#their feud would end as long as the song was blasting and they would belt out together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bbykpoper · 3 years

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Chapter 2 // Masterlist

GENRE: mafia au, fluff, a bit of smut, a smudge of angst if you squint your eyes hard enough, possible fantasy????

SYNOPSIS: A centuries old feud which kept itself silent suddenly ignites once again as two warring gangs face each other for the first time. A family of established immortals who came together after the war, a band of humans who began remembering their past lives and officials breathing down their neck threaten the world once again as fantasy and reality clash in the form of a young man hell bent on being in the lead and a young woman hell bent on ending this meaningless feud. A story will unfold before you now, questioning your morals as well as grinding your nerves to the edge.

“A princess turned assassin?”

“A coward turned prince?”

Who will survive the last wave of this war?

°˖✧

Loud music blasted into the night as people stood around parked cars of different neon colours. Men boasted their engines, while women walked around with drinks in hand going to their respective groups of friends. Two men sighed by a neon orange car which had a few girls around it, glaring at the driver who was more than enjoying the attention.

“Jun, get a hold of yourself.” The man got a loud smack to his head. “We’re not here to entertain but to observe.”

“Whatever Song, they’re still not here.” The man named Jun answered, scratching his head and looking to the other young man for help.

“Don’t get me involved in this.” He laughed. “I’ve been told to expect them around 1 a.m. We have a few more minutes until then.” He turned.

“What else did you manage to find out Bobby?” Song looked over to him.

“NCT was invited especially for this race.” The chill in his voice summoned the night breeze. “It doesn’t sound good. It could be a deal or something more. But by the faces of some of Bangtan’s boys, it’s dangerous.”

“We can’t exactly interfere, nor can we arrest them.” Song sighed. “This is such a pain in the ass.”

“But hey, we’re the best at this job.” Jun smirked, looking on at the incoming cars. “Uh-oh, that doesn’t look good.”

The trio noticed a car stop not far from the black sleek 2006 Mazda RX-8. Three men got out and their eyes widened when they noticed NCT’s right-hand man Johnny, followed by their sharp shooter Bulls Eye and their bomb expert as well as head of operations Brain. They followed them walking with their eyes and almost sat down on their asses when they noticed four of Bangtan’s highest waiting for them.

“We need to report this to Han.”

“Don’t. Not yet.” Bobby grabbed a hold of the man before he could leave. “Everybody here is being observed right now. You don’t want to allert them to us, do you?”

Song kept still, glancing nervously at the scene unfolding before them.

°˖✧

Johnny buttoned his blazer as he came closer to the four individuals casually standing around a car with extremely prominent pink neon lights underneath it. The black 2006 Nissan 350Z stood out not only because of the pink details on the black body, but because of the young woman sitting on the hood of the car, her gaze fixed on the group of young teens in the distance by the starting line of the track. Her booted feet were dangling off the edge as her baggy pants covered her long legs, three to four sleek belts firmly tied around her thigh. A simple crop top covered her upper body, a small purple heart hidden on the hem. Her face sported the usual black mask, something which became a trademark for her. Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off of the girl, his breath stopping in his throat as he became starstruck by the white haired beauty before him.

“Close your mouth pretty boy, she’ll notice the drool coming from your mouth.” The sudden whisper had Johnny backing up, his gaze turning to the smirking man beside him. “I would have never taken you to be a scaredy cat Johnny boy.”

“I never took you to be a trickster Mastema.” Johnny cleared his throat as all the attention turned to him.

“How come?” The black haired man looked at him, his mouth forming a smirk. “Didn’t little Jaemin tell you what I’m like?”

“You’ve met him?” Brain now stepped forward but was short in his path, the tip of a large blade eerily pressed agains his neck. “What the-”

“Place the blade down baby, we don’t want to scare our guests.”

“He wanted to hit you.” Her voice was so soft and soothing, it took all three NCT boys by surprise. “He represents danger to you and I don’t like it.”

“Ah, you’re so cute.” The black haired man known as Mastema spoke out, coming up to hug her and lower her arm which held the weapon. “He won’t attack me, because I have you.”

The girl backed up, placing the sword before her, both hands placed on the decorative grip as she stood back and glared at the men. Johnny noticed only then the lotus flower around her exposed belly button and his mind started wandering.

“Eyes here Johnny.” His view was blocked by the one man that never left the girl’s side.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Mastema sighed. “You’ve angered poor Solas.”

“Where is Jaemin?!” Brain yelled out, catching the attention of the three.

“Tell you what, if any of you manage to beat my top driver I’ll tell you where he is.” Mastema smiled, his eyes sharp as ever. “But if you lose, you’ll have to tell me why you sent one of your own into our ranks.”

“We don’t have a driver.” The third person, Bulls Eye, finally spoke up.

“I don’t see the issue with that. Why doesn’t Johnny boy drive? He did start out as one.” Mastema smirked. “You’ve taken an incredible ammount of cash from these races Johnny. I’m pretty sure you are qualified to drive.”

His jaw clenched and he looked over at the two men that came with him. Now he actually understood why Boss mentioned to take one of the cars. He really didn’t want to race, bad memories crawled into his mind before he even turned towards the car, but his eyes still went over to the girl. She was observing him too, her white hair falling around her masked face purely to taunt him. Those brown eyes stared right at him, lifeless and cold.

But he knew better.

“Yeonjun!” Mastema called out and young boy, with extremely pink hair walked over to him, a sudden blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Be sure to win this race.” The man’s eyes were sharp and held the promise of murder in them, the young boy nodding.

“Good luck Yeonjun.” Fae spoke up to him as he walked past her to the black Nissan.

“Thank you Lady Fae.” He squeaked out as his blush deepend.

This made Johnny furious and he was in the car in a blink of an eye. He started his engine and pulled up to the starting line as both Solas and Fae walked over to Mastema.

“How did you know he would agree to this Yoongi?” The girl asked, as she sheathed her sword.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yoongi laughed as he looked over to the the cars speeding off. “He is sickeningly obsessed with you.”

Johnny had so many thoughts running through his head as he raced down the street, trying to catch up with the black nissan. Those brown eyes haunted him as he rapidly accelerated. On the other side, Brain and Bulls Eye glared at the three, the first of the two stepping out and demanding answers. Yoongi only put his finger on his own mouth, the smile never leaving his face.

“You need to be patient. You should already know that seeing as you build bombs for a living.” He laughed, when he heard a group cheering as Yeonjun passed the final check point before the finish line, his ass in front of Johnny. “Oh no, it seems Johnny boy has lost his flavour.”

The cars came into view, inches moving between the fronts as they neared the finish line. The girl observed closely, surprised and impressed at the skill NCT’s right hand man was showing. The cars passed the line, Yeonjun winning by a literal inch. Yoongi clapped in amusement as Johnny angrily slammed the door of the mazda.

“Well done Yeonjun, you never disappoint.” Yoongi spoke up as he walked over to Johnny and leaned on his mazda.

“Congradulations kid.” The girl patted the pink haired boy on the shoulder as he went to join up with his friends, a bright smile on his face.

“I’m waiting.” The three men looked at each other, none making a move to speak. “A deal’s a deal. You don’t want to go back on your word, right?”

“We just wanted some information.” Johnny sighed out.

“About?” Solas was becoming irritated by this whole thing and all three men noticed.

“The weapon deal you’re doing with the Chinese. We wanted to fuck that shit up so that we could take over the market there. But here we are.” Bulls Eye spoke up, rolling his eyes at the same time.

“Yuta Nakamoto.” Mastema spoke up. “I’d believe that story if it came from Johnny’s mouth, but seeing as it came from yours I’m having a hard time with it.”

“He’s not lying.” The girl suddenly spoke up, her eyes fixed on Yuta. “He is telling the truth but there is more behind it.”

“Perceptive.” Brain spoke up, his anger evident.

“He mentioned the Chinese. Beelzebub has had some issues with the shipments the past few months. I believe they are working with the Chinese but not to take over our market there.” She looked over at Johnny, their gazes trained on each other. “They most likely threatened you to take us out. They have something on you which you can’t refuse.”

“Oh my, it seems you were spot on Fae.” Yoongi laughed at the troubled look on the men’s faces. “So, what do they got over you?”

“How did you figure that one out?” Johnny asked. “Did Jaemin tell you?”

“No. She’s just really good at reading people.” Solas said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“They have our Chinese branch under control. They broke in and took over, placing our men into a full on hostage situation.” Johnny began explaining. “They contacted us about a month ago, demanding we take out the round table of Bangtan. They want your position in Asia.”

“Jesus, so you predicted this right it seems Fae.” Mastema sighed looking over at the girl. “Let’s go, we need to tell this to Forcas.”

“Wait, what about Jaemin?!” Brain yelled after the three and Mastema turned with a smile.

“You didn’t win the race.” He shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

The girl turned around and looked at the men, taking pitty on them and their devastated faces. She stopped in her tracks, Solas also stopping to wait for her. She looked over at Johnny who was already staring at her and her lifeless eyes turned darker as she spoke up.

“Na Jaemin is dead. I killed him.”

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop fiction #mafia au #fantasy au #johnny seo imagine #johnny suh imagines #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #way v #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct scenarios #ikon #blackpink #bts

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

Text

Wrought Iron Machine (Part 7)

It is almost distracting, the notion of part-taking in S.A.S again. Her mind wanders some during the performance. She wonders if she should remake some of their old songs with a new flavor, that seems like a good way to ease into trying something entirely new. She leans closer to the crowd and belts out the final note, holding it a few beats longer than she would normally. She waits for the instruments to die out, holds the note a little longer, and drops off as well, letting the final note echo about the venue. She dips her head and her braid falls over her shoulder. She takes a deep breath and looks up as the applause sounds.

As they had done the last time, Kuvira leads Wrought Iron Machine backstage and allows the crowd’s anticipation to swell into a climax before re-emerging. She has something special in mind, a way to end the show memorably. “Capital City!” She addresses. “Are you ready for one more song?”

She lets the cheers and claps answer for themselves.

“Let’s do it then.” P’Li shouts.

She decides to go with one of their first songs, ‘In Rafters’. A little ode to the days when she’d taken up parkour as a hobby. A particular night when she had climbed to the highest skyscraper in Republic City, reaching the top at the climax of a sunset. It had been an accomplishment to say pridefully that she had done it without metal nor earthbending.

The song opens with no instrumental backing. Slowly, Ming enters with her drums and then P’Li subtly works her way in with her lead guitar. Baatar enters with his rhythm guitar next and then Ghazan with his bass until they have a full and powerful song.

Only when the song reaches its full speed and intensity, a point where the guitars wail the loudest and Ming’s drum beats per minute increase to her fastest does Kuvira lift her hands to create a flare of metal. Shifting it until it spiked out and glittered in the spotlights. She will leave pyrotechnics to the firebenders, she rather enjoys an explosion of metal in place of a shower of sparks.

Time and time again, P’Li suggested using fire--and perhaps she will one day--but Kuvira likes what they have. It separates them from other bands. Kuvira lifts the raises the final metal spire and climbs atop it and leans towards the crowd for the final verse.

It is another successful performance with another successful encore. She can’t say that Capital City beat the reception they had in Yon Rha’s Village, but it is a success no less. A rather strong way to end their Fire Nation tour if she must say. It is enough to keep her mood elated and optimistic.

Which is why it throws her off when a bought of melancholy and perhaps even doubt works its way in as she lies awake. She doesn’t know where it has come from and she has half the mind to ask P’Li for a light. She puts a hand to her head, she has decided once and for all that she won’t fall back into old habits. Southern Air Sounds has given her the extra push she needed to resist.

But the sudden wave of stress pushes her towards a smoke. Instead she inhales sharply and nudges Baatar awake.

"You’ve had a long night. Why aren't you asleep yet?" He replies after a brief period of quite.

She can’t answer, because she can’t exactly place the reason herself. Maybe the past has decided to surface itself again because she had ended her tour with such a nostalgic song. She was so young…

Finally she answers. "I’m just thinking. Thinking too much perhaps."

"About?"

It is a great many things with varying degrees of distressfulness. So she starts with the least pressing, the one that everyone on that bus could understand. “I’m just wondering. How it is that we can have a rivalry with a band that's only about a month old…a band that's made up of four children."

"It only took them that month to ruin our tour." Baatar points out. “And they sure can drink like adults…”

"Maybe we should just forget about that." Kuvira mutters, had Fire Of Agni even ruined their tour or had they just been trying to shift the blame? “We’ve never even met them.” She doesn’t think that their brief encounter truly counted as meeting them. Frankly, the more she thinks about it the better it sounds. They have enough to worry about without fueling their little petty feud. For the time being Kuvira is rather content to let the past be the past. And in this day and age there is quite a lot she'd like to put behind her. P’Li’s even pettier fude with Ghazan, for one. The one that is putting a rift in their band, the one that is probably part of what had almost ruined their tour. More pressingly she itches to forget, once and for all, about the lack of support her parents provided.

That above all else is what keeps her awake on that night.

That above all accounts for the sudden was of somber.

Southern Air Sounds is the most important show she'll ever lead her band through…the last true shot to bring them back into relevancy. The best shot she has to find a name for them among the legends, among the musical game changers. And her parents can’t be bothered to come, not that she expects them to. She had lost contact with them long ago and has long since let go of her dream; the hope that they would see her in the headlines or on a mover screen and go out of their way to seek her out and reconnect.

“They make themselves hard to forget.” Baatar replies.

But Kuvira has already moved on from that subject. She doesn’t mean to jump around on her fiance, but something bothers her so much more than Fire Of Agni. “I was only eight when I took a shine to singing. I was fond of Jazz.”

Baatar sat up and furrowed his brows. “Where’d that come from.” She detects a chuckle.

“I signed up for a school talent show, I did a cover of a Rough Rhinos song.”

That time her words elicit a blunt chuckle. “Of course you did.”

“I practiced every night and I won. I did all of my school work. I kept my grades up. They still didn’t like it…” She trails off.

“They?”

“My parents.” She clarifies. “After I received my trophy I ran up to my mother smiling like an idiot. I was proud. Because I worked hard, and I won. I beat the older children.” She pauses. “I thought that they were going to congratulate me. I thought that my mother was going to hug me and that my father was going to ruffle my hair and say, ‘good job Ku-Ku’. Instead they were quiet the whole way home.”

She leaves Baatar room to ask questions or make commentary, but he doesn’t fill the silence.

“We got home and had dinner. After that I got a lecture about how singing, painting, writing, all of that, were to be hobbies only and nothing more. That I shouldn’t get so invested just because I won a single competition for children.”

Kuvira sees Baatar go tense. She has told him about her abandonment before, in fact it had been one of the first things she spoke with him about. But she has never given him the details, just little hints as to how much it hurt and still hurts.

“A few nights later the school hosted a teacher to parent meeting. My teacher--her name slips me--decided to show my dream book project to my parents. She didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?”

Kuvira gives a bitter laugh, “How my parents were.” She dabs at a tear that managed to escape. “It was on the last page. There was a question about dream careers. Do you know what I filled in, Baatar?”

“You said that you wanted to be a rockstar?”

“No. I wanted to sing in a Pop-Jazz trio. I even wrote some lyrics.”

“We should use those in a song!” Baatar tries to ease the tension.

And it works, but only for a moment. “I’d rather have P’Li blast me to pieces.” She meant it as a joke, but the look on her face said that her tone had been too deadpan or too dismal.

“Don’t say things like that.” He mumbled.

Kuvira rolls her eyes. “Do you really think that I actually want that?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell with you.” He mumbles.

Kuvira sighs and gets back on track, with a dismissive wave. “Anyhow, I also wrote my idea of what a perfect stage performance would look like. I was scared, Baatar. When they saw that page, I was scared. I thought that my mom was going to slap me. But...but…” Kuvira falters. “But she...she smiled. Father said that it was ‘cute’ and ‘refreshingly optimistic’. But as soon as we got away from my teacher and into the car, it was ‘a silly dream’. My mother asked me if I was serious about that dream. And father told me that it was nonsense and I’d never get anywhere. I don’t got a word in.” It wouldn’t have mattered if they had given her time, she recalls vividly that she had been crying much too hard to get out anything tangible.

“They didn’t…”

“No. They didn’t hit me. They let me sleep in my bed, as usual. The next morning…” she wraps her arms around her middle, her head dipping some. “The next morning I was on the streets. For parting words my father told me that, it didn’t matter because the streets would be where I’d end up anyways. He said that there was no sense in delaying the inevitable.” It had been cruel.

She takes in a shaky breath. Raava, she could use a cigarette.

Baatar opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on simply pulling her closer to him, muttering apologies for crimes that aren’t his own. He strokes her hair. “I had to prove him wrong Bataar. I have to prove him wrong.”

“You already have?”

“He’s waiting for our spotlight to burn out, I know that he is.” Kuvira remarks. “We have to win.”

“We’ll be fine. All we need to do is get Fire Of Agni out of the way.”

Kuvira sits up straighter. “No.” She says firmly. “All we need to do is forget about Fire Of Agni, and focus on Wrought Iron Machine.”

Baatar swallows. “Kuvira…”

“We’re putting too much energy into them and not enough into the music.” Just in case he wants to debate more, she adds, “they want attention anyways.”

Baatar’s lip curves up. “That’s true.”

With a soft yawn, Kuvira snuggles up against Baatar again. “I just want to prove them wrong…”

But is it really?

No. Deep down she knows that what she really wants is to win her parents’ affection.

“Don’t worry about them. You have Su and the rest of our family. My mom has been wanting to catch a show since we left the Earth Kingdom.”

Our family.

The notion was reassuring. It isn’t the family she was born into, but it is a family. A family that will welcome her back home.

“Get some sleep.” Baatar says. “You’re going to need it if you want to prove your point.”

She is already drifting into sleep.

#Avatar #Legend Of Korra #Kuvira #Azula #Baatar #Zuko #Ming-Hua #Mai #P'Li #TyLee #Ghazan #Fanfiction

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