Schmuck Abuse and Goblin Attacks
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: Teeth
Prompts: Gingerbread #19: my, what big teeth you have, Carob #25: selflessness + pocky
Rating: R for torture, language
Characters: Felix Wade, Soul Wade, Unlucky Schmuck #20
Summary: I haven’t abused a schmuck in awhile, let’s change that. XD
“You know, I gotta say, you’re a pretty upstanding guy,” Felix complimented the man.
“You fucking ass-”
Felix grabbed the man’s jaw and forced it open so Soul could push in a mouth clamp and prop open their victim’s mouth.
“It was awfully considerate of you to bring the money you owe us with you,” Felix continued, taking the pliers Soul handed him. Felix tapped them on one of the many gold capped teeth in their victim’s mouth. “Most of the guys we work on aren’t nearly so considerate, so me and Soul really appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: Monsters vs. Mommies
Prompts: Gingerbread #18: someone’s been sleeping in my bed, Pistachio #24: retreat, Carob #14: loneliness + whipped cream
Rating: PG
Characters: Paloma Blaze, Firebird Blaze
Summary: Fluffy fluff with Paloma and Firebird. :) A marshmallow shooter, my favorite childhood toy!
Paloma jerked awake, not quite sure why she was waking up at all. A bleary squint at the clock confirmed her suspicions that now was not a normal time for a person to be conscious. Atlas was snoring lightly beside her, deep asleep, and she curled up closer to him to join him back in the realm of dreams when she heard a faint cry.
The mother immediately realized the sound originated from her daughter. She pushed the covers away and hopped out of bed. There was another cry as she was walking down the hall to Firebird’s room. Paloma’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t a cry of distress exactly, but there was definite urgency in that cry.
“Firebird?” Paloma said softly as she opened the door already cracked open.
“Stop!” Firebird ordered in the generally domineering manner of a five year old.
Paloma did as commanded and stopped in the doorway so she could take stock of the situation. Firebird was standing in the middle of her bed, a flashlight in one hand and the marshmallow shooter Nicky had made for her in the other. Obviously, she’d been using it because the floor was now littered with sugary bombs.
“Firebird! What in the world are you doing?” Paloma asked, her voice rising. Firebird indulged in her fair share of disobedient behaviors, but this was on a whole different level.
“There are goblins under my bed,” Firebird informed her, matching her mother’s anger inch for inch.
Just like that, Paloma’s growing anger disappeared. There had been a desperate tone in Firebird’s voice that Paloma recognized. It took a lot to make Firebird cry when she was frightened, mostly she just got indignant and loud. Obviously this was what had happened.
“Who told you that?” Paloma asked.
“Mac. He said that the goblins hide under your bed and bite your toes off if you put your foot over the edge.”
Paloma was going to smack her nephew the next time she saw him. Mac was sixteen and, like all sixteen year olds, he liked to antagonize people. Probably he didn’t realize how much he’d frightened Firebird with the goblin story, but when did teenagers ever realize the extent of their own idiocy?
“Oh baby,” Paloma moved forward so she could comfort her child.
Firebird bounced on the bed, agitated. “Don’t move! They’ll eat your toes!”
Paloma stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t Mac tell you? Goblins are afraid of mothers. They wouldn’t dare eat my toes.”
Paloma walked forward again before Firebird could come up with a counter-argument. Firebird’s face was pure panic as she brought her marshmallow shooter to her mouth, ready to defend her mother’s digits. Paloma sat resolutely on the edge of the bed, keeping her feet on the ground.
She grabbed Firebird and tumbled her into her lap, holding her close. “See?”
Firebird leaned over the edge of the bed, careful to stay well within her mother’s grasp, so she could see the state of Paloma’s feet for herself. “Why are the goblins afraid of moms?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“We’re much scarier than any silly goblin.”
Paloma didn’t know whether to be amused or offended when Firebird immediately nodded in agreement. Firebird used up all her courage looking at the ground and huddle back into her mother. “Can I sleep with you?” she whispered.
Paloma kissed the top of Firebird’s head. “Of course, baby. I’ll get rid of all the goblins tomorrow.”
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: Childhood Lessons
Prompts: Gingerbread #24: magic lamp, Carob #30: forgetfulness, FotD: irascible (prone to anger; easily provoked to anger; hot-tempered) + fresh peaches (People are direct, which is a rather refreshing change.) + fresh blueberries (There are worse things waiting for man than death. - Algernon Swinburne)
Rating: R for language, implied violence
Characters: Romeo Esposito, Unlucky schmucks #21/22
Summary: I don’t give Romeo nearly enough of the spotlight. :( He’s the Blaze Capo in charge of smuggling goods in and out of the city.
When Romeo had first joined the mafia, he’d thought that, as he’d delved into bigger and better crimes, he’d move beyond the street corner shell games he and his brother had cut their teeth on as kids. But as it turned out, coordinating a city-wide smuggling ring was essentially just running one big shell game. It was Romeo’s job to convince the authorities to look left while he performed a slight of hand and pushed the goods right. As such, Romeo realized that many of the little life lessons he’d picked up as a kid with a deck of marked cards were still very much applicable to his current situation.
Take, for example, the Michelson brothers. They’d approached him a month ago, looking to use the Blaze’s smuggling network to bring in a shipment of antique furniture from Europe. Romeo hadn’t considered the request anything out of place. While drugs and guns were high risk-high reward items, the steady base of their smuggling profits came from importing and exporting materials for people and businesses that didn’t want to give the proper authorities their due cut. So Romeo had given his approval, and the first shipment of three had arrived two days ago.
Now, when Romeo came to the warehouse he’d lent the Michelsons to receive their payment, those childhood life lessons were coming into play. The brothers were looking at him like he used to look at the tourists: like they were all easy marks. Romeo got that distinct itch in the middle of his palms that told him things were not on the up and up.
Keeping half his attention on the bullshit that the elder brother was spouting about the shape of furniture legs, Romeo turned to the shipment. Most was packed into boxes, but his soldiers had opened a couple of them just to ensure that they were filled with what the Michelsons said they were.
Romeo paused when he saw a short brass lamp one of the soldiers had placed on top of the box it had been shipped in. There was nothing overly impressive about the lamp but Romeo wasn’t convinced.
“You interested in the lamp?” the younger Michelson joked.
Romeo turned away from his careful search back to the brothers. Another life lesson: everyone had a tell when they lied. The younger brother looked just as cool as he had before, but Romeo had noticed how much quicker the words had shot out of his mouth now then they had before. He also saw that the older brother was a shade redder in the face than before. It was hot in this warehouse, but Romeo didn’t think that was the reason he was flushing.
“Yes,” Romeo said shortly. Without any other warning, Romeo swept his arm along the top of the box, sending the lamp toppling onto the hard concrete floor
“What the fuck!” The elder brother yelled as the loud clang reverberated through the warehouse. The five Blaze soldiers also reacted, pulling their guns and pointing them at the brothers. Blazes weren’t paranoid, they just covered their bases.
“What the fuck!” The elder Michelson was cherry red now. He made a move to rush at Romeo but Handsome Willy stepped in his way, cocking his gun in a metallic warning.
“Hold them there,” Romeo ordered his soldiers. He crouched down on his haunches to look the lamp over. He couldn’t say he expected the seam around the base of the lamp to have come loose, but he certainly wasn’t surprised.
“What the fuck! You can’t fuckin’ treat our merchandise this way! Who the fuck do you think you are!”
Romeo pulled his pocket knife out and carefully cut around the edge of the lamp. The bottom popped out no problem, along with a pile of small plastic bags filled with a white powder that Romeo was pretty sure wasn’t chalk. Romeo ignored the brothers loud shouting, carefully cutting open one of the bags. He dipped a fingertip in and tasted it. Yeah. Not chalk.
“We’re Blazes,” he finally answered, standing up and turning back to the Michelsons. His soldiers had pushed them to their knees and was restraining them on the ground. “I assume you must not know our reputation or else you wouldn’t have tried to cheat us.”
“Fuck the Blazes!” The elder brother screamed, practically frothing at the mouth with anger. “You’re all a bunch of pansy ass fuckers that scare everyone into obedience. We ain’t fuckin’ scared of you!”
The soldiers reacted about as well to the Michelsons insults as they did to anyone that was stupid enough to insult their family. Romeo let them kick the brothers to the floor but stopped them before they inflicted too much damage. He wanted those two to be fully conscious and able to feel pain before he started in on them.
“Not yet, anyway,” Romeo finished. He turned to Handsome Willy. “I want this shipment moved to a safer warehouse tonight. Call the office and get some of the boys to help you search for the drugs after it’s all moved.”
“Right,” Willy said, disappearing out the side door.
“Are you gonna kill us now, big man?” the elder brother sneered, blood staining his teeth red too now.
Romeo grinned at his mark then, a smile that had made more than one man burst into tears. There was one final lesson that had always served Romeo well: know when to go in for the kill. “Not until you beg me to.”
Title: Teeth
Prompts: Gingerbread #19: my, what big teeth you have, Carob #25: selflessness + pocky
Rating: R for torture, language
Characters: Felix Wade, Soul Wade, Unlucky Schmuck #20
Summary: I haven’t abused a schmuck in awhile, let’s change that. XD
“You know, I gotta say, you’re a pretty upstanding guy,” Felix complimented the man.
“You fucking ass-”
Felix grabbed the man’s jaw and forced it open so Soul could push in a mouth clamp and prop open their victim’s mouth.
“It was awfully considerate of you to bring the money you owe us with you,” Felix continued, taking the pliers Soul handed him. Felix tapped them on one of the many gold capped teeth in their victim’s mouth. “Most of the guys we work on aren’t nearly so considerate, so me and Soul really appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: Monsters vs. Mommies
Prompts: Gingerbread #18: someone’s been sleeping in my bed, Pistachio #24: retreat, Carob #14: loneliness + whipped cream
Rating: PG
Characters: Paloma Blaze, Firebird Blaze
Summary: Fluffy fluff with Paloma and Firebird. :) A marshmallow shooter, my favorite childhood toy!
Paloma jerked awake, not quite sure why she was waking up at all. A bleary squint at the clock confirmed her suspicions that now was not a normal time for a person to be conscious. Atlas was snoring lightly beside her, deep asleep, and she curled up closer to him to join him back in the realm of dreams when she heard a faint cry.
The mother immediately realized the sound originated from her daughter. She pushed the covers away and hopped out of bed. There was another cry as she was walking down the hall to Firebird’s room. Paloma’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t a cry of distress exactly, but there was definite urgency in that cry.
“Firebird?” Paloma said softly as she opened the door already cracked open.
“Stop!” Firebird ordered in the generally domineering manner of a five year old.
Paloma did as commanded and stopped in the doorway so she could take stock of the situation. Firebird was standing in the middle of her bed, a flashlight in one hand and the marshmallow shooter Nicky had made for her in the other. Obviously, she’d been using it because the floor was now littered with sugary bombs.
“Firebird! What in the world are you doing?” Paloma asked, her voice rising. Firebird indulged in her fair share of disobedient behaviors, but this was on a whole different level.
“There are goblins under my bed,” Firebird informed her, matching her mother’s anger inch for inch.
Just like that, Paloma’s growing anger disappeared. There had been a desperate tone in Firebird’s voice that Paloma recognized. It took a lot to make Firebird cry when she was frightened, mostly she just got indignant and loud. Obviously this was what had happened.
“Who told you that?” Paloma asked.
“Mac. He said that the goblins hide under your bed and bite your toes off if you put your foot over the edge.”
Paloma was going to smack her nephew the next time she saw him. Mac was sixteen and, like all sixteen year olds, he liked to antagonize people. Probably he didn’t realize how much he’d frightened Firebird with the goblin story, but when did teenagers ever realize the extent of their own idiocy?
“Oh baby,” Paloma moved forward so she could comfort her child.
Firebird bounced on the bed, agitated. “Don’t move! They’ll eat your toes!”
Paloma stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t Mac tell you? Goblins are afraid of mothers. They wouldn’t dare eat my toes.”
Paloma walked forward again before Firebird could come up with a counter-argument. Firebird’s face was pure panic as she brought her marshmallow shooter to her mouth, ready to defend her mother’s digits. Paloma sat resolutely on the edge of the bed, keeping her feet on the ground.
She grabbed Firebird and tumbled her into her lap, holding her close. “See?”
Firebird leaned over the edge of the bed, careful to stay well within her mother’s grasp, so she could see the state of Paloma’s feet for herself. “Why are the goblins afraid of moms?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“We’re much scarier than any silly goblin.”
Paloma didn’t know whether to be amused or offended when Firebird immediately nodded in agreement. Firebird used up all her courage looking at the ground and huddle back into her mother. “Can I sleep with you?” she whispered.
Paloma kissed the top of Firebird’s head. “Of course, baby. I’ll get rid of all the goblins tomorrow.”
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: Childhood Lessons
Prompts: Gingerbread #24: magic lamp, Carob #30: forgetfulness, FotD: irascible (prone to anger; easily provoked to anger; hot-tempered) + fresh peaches (People are direct, which is a rather refreshing change.) + fresh blueberries (There are worse things waiting for man than death. - Algernon Swinburne)
Rating: R for language, implied violence
Characters: Romeo Esposito, Unlucky schmucks #21/22
Summary: I don’t give Romeo nearly enough of the spotlight. :( He’s the Blaze Capo in charge of smuggling goods in and out of the city.
When Romeo had first joined the mafia, he’d thought that, as he’d delved into bigger and better crimes, he’d move beyond the street corner shell games he and his brother had cut their teeth on as kids. But as it turned out, coordinating a city-wide smuggling ring was essentially just running one big shell game. It was Romeo’s job to convince the authorities to look left while he performed a slight of hand and pushed the goods right. As such, Romeo realized that many of the little life lessons he’d picked up as a kid with a deck of marked cards were still very much applicable to his current situation.
Take, for example, the Michelson brothers. They’d approached him a month ago, looking to use the Blaze’s smuggling network to bring in a shipment of antique furniture from Europe. Romeo hadn’t considered the request anything out of place. While drugs and guns were high risk-high reward items, the steady base of their smuggling profits came from importing and exporting materials for people and businesses that didn’t want to give the proper authorities their due cut. So Romeo had given his approval, and the first shipment of three had arrived two days ago.
Now, when Romeo came to the warehouse he’d lent the Michelsons to receive their payment, those childhood life lessons were coming into play. The brothers were looking at him like he used to look at the tourists: like they were all easy marks. Romeo got that distinct itch in the middle of his palms that told him things were not on the up and up.
Keeping half his attention on the bullshit that the elder brother was spouting about the shape of furniture legs, Romeo turned to the shipment. Most was packed into boxes, but his soldiers had opened a couple of them just to ensure that they were filled with what the Michelsons said they were.
Romeo paused when he saw a short brass lamp one of the soldiers had placed on top of the box it had been shipped in. There was nothing overly impressive about the lamp but Romeo wasn’t convinced.
“You interested in the lamp?” the younger Michelson joked.
Romeo turned away from his careful search back to the brothers. Another life lesson: everyone had a tell when they lied. The younger brother looked just as cool as he had before, but Romeo had noticed how much quicker the words had shot out of his mouth now then they had before. He also saw that the older brother was a shade redder in the face than before. It was hot in this warehouse, but Romeo didn’t think that was the reason he was flushing.
“Yes,” Romeo said shortly. Without any other warning, Romeo swept his arm along the top of the box, sending the lamp toppling onto the hard concrete floor
“What the fuck!” The elder brother yelled as the loud clang reverberated through the warehouse. The five Blaze soldiers also reacted, pulling their guns and pointing them at the brothers. Blazes weren’t paranoid, they just covered their bases.
“What the fuck!” The elder Michelson was cherry red now. He made a move to rush at Romeo but Handsome Willy stepped in his way, cocking his gun in a metallic warning.
“Hold them there,” Romeo ordered his soldiers. He crouched down on his haunches to look the lamp over. He couldn’t say he expected the seam around the base of the lamp to have come loose, but he certainly wasn’t surprised.
“What the fuck! You can’t fuckin’ treat our merchandise this way! Who the fuck do you think you are!”
Romeo pulled his pocket knife out and carefully cut around the edge of the lamp. The bottom popped out no problem, along with a pile of small plastic bags filled with a white powder that Romeo was pretty sure wasn’t chalk. Romeo ignored the brothers loud shouting, carefully cutting open one of the bags. He dipped a fingertip in and tasted it. Yeah. Not chalk.
“We’re Blazes,” he finally answered, standing up and turning back to the Michelsons. His soldiers had pushed them to their knees and was restraining them on the ground. “I assume you must not know our reputation or else you wouldn’t have tried to cheat us.”
“Fuck the Blazes!” The elder brother screamed, practically frothing at the mouth with anger. “You’re all a bunch of pansy ass fuckers that scare everyone into obedience. We ain’t fuckin’ scared of you!”
The soldiers reacted about as well to the Michelsons insults as they did to anyone that was stupid enough to insult their family. Romeo let them kick the brothers to the floor but stopped them before they inflicted too much damage. He wanted those two to be fully conscious and able to feel pain before he started in on them.
“Not yet, anyway,” Romeo finished. He turned to Handsome Willy. “I want this shipment moved to a safer warehouse tonight. Call the office and get some of the boys to help you search for the drugs after it’s all moved.”
“Right,” Willy said, disappearing out the side door.
“Are you gonna kill us now, big man?” the elder brother sneered, blood staining his teeth red too now.
Romeo grinned at his mark then, a smile that had made more than one man burst into tears. There was one final lesson that had always served Romeo well: know when to go in for the kill. “Not until you beg me to.”