy, the arms are too long but Chrissy likes how they cover her fingers, makes her feel safe.

She also crocheted Eddie a little plush bat after she saw his tattoo. He loves it.

She has two cats, Mika and Pusia. She owns and can play a grand piano. She occasionally makes enough food to feed the whole floor with leftovers.

She's a little deaf so she doesnt mind Eddie practicing his guitar in his room, which shares the wall with her apartment. Sometimes she will play the piano along with him if she has her hearing aids in, they have little duets sometimes.

Lives in apartment 6 on the second floor.

#Pirate's fic lore #other ficlets have lore like this in a fun little document #but this one has the most lore written up i think #Finders Givers Lore

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script-a-world · 4 months

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Submitted via Google Form:

I would love to ask about the logistics, legal and financial options for a world with worldwide secret organisations that are not the government because they deal with things unknown by the government. I'm not sure how to deal with this other than completely ignoring all that and say it's just the way it is or if they ever do get on the government radar, the government is just given the complete runaround with no consequences.

Addy: So first off, you're going to need to think about the dynamics of how this all is going to actually work.

- where do they get their money

- what sort of regulatory body controls them/do they have relations with (as in who protects them/organizes things as they go abroad, how do they deal with political fallout if an agent gets caught, how do they bargain for access into closed countries, who do they have in their corner)

- how do they hire people

When you get any kind of organization with power, governments want to have some kind of relation for their own security. If some random person gets caught in a high-security area, the government officials in charge aren't going to go "oh, they refuse to answer our questions, I guess we'll give up"

You're going to get invaded. You're going to get a highly organized military force breaking down your doors, taking your family hostage, and tying you up and prying your jaws open so you can't crack open a suicide tooth. If you refuse to answer questions or play along, and they know nothing about you, they are going to assume that you are a threat that has infiltrated the area to an unknown extent, and they are going to excise that influence in their country.

That happened to a mafia family once when some of their guys ended up in the secure areas of a naval base that did work on nuclear subs. Their houses got broken into in the middle of the night with strange figures holding automatic weapons, and the whole family got strung up, strip-searched, and had their teeth checked.

When the Navy found out that it was just a small gambling ring, they let 'em all go, because they didn't really care about that.

They cared about people trying to get access to highly sensitive files in a sensitive location in a controlled & classified environment.

You can do something like the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders, where it's an international service organization, but with a sort of dedicated task force for supernatural threats or diseases, but... governments don't like threats to their security

You could also have something like the Plumbers, which was an illegal group run by Nixon. They're the people who did Watergate.

But also like... if you are *ever* part of an intelligence organization (like if you worked at the FBI food court or something), you cannot work in the Peace Corps. They will not accept you, because they do not want their reputation tarnished by aspersions of spies or whatever

.... I think the closest equivalents I can think of are

- human trafficking organizations

- drug cartels (which are known *about,* to an extent, though the details are unknown)

- Epstein's island (money from an external source used to fund interior operations and stuff)

But seriously, how do you hire people? Who runs your food courts, how do you find interns? Who does your plumbing? What if they switch jobs (say they had a kid and want a different life), and they need to explain what they did on their resume? What about the daily commute?

Thought about it a bit more, have some extra thoughts:

I think it's really easy to look at something and go "oh, they'll just refuse to answer" without thinking about what that looks like for the people asking the questions. If I have someone in custody who I think may be part of some kind of terrorist cell (planting weird devices, asking strange questions, found in a place they were not supposed to have access to), I'm going to think that we have a security leak. Leaks are not be left to fester - leaks are arrested, charged with espionage, and imprisoned to use later as a political bargaining chip.

Everyday social interactions, if someone refuses to answer your question, you back off and let them be. That isn't how a government works, not with threats.

For the suspected terrorist/spy… Warrants, warrants everywhere. Your house, your family, your friends, your workplace, your digital information, everything - all of that is going to be pulled and examined because you are a threat and you are not talking.

If you want to give the government (any of them, really), you need to think about what that looks like and who your organization has in their corner to back them up. What's their leverage?

… can you tell I like spy dramas?

Licorice: the main obstacle to your scenario is this: “they deal with things unknown by the government.” There are no things on the scale you’re thinking of - worldwide secret organisations - that are unknown to all governments. The security agencies of powerful governments know far, far more than they ever make known to the public. Worldwide secret organisations normally have a base of operations in at least one friendly country where the government is sympathetic to their objectives. If those objectives are nefarious, then their activities are usually directly at some specific country, group of countries, or ethnic group. If, on the other hand, they are working for the good of humanity, then there usually isn’t much reason for them to be secret unless they’re handling something so scary (like aliens from outer space) that it’s deemed better the general public never know about it.

One of the main purposes of government security agencies is to identify, monitor, and if necessary infiltrate, take over or destroy secret organisations. They’ve been doing this for a long time and are extremely good at it - much better than would-be secret organisations are at hiding themselves. No one gives government security agencies the runaround. Individual hostile agents may occasionally, through sheer luck or by identifying a rare blind spot, fly under the radar or slip through the net, but a whole big global organisation, for decades on end? That isn’t possible, not in this world.

#google submitted #organisations #organizations

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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Congrats on your celebration. I loved LOVED Don't forget to smile so could you do some headcanons for modern Tommy and please write a part two! Thanks boo

modern!Tommy Shelby ~ General Headcanons

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Warning: Mention of violence, drug use

I don't see Tommy going to war., at least not with the army. There was no need to conscript soldiers, and he is not the type of person to choose the army for a career path. I'd see Arthur and maybe even John doing that, but I'm not sure about them either.

However, I see them getting their 'warfare' experience from UK gang wars

Even so, they aren't as traumatised as they are in the show, even if they are still struggling because of the life they live and so Tommy would have retained some of his pre!war persona and we would see more of his cheeky side.

Modern!Tommy still loves horses and would have wanted to work with them and maybe become a professional equestrian but he sees the mistreatment of horses and becomes an activist in his youth (not necessarily animal rights in general, but horses rights)

And by activist, I mean slashing tyres, spraying graffiti, causing mayhem at the races as a teenager. That's how he met Greta and where he learns a lot of oganizing and sabotating skills

I still think the family would start with illegal gambling but on football games and not horse races

Tommy's expansion would be to start fixing boxing matches and MMA fights to make money while getting legal licences. They also take over strip clubs (and absolutely weed out human trafficking thanks to Polly's and Lizzie's input)

Within years he makes them the UKs gambling monopoly but also runs all those online casinos, betting apps etc (you know- the ones with the annoying ads) which takes them global

I still see him involved with trade and shipping and maybe manufacturing too but more in regards to technology and development. And of course, they are in the drugs business

They are UFC shareholders as well as all other MMA and boxing governing bodies and absolutely keep fixing fights. They also fix football matches and sponsor an F1 team (I want to say RedBull based on the Seb era but who knows?)

He is also hugely involved in real estate and housing

This Tommy would not get involved in active politics, even if he loses his mind over current, especially UK politics (when Brexit hits, he can't fathom the stupidity, the damages to his business and economy, and the general government incompetence)

Instead, he focuses on activism, like funding school lunches for poor children through their foundation

The 21st century is still classit but not as much as in the 20s, so he has more movement there. There would be far more discrimination in regards to his Irish Traveller background

The expansion to the US is far earlier.

Modern!Tommy is just as overworked as canon!Tommy if not more so due to the constant availability of our time so he still smokes, takes drugs and a lot of sleeping pills.

He does not have any social media and lives completely off the grid, not even a newspaper interview, which makes him a phenomenon, a ghost and an icon for the crypto bros.

He has a vintage car and motorcycle collection but his biggest treasure is a large horse ranch in the middle of nowhere where he keeps close to a hundred horses, either older horses or former race horses, which he keeps buying up. It's a gigantic facility and is absolutely not profitable (apart for a bit of money laundering) but giving the horses a calm place where they are well taken care of (kind of like a retirement home for horses) is his passion project.

Modern!Tommy has tattoo sleeves, definitely, but he would rather walk on broken glass before he puts on a SmartWatch or drinks a green smoothie

His lockscreen is either a childhood picture of him and Ada on a horse or just a black screen

Bonus fact:

On at least one occasion he has definitely shot his Tablet during a stressful day because the "Sorry- I didn't quite catch that" came at the wrong moment.

Thank you so much for participating in my celebration - I hope you like what I've written for you! I'll have to see about that Part 2. I know a lot of people like that story but I have a lot of other WIPs in the works, but it won't be forgotten

If you want to join in, click here to find out everything you need to know!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @alex-in-the-wilderness @butterfly-skinnylegend

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist

@lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

#valentines1k #valentinesheadcanons #join me for a drink #modern!Tommy #modern!Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby imagine #modern!Tommy Shelby imagine #modern Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders

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arshipweek · 1 year

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AR Ship Week 2023 Round Up

AR Ship Week 2023 is finished and what a fantastic offering of fics we have! Thank you everyone for participating and I hope you all had fun!

The AO3 collection will remain open if anyone is inspired to add a late entry.

Enjoy the fanworks!

💂 BODYGUARD AU 💂

lights, camera, behind the action by starvalisedham Tom is a famous film director whose latest film unknowingly gets caught up in trafficking illegal weapons, so Alex gets assigned as an undercover bodyguard. Through morning coffees and shared proximity, Tom finds that this new ‘Friend’ of his might just have the potential to be something more. Tom/Alex

🧛 VAMPIRE AU 🧛

Blood Lines by Suzie_Shooter Sequel to There Will Be Blood, in which John Rider is not as dead as he should be and Yassen is the opposite. And quite cross about it. Yassen/Alex

⛓️ HANDCUFFS ⛓️

they’re just like bracelets, right? by starvalisedham Tom asks Alex to teach him how to break free from various restraints – duct tape, zip ties, rope, you name it. It’s all very straightforward until Alex starts playing with the handcuffs. Tom/Alex

🏠 “I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE ELSE TO GO.” 🏠

Hard-Knock Life by polarnacht Every time a mission leaves Alex battered and bruised, he goes to Yassen, seeking relief in rough sex - until an incident forces Alex to think about what he really wants. Yassen/Alex

🛏️ “PROMISE ME YOU’LL STILL BE HERE WHEN I WAKE UP.” 🛏️

Echoes of the future past by kelkblr They saved the world in the future but now, stranded in the past, Alex and Yassen have to build a new future for themselves. But since when were their lives ever simple? Yassen/Alex

💢 FORCED TO WORK TOGETHER 💢

Tailwind by Polarnacht After Alex betrayed Yassen to MI6, they are forced to work together on another mission. It goes as well as expected. Yassen/Alex

We must stop meeting like this by kelkblr Ian is on a simple information-gathering mission when he finds himself in an unexpected hostile situation. He soon finds out he isn't the only prisoner and now he and Yassen must work together to escape. Yassen/Ian

Greetings & Salutations by galimau & Valaks It took Yassen years to understand what his soulmate mark said, and many more after that before he heard the ill fated words. The simplicity of a bullet would have been far easier than years with his mentee nee bonded rooting him back to the humanity that SCORPIA had stripped from him. Yassen/Nile

😍 LONGING 😍

One-man Army by RavenJames When Yassen appears again in Alex’s life after “dying” on Air Force One, Alex suddenly finds himself in the middle of a strange game, where he isn’t the one who has to fight, but the one to be fought for. Is Yassen participating in that game or trying to protect Alex? Or is it a bit of both? Yassen/Alex

😵‍💫 OBSESSION 😵‍💫

My Doctors Can’t Explain by countessrivers Yassen Gregorovich.Alex has a name now, for the man from the hallway, the man with the scar.He has a name, one he can’t stop thinking about, and he’s not entirely sure why. --- Between seasons, Alex dreams, grieves, hallucinates, and obsesses. Yassen/Alex

Within a gilded cage by kelkblr Yassen just wants Alex to be safe. This way, no one can take Alex away from him again. Yassen/Alex

Free Until They Cut Me Down by galimau & Valaks Yassen Gregorovich never wanted to be owned again. Yassen/Nile

🙇 DOM/SUB 🙇

Giving In by Polarnacht During a passionate sparring session with Alex, long buried desires surface in a way that makes them impossible for Yassen to ignore. Yassen/Alex

🩹 WOUND TENDING 🩹

Devotion by countessrivers As he rides out the last of the agonising coughing fit, spitting out the mouthful of blood courtesy of his dry and ragged throat, Yassen wonders, for maybe the sixth, or tenth, or dozenth time, what exactly could have gone wrong.

He’ll need to explain it to the board, after all. When he gets out of here.

When. Not if. Yassen/Alex

Seller’s Remorse by Rirren & icebluecyanide In a brief respite between torture sessions, Alex gambles on the nature of Yassen’s affections for him in a desperate ploy to save himself. Yassen/Alex

🕑 A SLEEPLESS NIGHT 🕑

sleepless nights and flavoured crisps by starvalisedham Tom can't sleep so he texts Alex, who sneaks in bearing snacks and drinks and company. He stays the night and Mrs Harris finds them the next day, sleeping on Tom's bed. Tom/Alex

#alex rider #arshipweek #yalex #tomlex #mod posts

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unohanabbygirl · 8 months

Note

FMN SPOILERS!!!!!!!

BE WARNED!!!!!!!

SPOILERS Ch. 31

If this is a possible vendetta against the family but mostly towards Luke, then it’s possible that some of the villains from the past who caused trouble might be back too and it’s probable that they fault Luke in causing the Dance of the Dragons. This is sounding like a cult or conspiracy against poor Lucerys. But who the main players are, are still to be unknown, so far, my theories who would have the most grudge against the family and who have possible connections could be Otto , Larys, Criston Cole, etc… trying to think of other co conspirators but I doubt Daeron since it’s been established that he doesn’t exist in this universe.

By any chance does Owen take after Owen hunt like Grey Anatomy? I’m trying to get an idea of this person.

A vendetta is possible, especially seeing as there’s a chance Luke has interacted with certain figures from the past without even realizing it. Seeing as many people both from the past and in present day do fault him for the dance, taking their chance to enact a cruel form of revenge isn’t a far fetched idea. A two thousand year grudge wouldn’t be surprising in the least.

On top of that, if the antagonists we know of have come back there’s a possibility they’ve also been born into power, therefore have the ability to make certain people’s lives a living hell without ever being caught. It makes you wonder. Though the chances that every villain wasn’t born into the good life are high as well who’s to say some aren’t being manipulated into playing the game once again for the monetary gain if such offers were made?

As for Owen, he’s a man born in horrible circumstances who turned to making such circumstances work in his favor in terms of business. Gambling, drugs, illegal weapons and human trafficking just to name a few. He’s older than Luke by a few decades but younger than most of the adults figures in Luke’s life. Charming yet extremely controlling. I’d even say he has a narcissistic personality type.

When it comes to the activities he forced Luke into I wouldn’t say he enjoyed the sex acts within themselves but instead took joy in the fact that he had such a hold over Luke that he could convince him to participate into very degrading acts just by asking. He took joy in the fact that Luke was very willing to do anything for him and all he had to give in return was praise and the feeling of being cared for.

He often surrounds himself with the vulnerable (young, little to no family, addicts) because they’re the only people who buy the front he tries to push. It’s how he and Luke even met in the first place.

Also, one last thing. If people like Aemond and Aegon can turn a new leaf and become better people, who’s to say others haven’t done the same? Just a lil food for thought.

#asks

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polyhexian · 1 year

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I finally sat down and gave "The Great Automatic Grammatizator" a read, per your recommendation. The parallels with AI are apparent, and I did exit the story with some thoughts about the commodification of creativity, but I'm curious how it affected *your* approach to writing and art in general

It's really relevant to AI stuff, but it means something different for me.

I don't usually talk about youtube here because i don't want youtube people coming here nor do i especially want people from here going to my youtube, but its too relevant to leave out, so i'm gonna put this under a cut.

I read "The Great Automatic Grammatizator" in 2012. I'm gonna have to drop a couple fun facts today for anyone thats new; #1 being unfortunately i am a youtuber and #2 being i got human trafficked in 2012 lol. whoops. Anyway. in 2012 I was living in Beijing and I worked at this school where i had a one hour break in the middle of the day ostensibly for lunch but there really wasnt anywhere to go so, i usually just used it to hide in a closet and nap. since i never got enough sleep. and at one point i found a book that was a collection of roald dahl's adult oriented short stories, and it was the first english book id had access to in ages, and it would be like, awhile before i got a vpn and access to most of the english internet again.

So I read it and this is really the story that stuck with me and persisted. I've always been an artist, ever since I was a child. Everyone around me knew I was inevitably going to be one professionally. And when I got back from the US i worked for an on demand t shirt company as a graphic designer working on digital embroidery stuff. and then, of course, later on i'd become a youtube animator.

The difference between what I do now and what I did when I was younger is that art is my job now. Thats my income. Thats whether I eat or not. Art for money always comes before art for arts sake. I can't count the amount of times I've had something I really wanted to invest my time in- like Bruno is Orange, if you've ever seen it, which took me months- and I just can't justify it. I don't have the time for that kind of thing. If I'm making art, it has to prioritize profit. it just does. and that sucks out everything i like about art and leaves behind a shell where i no longer do. It's not just that I can't make whatever I want, its that I always have to edit what I DO want into something thats more palatable, more widely appealing, more tailored to my audience. I can't risk making something that might alienate them. I joke all the time about how my subscribers are begging me to stop posting transformers but. unironically, i DO lose subscribers every single time i post transformers. every time.

theres a difference between being a successful artist and being a successful artist commercially. you're making a product. you're making content.

what all that leads to is that golden contract. it's money for your morals. its taking the easy way out at the expense of your soul. its selling out for safety and what a relief that is, but you will never sleep at night again.

I've joked before about how I've turned down a RAID sponsorship but- i have. i did actually do that. hellofresh literally sends me a daily email about partnership its getting annoying. but i don't... i don't take sponsorships. its not the idea of sponsors i hate, its that every potential sponsor is a golden contract.

i think RAID should be illegal. I think its gambling and selling gambling to kids should be a crime. I think it needs to be under the same restrictions all gambling is. I think selling gambling addictions to children is evil and I've spoken about this at length before. Could I accept money to tell my audience to download it? You're not just playing an ad, you are putting your face on it, its your endorsement. you are telling people to do it. And youtubers joke about how its basically a meme at this point, its not like anyone actually downloads it, but- yes they do? if they didnt they wouldnt keep sponsoring people. They're making a profit. they're getting new users. Can I knowingly promote with my own words and my own mouth something I think is so heinous because im being paid for it?

that goes for basically all of them. fuck audible and amazon, fuck raycons, fuck honey, fuck dollar shave club and nord vpn and that overpriced cereal and the mattresses and all of it. You can look into all of them but theyre rife with cheap garbage sold at jacked up prices no better than dropshipping or predatory marketing practices or deceptive advertising or just straight up being no better than scams. Do you remember the esteemed titles situation recently? huge youtubers were involved with promoting this massive scam that they could have found out was scam with like twenty minutes of googling, but... no one did.

its the golden contract. take the money and bite your tongue. sell out and feel safe again, at the expense of the world around you. let someone else move your hand and place words in your mouth, be a vessel of capitalism with one hand while denouncing it with the other like the hypocrite you have to be.

i cant do it and sleep at night. i had a rough time in beijing. i learned how to be hungry there, and I learned the hard way that everyone will do things they never believed they could or would when theyre hungry. So when I say it, I know what I mean, I know what starving feels like and I know what its like to wear three jackets to bed during a blizzard and shiver all night without heat or electricity, and I know what its like to hike miles in the snow to work, and I know what its like to work on christmas and to work with a fever and to be afraid of people you work with. i know exactly what im saying when i say i'd rather starve than have a full cabinet at the expense of my integrity. ive fucked up a lot in my life and ive done a lot of things i regret, but not on purpose. i wont walk headlong into something i know is wrong on purpose. and i know that im not the only one that suffers. i have friends now. no one is going to let me go hungry this time. no one is going to let me be homeless or starve to death. which means when i cant take care of myself, someone else has to help me. im putting that on everyone around me and im not proud of it.

turning down that golden contract doesnt just impact you. it impacts everyone around you. i could make more money making outrage content on the internet but i won't. its that last line. "Give us strength, oh lord, to let our children starve" that always comes back to me. take the contract, feed your family. go to hell. turn it down and inflict suffering on yourself and those around you but refuse to make the world a worse place to live in. its the "press the button to get a million dollars, but someone somewhere dies" dilemma but on a small scale, death by a thousand cuts.

so thats what its about. thats what it means.

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rmlarson · 2 years

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The son of a lesser known Mexican drug lord. Growing up around mass bloodshed and debauchery, he was unaffected by his father’s sudden disappearance and violent death, taking his place at the top. He veered away from the illegal drug and weapons trade and focused on trafficking vacationers that visited Mexico instead. Miguel fell in love with an abductee and did his best to shelter her away from his violent lifestyle. She was later abducted by a rival cartel and mutilated until she passed away, sending him into a blind rage which led to a bloody shootout. He was arrested and imprisoned for years before being bailed out by Jerry Robert Willis and enlisted to be part of his crew. Despite being very homophobic, he cherishes Anton’s friendship and tries his best to not let his flirting bother him.

—

Name: Miguel Chiodo

Gender/Sex: Male

Species: Human

Age: 31 years old

Height: 5′7″

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Color: Black

Skin Color: Bronze Hispanic

Occupation: Former cartel drug lord; Cult member; Hayesville Willy’s Wonderland host

Designated Animatronic: Tito Turtle

Spiritual Beliefs: Satanism; Black magic

Alignment: Evil

Crimes: Kidnapping, human trafficking of women, robbery, stealing, drug trafficking/smuggling, non-negligent manslaughter, aggravated assault/battery, sex trafficking, sexual assault/battery, illegal weapons trading

Abilities: Spell casting, manipulation, unnatural stealth and agility

Likes: Mackenzie Stone, Anton Lombardo, gauging a woman’s worth based on her appearance, torturing people, gambling, teasing Deborah about her crush on Willy, smothering and ambushing guests inside the foam block pit, getting Jerry riled up

Dislikes: Anton’s flirting, gay men, Tito Turtle, unruly customers, blatant racists, supervising the children that visit Tito’s Play Place, every other Mexican cartel, the men who killed his father and love

Whereabouts: Hayesville, Nevada

Status: Dead by self-sacrificial cyanide poisoning

#willy's wonderland #willys wonderland #willy's wonderland backgrounds #miguel chiodo #killer klowns au

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thisuserdead · 8 months

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The Moriyamas - PJO AU

This is part of a PJO AU - To the masterpost!

-----

In this universe the Moriyamas are a powerful family in New Rome. They are the Hatfords’ main rivals when it comes to power. However, they are rooted much deeper and have a longer history and legacy than the Hatfords. For this reason they managed to not be eradicated when the corruption in New Rome got upturned.

Officially, the Moriyama family is just like any other powerful family in New Rome. It started as a legacy of a powerful God, Jupiter in their case, and mixed blood with countless others along the way. They run multiple successful businesses and have a long history of participating in administrative affairs both in the city and in the legion.

Unlike a lot of other families, they put a heavy emphasis on their firstborns, often relegating younger siblings to minor roles.

Off the book, the family dabbles in various illegal dealings. One of these is underground fighting, both in New Rome and in the mortal world (although the organisation doesn’t have as much reach as they have in the books).

Tetsuji Moriyama specialises in training a restricted group of demigods to (officially) fight in the camp’s Coliseum (where they hold fights against monsters and occasionally non-fatal duels).The “Ravens”, as they’re called, bring in a lot of money from betting.

Some of these, the ones in the inner circle (a.k.a. the best ones who are most determined and least likely to speak out or just the ones that the family “owns”) train to become “Champions” in the illegal fights. Riko, Kevin and Jean are champions (Only Riko wants to be there). Neil was supposed to become one in exchange for help from the Moriyamas so that the Hatfords wouldn’t be banished. Instead Mary ran away with Neil and the whole fallout happened.

He’s not as high of a priority for them in this BUT they think he would’ve probably brought them a lot of money due to their belief of children of Orcus’ talent for fighting. Either way, the Moriyamas don’t have an ownership over Neil as they do in the books since there is no debt to repay. (Having to fight your godly father is enough I think).

The illegal fights in the mortal world are both human vs human and animal fights. Other than fights they dabble in gambling, drug trafficking and all that usual stuff. That’s where the main branch of the family comes in.

#aftg #neil josten #tfc #aftg neil #all for the game #the foxhole court #the king's men #aftg fanfic #aftg au #aftg trilogy #aftg fandom #kevin day #riko moriyama #jean moreau

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madmanipulation · 2 years

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Consequences

[ I won’t sugarcoat it. This is dark. It explores the most deplorable part of Jamie’s history, his involvement in human trafficking/slave trading and a consequence of it for him as I headcanon.

Warnings: adult themes, human trafficking, slave trading, grape, sexual assault, dubious consent, drug use, mentions of gambling, murder, torture, trauma to children, racist themes ]

The air was dry enough to suck the moisture out of the back of his throat when he exited the Jeep, but Jamie held back a cough, even as thick cigar smoke filled his lungs. It was necessary. The heavy scent of cigar smoke covered up the smells that lingered around small villages. The cattle, the lack of plumbing...“Ugh. Smells like shit,” he groaned. At least the smoke would be more prominent on his suit than the smell of third world poverty.

The sounds of war rang out in the village in the form of screams and gunfire. “No blokes! Market’s slow for them, and we have enough already!” Jamie barked out to his men, a team of South African rebels turned mercenaries for human traffickers with too much money. The more masculine of the screams and pleas were silenced with a rain of bullets. Automatic weapons seemed like overkill, but what did Jamie know? He hadn’t selected their weapons, just funded them. Besides, they worked.

Human trafficking was more lucrative than his more prominent career of racing cars. It allowed Jamie to bet more money on the races, increasing his winnings sometimes tenfold. He was a self-aware financial genius, so the Braddock funds were well-protected from his addiction, especially after the first major loss. That meant he had to keep his illegal gains coming in, though, to fuel his habit. That meant he needed more bodies, and Africa was a prime location to obtain them.

“What do we do with the whites?” the leader of his team, a heavily scarred man with a thick South African accent, asked. Jamie wondered what the Hell he had meant by “watts”, before he saw them. Before him were three men and a woman, all white. Judging by their attire, they were from the US. The wolf graphic t-shirt was a dead giveaway.

It wasn’t unusual to come across missionaries or Red Cross or other aid workers out among the more isolated tribes, but it complicated the whole mission. Jamie was visibly annoyed. At least there was one broad. “You. Yeah, the bird, take off your clothes.” When she looked around in panicked confusion, he snapped, impatient, “Off with the shirt and shorts! Strip!” A nudge on the back of her head with the butt of a rifle snapped her out of her shock and she managed to fumble out of her clothing and down to her underwear by the time Jamie made his way over to her. He stopped her by grabbing her by the jaw, then examined what she had revealed, a full B-cup, nearly a C, and minimal stretch marks, but she was carrying a bit of chub. “A bit homely, but we could work her into the right shape. Line her up,” he ordered.

Curiously, he plucked up her shorts as she was dragged towards a line of other women and searched through her pockets. She hadn’t been carrying much, just a pamphlet for her church and the beginnings of a beaded accessory. It looked like she had been learning the craft of a tribeswoman. Disinterested, he tossed her belongings at one of the men left kneeling.

“Get rid of them.” The woman’s scream at the order barely registered. It certainly didn’t elicit any reaction from Jamie.

He turned away from the three executions to his potential products, frightened girls and women ranging from their mid-teens to late twenties. They screamed and cried at the death surrounding them, begged in their own form of the Ndebele language to be spared, but Jamie didn’t care. He had reduced them to objects in his mind. Never had he thought much of women, so it was easy to detach completely from those he sold. He just paced down the line, tearing open their clothing and crassly assessing their bodies. “Couldn’t even starve this one into shape by the next auction...Nice tits on this one. Load her up...Too young. What did I say? No bloody mites in my stock!...Hah! What, did you have twins? Tragic...Fat one, ain’t she? She’s got that nanny appeal, though. Load her up.”

On and on, he went, until he came to the last in line, the white woman. In his career, he’d sold only two others. They had both gone through more than one auction to sell because no one wanted to risk buying a white woman. They were more likely to be recognised. Families in the US, Canada, and the UK tended to have their loved ones’ photos posted all over the media while searching for them. The appeal of the tribal African woman was no one would be looking for her. Still, the missionary had an appealing face that Jamie thought he could sell. “Load her up. Don’t let her sit. She’s jiggling like a bloody pudding,” he laughed.

Finally done with his part, he stepped back into the Jeep and waited for the women to be loaded into the largest vehicle in the fleet. The commotion that followed was straight out of a nightmare. When he was done with his selection, the men were free to do with the rest as they pleased, as long as there was no evidence left and no witnesses.

“There’s too much noise.” Grumbling, Jamie turned on the radio and put it on full volume.

His driver made no move to save his eardrums, just kept his eyes on the steering wheel, detached. Everyone had their own way of coping with the monstrosities outside.

In the back of the Jeep, a woman squealed, startled awake. “Jamie!”

Jamie was startled himself. “Is that you, Emerald?” the eldest Braddock laughed. He’d forgotten about her completely after she passed out in the backseat on the ride to the village.

The woman, a shapely brunette with eyes to match her given name, groaned miserably and pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead to relieve some pressure. She was coming off of her last dose of heroin, but Jamie was unsympathetic to her withdrawals. Somehow, she’d managed to sleep through the commotion outside, but the high-pitched squeal of an electric guitar was too much apparently. “Turn that down!” she screeched.

“Oh, fuck off!” Jamie responded with a dismissive wave. She was no fun without drugs in her veins.

“Jamiiieee!” came another whine. When she clearly wasn’t going to get her way, she opted to earn a bit of consideration in the future, climbing into the front seat.

The driver flinched when she accidentally kneed him in the shoulder, but reacted with practised indifference when she laid her legs across his lap.

Jamie, an easy man when he needed a distraction, was sucked into her affections, leaning into her fingers combing through his hair, her dark green nails gently scraping his scalp. They’d met on a boat tour off the southern tip of the continent, and Jamie had been drawn to her callous comments about local divers and the great whites. She was soulless, and an addict. He could relate. He could also use her for relief when his own blackened heart threatened to find a pulse.

“Jamiiie,” she whined again, but, this time, it was cute with an audible pout. She wanted permission into his trousers, the minx, which he granted with fingers finding their way up her dress.

That was how Jamie ignored the senseless cruelty around him, by getting his dick sucked and fingering a sexy heiress to Thunderstruck while children cried out for their mothers and freshly violated women clutched their husbands’ corpses to their breasts as they waited for mercy in the form of a well-aimed bullet.

___

“Spitting on you?” It wasn’t shocking news at all really. There was always one that spat in the group. Jamie just had a hard time understanding the man half the time. When he received a very heavily accented confirmation, he laughed. “There are blokes who would pay for that, you know.”

Simon, as he preferred to be called, though it was doubtful it was his real name, was not amused. Despite working for Jamie, he showed him about as much respect as he was shown, which wasn’t a lot. “It’s the disrespect,” he told him flatly.

With a roll of his eyes, Jamie pushed past the leader of his makeshift band of cold-blooded killers and walked over to his chattel, which were all huddled together in a corner of the warehouse. “Which one is it?”

“Young one. Got a pretty face.”

Helpful, he thought sarcastically as he looked over his lovely little bunch. Jamie didn’t select ugly women. Eventually, he gave up and just started gesturing to the younger individuals until Simon gave him confirmation. He wasn’t wrong, she was pretty. Her rich dark skin was unblemished and her face was still soft with baby fat. “Have you tried giving her a smack?” he asked as he looked over his shoulder.

Simon’s chapped lips twisted in annoyance. “We know how to do our job.”

While he knew that, the opposite was proving to be true. “Do you? You’re supposed to break them. Broken birds don’t spit.” Reaching out, he grabbed the woman by her upper arm and pulled her away from the others. Her will was strong, but Jamie was stronger. It took some effort and one hard yank, but, eventually, he managed to jerk her out of her smelly little safety pile.

She righted herself after a bit of a stumble, but, once she was steady on her own two feet, she looked Jamie Braddock in the eyes, gathered up what she could from deep in her throat, and spat in his face.

There was an audible gasp from their female audience and at least one snort from the men, cheeky bugger, but Jamie was silent, dangerously so. Calmly, he tugged the handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped away what he could from his cheek. That dirty feeling wasn’t going to go away until he washed his face, though. With a use of force his victims had not witnessed from him before, he threw the offender to the hard concrete floor. Then, he reached into his jacket.

The woman checked the elbow she had landed on before she looked back to the monster. When she saw what he had retrieved from his jacket, her eyes rounded in horror and she held an arm up to shield herself, but it didn’t stop a bullet from embedding itself in her brain. Screams rang out and echoed on the warehouse walls as she collapsed limply onto the floor.

Revolver still in hand, Jamie turned to what was left of his goods, which were clinging to each other for protection. “No bloody SPITTING!” he yelled, gesturing at them with the weapon.

Most of them tried to restrain their screams in fear of attracting his attention, but one woman began to wail. “God, save us! Please, God!” It was no surprise to see it was the white woman. Not only was she the only believer of God in the bunch, but she clearly didn’t know how to act in the situation she was in.

Jamie found it hilarious. Cruelly, he laughed at her, cackled at her fear and desperation. “The only god here is Jamie Braddock!”

___

The goods had been spread and checked, divided into ‘virgin’ or ‘used’, and shaped to Jamie’s standards. They were all freshly cleaned and covered in sheer fabrics that left little to the imagination, but that little was enough to entice the bidders.

Jamie was already over a million in profit when the white woman was paraded around the stage. Hesitant bids were thrown out, but nothing to the level of an African woman of the same age. No matter how much he’d had her body tightened or her hair bleached and face painted, she was still a risky investment.

When the bids slowed dangerously, he walked out on stage, a move that was unheard of at the auctions, to lift the cloth covering her chest teasingly, only enough to expose the slightest of areola. “Would you look at that?” The crowd applauded, their interest growing, and some bidders threw out offers only because they were caught up in the fun. Putting on a bit of a show, Jamie gave the bottom of one breast a few good taps to make it jiggle. “Got a nice bounce to them, don’t they?” Verbal bids were lost in laughter, but their raised signs were noted.

The woman swallowed thickly to restrain her disgust, not audibly, but it did not evade Jamie’s notice. For it, he brushed the fabric all the way up over her breast in one long self-indulgent stroke, putting the breast on full display. With that action, he got an African woman’s worth out of her.

That wasn’t enough for Jamie, though. He reached down and began to slowly pull the cloth tied around her hips up, doing a little dance behind her as he did. As the crowd’s cheers began to build, he ignored a choked sob from his product. She knew better than to embarrass him. He was carrying a revolver and would not hesitate to use it. Then, he exposed her to the crowd of mostly men, the more shameless of which pushed to the front to peek. “Pretty in pink, isn’t she?” he asked the audience. Their praises hid her whimpers beautifully.

When the bidding ended, he’d pulled in nearly double for the woman, as much as a teenager would have gotten him, and she was sold to a cobalt baron operating two mines in Africa. The baron thanked him personally, but Jamie was already too distracted by one of the female bidders to pay him any mind. He was hopped up on the attention he had gotten on the stage and wanted to ride that high with a jobby or some old-fashioned sex.

___

A year later, the auctions were still as alive as the year before, and Jamie was in the prime of his trade. He’d just sold his own bodies and was enjoying what the auction had to offer, namely the provided drinks, while other traffickers paraded their finds across the stage. The women on the stage didn’t interest him. No unwilling woman did. If he wanted a little fight, he made a consenting partner regret their decision. He didn’t force himself on a bird like a pathetic, desperate little boy.

While he was enjoying an aged bourbon and tolerating the company of an elderly braggart, his table was approached by a portly middle-aged man with a booming voice and his lovely date, a miserable-looking woman with a hollow stare. Not every piece of arm candy was made for their lifestyle he supposed. It could be traumatising for some. “James!”

“Call me Jamie,” he corrected, offering a friendly handshake, which was eagerly accepted. It jostled his arm like an umbrella caught in the wind, but it was a fun experience that made him laugh. With a charming smile, Jamie gestured to the seat beside him. “Join me.” Maybe the boisterous bloke would drown out his previous company’s claims of being "as virile as a pubescent boy”. Disgusting really.

The man settled onto the chair while his date stood at his side with a hand on his shoulder, not at all strange in a community where women were accessories, even the ones that weren’t literally property. “Jamie, good man, I’m glad to see you back this year. You have the best taste, the best of them, ya hear?” the man complimented in an excessively Texan accent, and Jamie preened. No one had better taste in birds than Jamie Braddock, it was true! “I can’t wait to take my new girl home. She’s going to make a fine addition to my collection!”

Jamie took a satisfying gulp from his drink, one that warmed his core and promised a bit of gradual relaxation from the adrenaline high of his success. “A collector, are you? I see you’re a man of fine taste yourself.” He indicated his date with a tilt of his nearly empty glass in her direction. She didn’t react, just stared ahead like a soldier. Odd, but not odd enough to really note. All he was interested in was how her tiny dress was too short to cover the crease in her silk knickers.

“Do you like her? Claire, sweetheart, show him some of that southern hospitality I offer at the manor. Maybe it’ll give him a reason to visit.” A swat on Claire’s bottom sent her over to Jamie. “Something tells me we would get along outside of these auctions here.”

Jamie had expected a little stroke of his cheek, maybe a kiss from the dolled-up companion. What he hadn’t expected was for her to slide into his lap, nor had he expected her hands to stroke over his shoulders and down his chest. As surprised as he was, he didn’t show it, just smiled at the woman he admittedly thought was quite pretty, though she would have been prettier with a smile on her lips. “Well, hello there. Aren’t you an affectionate one?” he chuckled. His arm settled around her waist instinctively, ensuring she wouldn’t experience any nasty spills while in his care.

“What makes you think that, hm?” he asked the man, politely redirecting his attention where was most respectful. After all, his lap candy was a temporary gift, not his company. Though he wondered what the gift was meant to be when her hands continued to wander and her lips painted his neck a vibrant red with sultry kisses.

A smirk slanted the man’s lips as he watched Claire find the end of Jamie’s shirt to feel up under it. A voyeur, Jamie assumed. Good thing he was an exhibitionist. “I hear we both enjoy women, but prefer the company of men.”

At the time, that sentence could have meant two very different things, but Jamie was not in the mood for corrections. He was far too distracted by the hips rolling enticingly against his own, all too aware of how those silk-covered lips were sliding over the cover of his zipper. Oh, he realised. She meant to fuck him. He forgot to answer the claim for a moment, looking down at the woman’s pushed-up chest. He wondered what she looked like without an underwire and padding. Curious, shameless, and entitled, he couldn’t help but to pull the straps of her dress and bra down her arms to expose her. Lovely, he mused, as he cupped one perky breast and thumbed over her pert nipple. As a breast man, he was sold in that moment. Maybe they weren’t the size he liked, but they were still the shape he favoured.

“Well said,” he replied absentmindedly. All that he received in response was a chuckle and a sigh. It occurred to him that he was probably being set up so the bloke could see his cock, but he didn’t care, not when practised hands were unbuckling his belt and opening his trousers. To save himself the mess that a horny bird could make, he moved things along a bit quicker than normal and lifted his hips to push his pricey trousers down his thighs. Then, he leaned down and indulged, taking a rosy nipple into his mouth, as his hardening length was enveloped by a certain moist heat.

It didn’t occur to him, not once, that he was fucking a sex slave, a woman he had sold into a waking nightmare that would haunt her for the rest of her life, because dolled-up white women were usually dates at the auctions. He didn’t consider that he was raping a woman who would have been brutally punished, or even killed, had she refused to pleasure him. Had he known, he would have refused her.

___

It was like a scene out of an American sitcom, a perfect little cul-de-sac with cookie cutter houses and perfectly manicured lawns in the middle of Garry Marshall‘s USA. Jamie checked the string that was pulled tight from his core, a manifestation of reality that no one else could see. It definitely led to the home at the very end of the street.

Over the years, he had pointedly ignored two very prominent strings attached to himself, even though he had known what they were. In various states of sanity, he had dismissed even the tiniest niggling of curiosity about them. Until recently, when a tiny fairy child with pointed elvish ears had asked him a question.

Uncle Jamie, why don’t you have any children?

It took a fight with his nerves, but, eventually, he mustered the courage to leave his car, which he left at the entrance to the cul-de-sac. He had already made a visit to another family, so he thought he knew what to expect.

He had no idea.

Before he could ring the doorbell, he saw the blinds on the window closest to the front door snap back into place. Had someone been watching him? Then, there was a panicked order. The words were too muffled to make out, but he knew the tone. “Wha--?”

The door swung open violently then, revealing a heavyset woman with a revolver, the same gun he had used in front of the terrified victims of his trafficking. “You won’t take me or my daughter,” she told him, her voice holding conviction, but shaking with a fear Jamie did not understand.

Taking advantage of her shaking hands, Jamie reached out and simply took the gun in a manoeuvre he had learned from an American soldier turned mercenary, twisting his body out of her aim and into her body at the same time. She stumbled back with the impact, but he caught her by the shirt to keep her upright. He then casually tossed the revolver into the bushes lining her driveway. “I’m not here to take anyone. What the bloody Hell was all that for, you crazy bird?”

“Like you don’t know!” she snapped, shaking bodily since she was no longer armed and at the mercy of Jamie Braddock.

“Are you that bloody pissed that I left you up the duff?" Speaking of which, he looked past her at the empty home. No, not empty. When he unfocused his vision, more like focused it in an unnatural way, he could see the string leading up the stairs.

“Up the--?” she stuttered, perplexed. Jamie made a mental note not to use too much British slang. He would have explained, but she wasn’t done. “You--YOU SOLD ME INTO SEX SLAVERY AND RAPED ME!” Her scream left the monster of her nightmares with a ringing in his ears, either from the volume or the realisation of who he was speaking to and what he had done to her...

But he had never raped anyone. “Do I look like I need to force myself on someone to get off?” he accused, shoving her backwards. She was lying. Had to be.

The woman stumbled, but she caught herself on her banister before she could fall. As she was righting herself, Jamie walked past, jogging up the stairs.

He didn’t see the woman run outside, nor would he have cared. He was on a mission to find where the string led. That was what was important. That was why he was in America. Into a bedroom he crept and up to a closet with its door swung wide open. There, he found nothing out of the ordinary, save for a woman’s shoes scattered outside of it and an invisible bright red string leading into the back of it.

Curiously, he crouched down and crawled beneath the clothing hanging overhead. Then, he gave the back wall a couple of light taps with a knuckle. Tap tap. “Hello? Can you hear me, little one?” he called out softly.

“Go away!” came a small boy’s voice, followed by another child’s voice that promptly hushed him.

There was more than one behind the door! “It’s alright, little mites. Your mummy had a bit of a fright, but she said you can come out now,” he urged gently.

It took a moment of hushed debating, but, finally, there was a click, and the door opened in to three young children, two little boys and their older sister. The string ended at the girl, buried so deeply in the tangle of red that was her reality that it could never be pulled. It was integral to her very existence. If Jamie severed it, she would simply disappear, because she could not exist without that link to him. To Jamie. Her father.

There was no question about it really. He didn’t need a string or a blood test to tell him the little girl with the telltale Braddock blue eyes and certain freckles he remembered dotting Betsy’s face as a girl was his daughter. In fact, she looked an awful lot like Betsy, save for her wavy brown hair. It was a bit disorienting.

“You sound funny,” said one of the boys, snapping Jamie out of his awe. Good thing too. His hold on sanity was not its strongest.

Jamie laughed and gave the boy’s cheek a pinch. “Do I?”

His laughter must have been contagious to the little girl, who giggled in response. “You do! You sound like Harry Potter!” she told him.

“Well,” he started as he reached into the little hiding spot and scooped the children into his strong arms, strong enough for three little ones at least, “I am not Harry Potter. My name is Jamie. What are your names?”

“I’m Jack, and that’s Angel.” The smaller boy gripped Jamie’s shoulder and enjoyed the ride up to a man’s height, while his sister sat comfortably on Jamie’s hip, an arm looped around his bicep for security and a hand resting on his chest for comfort.

“Tim.” The eldest of the two boys was less trusting than his chatty siblings, but, eventually, he wrapped his arms around the stranger’s neck to steady himself and seated his bum on Jamie’s forearm.

“Angel, is it? Are you a little angel?” he asked, smiling warmly at the namesake peering up at him.

In that moment, there was a commotion of heavy hurried footsteps, and the woman appeared at the bedroom doorway brandishing the gun she had fished out of the bushes. When she saw her children in Jamie’s arms, though, she quickly hid the weapon behind her back. Poor bird looked like her world was about to be shattered.

“Mommy! Doesn’t Jamie sound like Harry Potter?” asked Angel, unaware of the terror on her mother’s face. Poor thing had probably never seen that look on her before. Hopefully, she hadn’t.

The woman gave Jamie a cautious questioning look for a too-long moment, then tried to fix her expression into something less frightening for the children. “He...sounds British, yes,” she confirmed, though it wasn’t as amusing to her.

Seeing how things were awkward, Jamie set the siblings down on their feet and gave the two taller ones a pat on their backs. “Off to your rooms to play now. I have to talk to mommy. Boring adult topics. Taxes and...politics,” he lied.

Tim huffed out an unenthusiastic, “Ugh, yawn,” and waved his siblings along. “Let’s play robots.”

Angel was clearly not pleased with his suggestion. “But I wanna play Barbies, Tim!”

Jamie waited until they were out of earshot before he addressed their mother. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Downstairs in the living area, they sat across from one another. Claire introduced herself none too politely and explained her accusations. She told Jamie about her experiences with the men he had hired.

“After we were brought to the warehouse, we were all...checked. They had us strip, lay on our backs on a dirty tarp on the concrete, and spread our legs for them. They...spread us open with their fingers and looked for unbroken hymens. Despite being a virgin, I was labelled “used”, because I had no hymen, and that meant...they could rape me as much as they wanted while I was there...and they did. Every...day...”

There was nothing Jamie could say to that. He just stared down at his hands folded in his lap. Her torment had been his explicit orders. Not only had the constant sexual abuse served as a means to break their spirits, but part of his payment to the men had been access to the bodies they had helped him kidnap. She had paid those men with her pain.

The strained conversation continued with a question Claire could only find an answer to from Jamie. “Before the auction, we were served a course of pills. What were they?”

Jamie answered with the cold hard truth, though he kept his head down. “PEP for HIV exposure and Mifepristone, to abort any pregnancies that might have occurred.”

“PEP?” Incredulously, she asked again. “PEP?”

A nod was all he offered.

Careful not to alarm her children, she found a balance between quiet and pure rage. “That was almost three weeks after the rapes started! What the fuck was it supposed to do then?”

Again, he stayed quiet, having nothing to offer. He had known about the 72 hour limit, of course, but he hadn’t cared about the effectiveness of the drug regimen, just that he had been able to advertise them as having taken HIV prevention drugs.

Obviously not satisfied with his silence, Claire threw the revolver at him.

The gun didn’t go off, thankfully, but it was a heavy hunk of metal that collided with the top of his head. Jamie covered the sore spot, then checked his hand for blood. There was a bit, but not enough to worry about. Angry, but feeling as though he had deserved that, all he did was glare at his victim and shove the gun between her couch cushions so she couldn’t use it again.

Claire seemed to wait for his retaliation, but, when none came, she continued with her story, her words bleeding with loathing. “Ironic, isn’t it? You forced an abortion on me, but I had a baby anyway, yours.” After a short stretch of his silence, she clarified. “You sold me to the owner of a few cobalt mines, Daniel Thomas. He was a sick man. Most of the women he bought, he forced to have sex with the men he was interested in so he could watch. One of those men was you, Jamie. One night, at one of those...damn auctions, he told me to show you some “southern hospitality”. Do you remember that? I had no choice. The last woman who refused was killed for embarrassing him in front of one of his crushes. He choked her to death with his belt...She’s probably still buried on the edge of that mine...I didn’t...want to end up like her, so I did what he told me to do.”

His fists clenched to stop his hands from shaking. It was true. He had raped her. The memory was so vivid, and he couldn’t deny how miserable she had looked, how dead inside she had been. She had been a slave, not a date. He should have known, but he hadn’t cared enough to consider it.

“I knew I was pregnant a month or so after. I just knew it. No test. Just intuition. That was what snapped me out of the daze I was in. It all went from a nightmare that didn’t feel real to...reality. I knew I had to escape...to get an abortion. The last thing I wanted was to have your baby.”

Honestly, he would have agreed with that decision. He would have forced it upon her had he known. That was what he had done with every woman who had come to him with a bun in the oven. “Why did you change your mind?”

“I didn’t,” she scoffed. “When I finally escaped, it was too late. I was eight months pregnant." She sniffed back her welling tears, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, and Jamie couldn’t blame her for feeling emotional. “At first, I was going to give her up for adoption...When I saw her, though...I couldn’t let her go. I thought I would hate her. I thought her face would take me back to that day when you took me...but all I saw was my little angel...”

Jamie didn’t know if he believed in God. He had met people as powerful as God, even considered himself among them. He supposed that made his daughter an angel sent by God, a thought he kept to himself. There was a time and place.

The conversation never got any easier. Claire was too traumatised to forgive him, not that he would ever ask for forgiveness, and couldn’t calm down enough to answer his questions without a thick layer of spite. What he managed to gather from her, though, was that she was a good mother, the best a woman in her situation could be. She loved her children and was willing to protect them with her life. He also learned they had a father, the boys’ biological father, who was a good father to all of them. Legally, he was Angel’s father too, and she understood him to be her father. The two parents had divorced a little over a year ago. It had been a smooth separation, though, and he still acted as the children’s father, albeit usually on the weekends.

Jamie told her about his faults. She seemed annoyed to hear about him at first, before she realised he was telling her pertinent medical information and hereditary issues, like his problem with addiction. That, he watched her soak up like a sponge, storing it away for when her daughter was old enough to experiment with drugs. He put extra emphasis on gambling.

“Now, that would be the thing to end her,” he warned, and Claire’s softened expression told him she understood. She could never expose her daughter to gambling, even in the form of a children’s game.

His list of strengths was less interesting to her, but Jamie thought it necessary to prepare her for a child that could excel beyond expectations. A glare after a mention of his charisma shut him up, though.

After that, they sat in silence, Claire suffering his presence while Jamie waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, he just knew there had to be more to be said. She showed no sign of speaking, though. When it occurred to him that he had done the unthinkable to Claire and was currently sitting beside her gun, he promptly excused himself to allow her a chance to retrieve her weapon, which would give her some comfort, and to retrieve something himself.

Unfortunately for Claire, he returned minutes later, carrying a folder and a strip of paper he had retrieved from his car. He watched her decide whether or not to shut the door in his face, or maybe even shoot him, before she stepped out of his way. Good choice, he thought. Once inside, he set the folder on the coffee table and explained what was inside.

“I don’t want anything from you!” she screamed, a sound so filled with pain, disgust, and rage that Jamie would never forget it. The giggles of the children playing upstairs silenced for just a moment, but resumed when the screaming seemed to be done. After looking inside of it in disbelief, she tried to throw the folder back into his face, but Jamie just gathered the paperwork back into it and set it back down on her coffee table, assuring her she didn’t have to touch it, but her daughter deserved it.

He had opened six accounts the day before with the help of two trusted lawyers, lawyers who were now trustees for those accounts. One of the lawyers was a bit strict, a prick really, but the other was familiar with the Braddock family’s eldest, as he had served the family for decades, and was instructed to bend and overrule the other when he knew Jamie would insist on approval. Two of the accounts were trusts for the mothers of his children, set aside for them to do with as they wished, as long as there was some benefit for his children. They were permitted large purchases, not just the bare essentials, from a larger home for the child to play in to a wedding to celebrate the formation of a family the child deserved. Two of the accounts were higher education funds only to be used on higher education and everything required by it, not limited to just university. Both held three times the value of what they could ever need from them to factor for inflation, and the rest was theirs when they received a degree or certificate. The last two held an inheritance for when the children fulfilled their higher education requirements. They would never want for anything.

That was all Jamie had to offer his children, the Braddock fortune and what was on the strip of paper, a direct line to the Braddock they deserved, Brian. He made certain to tell Claire that Brian was nothing like him, that he had even left him to die for his crimes. She seemed receptive to the number after that. Understandably.

At the end of the visit, when Jamie finally decided it was time to leave his victim in peace, he sought out his daughter. The string that connected them guided him up to what looked to be her brothers’ room, her mother close behind him, where Angel was pouting as her brother treated her Barbie like the villain in his hero robot story. When they noticed Jamie, they all brightened, not just the little girl who would always feel an inexplicable connection to him.

“Come now, give us a hug,” he told the children, who were blissfully unaware of the monster he was. Since their first meeting had dissipated their fears, they nearly pounced him for the offered hug. He laughed and embraced them all at once, but his left hand rested over his daughter’s back affectionately to feel her warmth, the beat of her heart, and the texture of her hair hanging loosely down her back. He breathed her in, then admired her face for a long moment after they parted, because it was the last time he would ever see her.

As children do, they whined when he bid them farewell, but he told them their mommy was going to get them ice cream. It earned him a glare, but it was less severe than the ones Claire had cut him with earlier.

“Do her a favour, will you? Don’t ever let her find out the truth,” he told Claire as he walked out of her door and out of their lives.

___

Jamie sat six blocks from Claire’s house in his luxury car as he choked back tears, pounding on his steering wheel in place of striking himself in the face or worse. It didn’t help. Nothing would. There was no outlet for what he was feeling.

His daughter was the product of rape and a consequence of his evildoing and hedonism. His daughter. A little girl as a consequence of his abuse of women. Fitting, but terribly unfair for Angel. He felt sick. He felt disgusted with himself.

“FUCK!” he screamed into the vehicle. “FUUUCK!” His cries were like a trapped animal, helpless howls of despair.

What had he done? What had he fucking done!?

With time, his voice grew hoarse and his eyes began to burn, and his cries...

...became hysterical laughter.

#Was that crude? I thought the new Krakoa was into that sort of thing. ‼ Not Safe for Work #Got to be a joker / he just do what he please. ‼ Headcanon #[ How Jamie's daughter came to be. ]

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rrinkyoo · 2 months

Text

MASQUERADE

chapter one | wattpad link

t. fushiguro

agent!toji x stripper!reader 🎀

as an undercover agent, toji examines a mysterious nightclub in shibuya city in pursuit of a high-profile case. in the amidst of his investigation, he finds himself intrigued by a fascinating dancer who he knows will be the answer to his questions.

!! this is a re-upload! i decided to start publishing this series on wattpad instead 🎀

lowercase intended

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of rape (not in this chapter), mentions of murder, assault, cursing, reader being uncooperative, mean toji (sometimes), luna is a stage name

shibuya city, nestled in the heart of tokyo, was a magical place. bright lights adorn the signs and buildings and hundreds of people weave through the streets. during the daytime, the city is filled with hundreds of people weaving through the streets. laughter echoing from every corner, conversations spewing left and right, and groups of people reveling in fun.

but as the sun dipped below the horizon, its innocence fades, and a new city is born. music booms through the walls as the clubs and bars open, and the energy shifts tremendously.

exotic dancers, gamblers, criminals, you name it. they all roam the streets of shibuya when the sun goes down. the energy changes into one that's filled with heavy excitement, passion, and desire, where everything is an escape from someone's mundane life.

however, people are blinded by the horrors that go on behind the scenes. darker and haunting set of circumstances, that could torment someone for eternity if they happen to get involved. but hidden by the haven of pleasure, nobody suspects a thing.

──═━┈━═──

the department was in its usual state that day. not too busy, with the sound of printers and clacking of keyboards being the only sounds that were heard, and the occasional slurping of people drinking from their mugs. toji fushiguro was sat at his desk, reviewing a recent case that had been dealt with.

a manila envelope plopped onto toji's desk, which caused him to look up from his computer and at the man who dropped it. “what's this?” he questioned as he opened the envelope and took out the stack of papers.

his case officer, shiu kong, took a huff of his cigarette and blew the smoke to the side. “new case.” he said nonchalantly as toji flipped through the papers. “pretty big one if you ask me.”

the name *Seventh Heaven* was plastered on the front. “seventh heaven? that one club in the middle of the city?” toji asked. he knew of it, of course he did. it's all everybody ever talked about. good music, amazing drinks, and beautiful girls. but it never piqued his interest.

shiu nodded in response to his question. “yep, some shady shit going on with them. and not just here, every club in the city.” he added as he took one last puff of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the ashtray on toji's desk.

toji's eyebrows raised at this information. “all of them?” he wanted to say he was surprised, but he wasn't. he always had a gut instinct about these clubs. with how much money they had? there's no way it was all made *just* from them.

“mhm, all of them.” shiu confirmed. “it's like a.. chain. everyone working together, you know? we've got the idea, but not enough evidence for convictions.” he explained. toji nodded as he continued to read through the papers.

human and drug trafficking, money laundering, illegal gambling, murders, blackmailing, and almost every other crime you could name under the sun was listed in this paper. how did they do so much and get away with it so easily?

“how do we not have enough evidence if we know all this stuff?” toji asked. shiu shook his head as he lit another cigarette. “it's all just speculation. we gathered stuff in the system and it mostly led back to the clubs.” toji nodded once again.

“so.. tonight?”

“tonight.”

──═━┈━═──

he'd only entered the club just a couple of minutes ago, but toji's head was already pounding and he wanted to leave immediately. the atmosphere wasn't something he was used to, driving him way out of his comfort zone.

pulsating with almost intoxicating lights, the air was filled with heavy perfume and alcohol, and a hefty scent of marijuana was present. sweaty bodies of people dancing took up half of the room, and the beat of the music amplified everything around him.

he deeply exhaled before turning to face shiu. “let's do this.” he muttered. shiu nodded and the pair of men went their separate ways. toji knew (and dreaded) that the investigation would take weeks, even a couple of months to crack. so he knew that whatever he did, he needed to do it carefully and cautiously.

shiu's job was fairly simple. all he had to do was watch over toji and keep his cover in case anything happened. toji's on the other hand was way more difficult. he needed to get *inside* them.

befriend the bouncers, the bartenders, and the dancers to see who spills. there were weeks and months of long and tiring work ahead of him. now was the time for him to get started.

toji awkwardly slid through the crowd of people, making his way to the stripper lounge where an unsurprisingly large group of men sat. it was sad, to say the least. all these men were either broke and spending all their money to get a good time or out cheating on their wives and fucking over their kids.

toji sighed deeply as he found an empty seat and sat down. he glanced around the place to observe all of his surroundings. everything had an uneasy feeling. everyone seemed suspicious.. he should get prepared just in case–

“give it up for luna!”

his thoughts were interrupted by the lights dimming, followed by the announcer's voice booming through the speaker. as the colorful lights shone back on, the silhouette of a girl was all the audience could make out. and yet, this alone was enough to send an uproar throughout the whole club.

toji's eyebrows knitted as his gaze bounced off each person that screamed beside him. he continued to stare at the girl as she posed from the shadows. *what's so special about her?* he asked himself. but when she stepped forward, he understood why.

she was the embodiment of a goddess. her skimpy outfit barely covered the areas of her body, and her movements were alluring as she swung herself fluidly on the pole. toji was caught in a trance, he couldn't seem to close his mouth he hadn't even noticed opened. but what really grabbed his attention, were her eyes. they were captivating, almost siren-like as he would describe it.

there was no doubt in toji's mind that she was what he needed. her popularity was evident based on the reaction from everyone, it seemed that she'd worked here for a while.

he was so mesmerized by her that he didn't even how fast the time had passed until he saw her get off the stage. even though it didn't, the spotlight seemed to follow her as she walked off, casting a seductive spell on the desperate men that kneeled before her. dollar bills were scattered on the ground and some were stuffed on the waistband of her underwear.

toji snaps himself out of it. eyeing her down would do nothing for this investigation. he had to get to her, and quickly.

──═━┈━═──

his plan for moving quickly did not work out. some group of pretty social guys went up to him and offered a drink, and who was he to deny free beer?

“so do you come here often? i never see you around.” the random man slurred as he gulped down his drink. he was extremely intoxicated, and toji's face slightly scrunched up as the smell of strong liquor came in contact with his face.

“nope, it's my first time here. just decided to try something new.” toji muttered as he took small sips from his drink. another man, equally as drunk as the other, wrapped his arm around toji's broad shoulders. “you're gonna love it! i've been here a while and practically know everybody here, they're all amazing!” he stumbled. *he knew everyone?* “i can show you around the place, so you can get to know some people. maybe even get you some special treatment too.” he winked and nudged toji's side.

the man, whose name he later found out was gojo, led him around the club. he showed toji to everyone he knew, which made toji's job of befriending people so much easier although, there was one person he still hadn't had the opportunity to see.

“there was this girl that was dancing not too long ago.. where everyone started screaming. you know who that is?” toji asked, and gojo seemed to know who he was talking about immediately. “yeah! you're talking about luna, right?” gojo grabs toji's wrist and searches the club for her. “she's one of my good friends. real nice girl! you're gonna love her!”

as the two get closer to the lounge, toji can make out her silhouette once again. her back was towards them, but God did she still look more gorgeous than ever.

“luna!” gojo called out to her, and as she turned around toji swore he felt his heart involuntarily skip a beat. now that he was seeing her up close, she was 10 times more beautiful than he thought she was. she smiled brightly as she turned around and saw gojo.

“hi gojo!” she exclaimed as she hugged him tightly. gojo returned her affection before wrapping his arm around toji and patting his chest roughly. “this is my new friend. show him a good time, yeah?” he muttered in her ear as he slipped her a couple hundred dollar bills. toji's breath hitched as her dazzling eyes made eye contact with his. she smiled seductively at him, and gently grabbed his hand as she started to walk away. “i'll take good care of him.”

──═━┈━═──

the following events weren't what toji expected. all he wanted to do was slyly question her about what was happening at these clubs, but not enough to make her suspicious. when luna dragged him into a private room, all he wanted to do was talk.

but now she was straddled on his waist as they sloppily made out. toji's large hands firmly gripped her waist as her small ones tugged on his hair. small moans and groans left both of their mouths as their lips disheveledly pressed against each other.

suddenly he snapped out of it and remembered the reason he was there. his hands lightly pushed on her shoulders for her to get off, but she wasn't budging. toji cupped her face and then reluctantly forced himself to pull away. “hey, hey.. stop for a second.” he said to her softly.

her eyes softly opened as she stared into his eyes. “what's wrong? i'm not going to hurt you.” luna joked in the same seductive tone as had before then leaned back in to kiss him again.

this went back in forth for quite some time, and toji was getting exceedingly frustrated. no matter how many times he tried to talk she just wouldn't listen. having enough, toji flipped her over forcefully and pinned her down on the bed.

luna yelped and her eyes widen as toji pinned himself on top of her. “what the fuck dude?!” she screeched. toji rolled his eyes while pinning her wrists beside her head. “you really don't listen, do you?” he sneered. she squinted her eyes at him and scoffed.

“it's my job. i need to get paid like everybody else too,” she uttered. her eyebrows were scrunched together as she glanced up at toji with a pouty expression. “could you get off of me? you're heavy.”

“what do you know?” he cut straight to the point. he was tired of her resistance and avoidment.

luna's eyes squinted once again. “what do i know? what do you mean what do i know?” her eyes held a confused look.

“about the clubs.. the bosses, the owners, what do you know?” he interrogated her. her confused expression remained for a bit until a look of realization spread through her face. “holy shit you're a cop.”

luna whispered as if somebody were to hear them. she forcefully broke out of toji's grip and stood up hastily, grabbing the roots of her hair. “fuck you're a cop!” she muttered panicked as she paced back and forth.

toji stood up next to her and held her wrists to stop her from ripping her hair, but she pulled out of his grasp. toji grabbed at her shoulders. “stop, just tell me.” he ordered.

“i'm not telling you shit!” she pushed at his chest and pushed him out of the room as hard as she could. it didn't push him far, but she tried. luna leaned in towards his ear and whispered once again, “you can't be here. get out, and don't come back.” with one final push, toji stumbled out of the room and the door shut in his face.

toji huffed frustratedly, and out of the peripheral of his eye, he could see shiu walking towards him. “what the hell happened in there?” he asked. toji didn't answer, all he did was stare at the door.

toji knew that she knew stuff. lots of stuff. and no matter how stubborn or secretive she may be, toji was going to know everything.

no matter how long it takes.

@rrinkyoo please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my works onto other platforms!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushigro x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro fluff

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