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amaranthineoceans · 3 years

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Everything Weird About Deltarune!

Spoiler Warning for Undertale and Both Chapters of Deltarune! Really! I Literally Go Through Everything I Can Remember About Them!

This is a long post so get comfortable. Also note that my brain doesn't process thoughts into words very well so some of these might not be worded in the best way. :)

Deltarune. The first teaser chapter was released on October 31, 2018, and it came out of nowhere. We've all gone through this, but I'll try and go through every single painstaking detail I can remember. Feel free to reblog and add/correct things.

The weirdness begins right off the bat. The title is an anagram of UNDERTALE. We all know Toby likes to use anagrams when he wants to indirectly tell us when things are related, so it's no surprise that when you go to download DELTARUNE, it warns you that the game is designed for people who have played UNDERTALE. You think, "Cool, so it's a sequel? Or maybe a prequel? A different perspective of UNDERTALE perhaps?" You were wrong; so terribly, terribly wrong! I'll elaborate on this later.

Before you download the application, the terms of service that you must agree to beforehand reads simply and plainly, "You accept everything that will happen from now on." This detail was kinda brushed off in the beginning, because, hey, it's Toby Fox. He does weird stuff all the time. But even in the first chapter, it's apparent that the concept of choice, or more accurately, the lack of it, is a very present theme in the game. I would like to remind you that Toby has announced that there will be one ending in the game. One. I'll elaborate on this later.

The program (as in, what the game is called in your files) is named SURVEY PROGRAM. Why not just call it Deltarune like it is when you download chapter two?

The game launches you, without a title screen, without any setting adjustment options, straight into a reference to the theme of the entire franchise: the lack of choice. A strange formless voice guides you through "making a vessel", with what we know now as a fountain in the background. You have the option to make some very disturbing choices in this character creator, such as making its favorite flavor "pain" or expressing your feelings about it with options such as "fear" and "disgust." You name your "creation," tell the formless voice your name (which is different from your vessel's name) and watch as said formless voice muses over your name at an agonizing pace. It thanks you for your time and tells you that your wonderful creation, (cue music cutout and background removal) will now be discarded. "No one can choose who they are in this world." The screen slowly turns white as the voice says, "Your... name... is..."

It gets weirder. The next scene appears from the whiteness and showcases Toriel calling "Kris" out of bed. Kris' area of the room is very bare in contrast to the other side, which we later discover is Asriel's.

It's Toriel. Why is Toriel here?

Kris is kind of an anagram of Frisk (the protagonist of UNDERTALE) but without the F. I highly doubt this is a coincidence.

Speaking with Noelle is the only reason you can proceed (see what i did there?) while finding a partner in the classroom. This means you can't go through the 1st chapter without knowing who she is. Is it because of the Snowgrave route?

Ralsei is just suspicious to me. There's no way he was just waiting in that castle his whole life alone without some mental toil. So either he's insane or he wasn't alone the whole time. What happened? Is it related to how he can close his eyes and see what Susie is going through when she's apart from the party? Was he just watching everything? Is he related to the formless voice?

Susie's icon is the only one without color in the Dark World.

Jevil's fight is more difficult than Sans'.

Your actions have little consequence in the first chapter. If you choose to go genocide, the only difference in the ending is being run out of the kingdom, and this doesn't carry over to the next chapter. Again, lack of choice, people.

If at the end of chapter one, you walk around town, it's mentioned (notably by Noelle) that you're usually not this talkative. If you go to the hospital and speak with the receptionist, they mention that you used to play the piano in the corner. If you decide to attempt to play the said piano, an out-of-key bash can be heard and the receptionist comments on how you used to play beautifully. If you try this in chapter two, the result is the same. All this is confirmation that Kris is acting noticeably weird.

When you leave the Dark World and walk around town, you can find Sans. He "pretends" to recognize you, and if you tell him you recognize him, he tells you it's funny, considering that you two have never met before. He winks. I'm pretty sure he knows that the player is there.

The mention of Papyrus in both games, but the purposeful lack of him. Like he's avoiding you.

If you go upstairs while inside Asgore's flower shop, there are flowers in glass cases resembling his SOUL collection in UNDERTALE. There's a red flower.

You can't enter the church.

The clock in the storage closet shows a different time than all the others in the school.

If you go all the way south in town and into the woods, the music stops and you come across a rusty, double door is in a hill covered in crass. It's locked. If you go this way in chapter two, however, you watch a cutscene where you and susie happen to find Monster Kid from UNDERTALE (or someone resembling them) and an owl kid in front of the door. The owl kid is pressuring Monster Kid to (presumably) break inside, telling them that they don't want to be a wimp like Kris. Does this imply that Kris is connected to this strange door somehow?

The ending. You know what I'm talking about.

Did Kris actually rip out the SOUL (I say "the" because I'm not entirely sure it's Kris') and knife because they wanted to eat the pie? Did they only eat the pie because Toriel caught them?

Why did they look at the player? Are they sick of being controlled? Is that why they freaked out after the Spamton fight? (later)

Anyway, now we're at chapter two.

DELTARUNE Chapter Two was released on September 17th, 2021. 17. Entry Number 17. Sound familiar?

Asriel's part of the room is different from the last chapter. I don't think this means anything sinister, but I think it means Kris notices different things about the room as the story progresses. My theory is that it will become more sinister in each chapter.

Ralsei getting super excited to see Susie and Kris after a day. As in he has separation anxiety and it breaks my heart. not anything suspicious but it makes me sad so it's on the list.

Kris and Susie's rooms. Ralsei REALLY doesn't want them to leave. Seriously get this boy a therapist. Or a stuffed animal. SOMETHING.

Kris having to gather everything from the storage closet so that people appear in the Dark World????? Why??????????????? They had to do the same thing for the computer lab too.

The golden door. I don't trust it.

How/why the heck did Noelle and Berdley go into the Computer Lab Dark World? I don't see either of them just walking into pulsing void doors without Susie.

Apparently the knight has been gone for a bit and can corrupt people's minds? The king in the first chapter doesn't seem like he can be redeemed but Queen just seems,,, not bad, but a little crazy. I wonder what happened.

Then again, name ONE person in this franchise without trauma.

Spamton.

Horror doesn't bother me. Spamton? Spamton bothers me.

SPAMTON. ENOUGH SAID.

A Kromer is a type of hat invented in the '70s. Nobody named Mike is associated with it, that I can find.

SPAMPTON. HOW DO I EVEN DESCRIBE IT.

HIS SONG IS THE ONLY ONE WITH WORDS.

The way he asks Kris is they want to be a heart on a chain their whole life. Like, dude, no wonder they were screaming after the fight.

WHERE DID THE YELLOW HEART COME FROM. YELLOW MEANS JUSTICE. WHY DOES JUSTICE APPLY.

Kris screaming after the fight and the player not being able to hear it. Don't you dare tell me that's just how the game is designed. There are sound effects characters make throughout the game. None that I can think of apply to Kris, apart from when they rip their soul out.

Ralsei brushing off the Spamton fight. Either that's his coping mechanism or he was trying to shut Susie and Kris up to protect them from... something. I'll touch on that in a minute.

According to Queen, DETERMINATION is a key factor in creating a fountain.

Also according to Queen, Kris, Noelle, and Susie all have DETERMINATION SOULS.

Ralsei freaking out about Berdley making a fountain implies that he may also have DETERMINATION. Why I'm bringing all this up will make sense soon.

How was Noelle able to cast Snowgrave... a spell that she, according to her, didn't know?

The Snowgrave route is so twisted.

You manipulate Noelle into killing Berdley and then, when you get back to the computer lab and investigate his corpse, the text box says that he doesn't seem to be awake. As if you're in denial?

Burgerpants recognizes you. Not Kris. As in the player.

The ending. I don't think I need to describe it. Kris is very methodical without the SOUL. (I say "the" because, again, I'm not 100% convinced it's theirs.) I'm saying this about how they left clues that someone broke into the This proves that they are NOT a mindless, vengeful husk.

HOW DID THEY MAKE THE FOUNTAIN WITHOUT THE SOUL INSIDE OF THEM. DID THEY FEED THE SOUL TO IT AFTERWARDS? IS THAT WHAT THAT WAS?

Another point I would like to make is my theory that Ralsei knows much more than he would have us believe. I might put this into a different post because I have yet to gather my points into a coherent bullet point list, so keep an eye out for that.

Anyway apart from Toriel and Susie being VERY heavy sleepers, I think I've gone through everything. I have a few theories.

1. Kris is possessed by the player and figured out that they could make a fountain from Queen and related to Spamton freaking out about freedom. They then decided to make a fountain going by the logic that "this would tick the player off." This is one of my top theories that assumes that the SOUL is theirs.

And 2. Kris is possessed by both the player and the knight. I think the formless voice at the very beginning of the game is the knight, and they somehow needed the player to possess someone with DETERMINATION. If so, then why Kris? We know from Queen that Noelle and Susie, and maybe even Berdley also have DETERMINATION. The most plausible thing I can think of is the fact that human souls are stronger than monster ones.

I do think that the popular theory (about the one that suggests that the Dark Word is nothing but a figment of a child's imagination, and the events that occur in said Dark World are simply children playing with toys) has been thoroughly dashed due to Berdley's murder in the genocide route of the second chapter. Unless he's not dead. Regardless, how the events (or lack thereof) that occur in the second chapter play through the next will be interesting, especially considering Toby's announcement about how there will be one ending to the game. So either Berdley isn't dead, or he will be.

Aaaand I think that's it! Sorry for the long post; let me know your thoughts and if I missed anything!

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune theory #deltarune theories #deltarune chapter two theory #deltarune chapter two theories #snowgrave #pipis route #deltarune snowgrave #video games #indie game #deltarune spoilers #ralsei #kris #susie #undertale #sans

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brattyfics · 3 years

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— until we meet again, preciosa

PAIRING || bishop losa x black!ofc, miguel galindo x black!ofc (mentioned)

SUMMARY || She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

TAGS || angst, unresolved feelings, not a hea, mentions of toxic relationships, sex (referenced).

WORD COUNT || 1.6k

Shadowy clouds hang overhead, blocking out the warming glow of the Sun. Raindrops pelt the roof above, drumming a beat of their own before pooling down to the concrete paved streets below. Isis watches stray droplets gather on the tall windows for several moments before stepping out onto the covered balcony. It felt colder than usual inside the three-story, Spanish-style shophouse, but outside it’s the opposite-- balmy, earthy. The air is heavy with humidity, so she has to take deep breaths, but she doesn’t enjoy it any less. Invigoration comes with the rain, brings hope for new beginnings, renews faith for the hopeless.

Down below, people dart between vendors to continue their shopping as the rain lightens. Colorful rays spring from puddles up towards the sky. A pair of young siblings splash each other while their mother sells delicious smelling tamales wrapped in banana leaves. Another young woman peddles gold necklaces, praying candles, and other little knick-knacks to the tourists of Sonora. Everybody has to make a living, including Isis.

She spends her days stroking the strings of a guitar or the keys of her piano, helping patrons of the music shop in between. The ground floor of the shophouse boasts string instruments and an extensive collection of vinyl records. After hours, she makes money hosting private piano lessons. She performs at the Discoteca down the street on weekends, fueling her passion for music almost 24/7 except when Preciosa is closed for ‘maintenance’.

Overstock merchandise and whatever else the Mayans’ Motorcycle Clubs needs to store clutters the second floor. Don’t ask, don’t tell is her motto, so whenever they come to the shop, she simply flips the sign to closed. There’s no point in fighting it. Besides, El Presidente always makes it a bearable, if not pleasant, experience. Bishop had called ahead to warn her that he was bringing Hank, Angel, and the new prospect, Angel’s baby brother, along. She could hear them bumping around, a noisy reminder that her shop only thrived because of the illegal deals happening in the back.

“Why don’t you put all that time and energy into something that’ll get you somewhere?” Being a musician wasn’t an acceptable career in her mother’s eyes, so the woman took every chance she could to crush her daughter’s dreams. “Nobody wants to hear all that noise!” Staring out into the street, she can’t help but wonder where she would’ve ended up if her mother had been supportive. Maybe she could have been a star rising to the top of Billboard charts or someone who worked behind the scenes, writing songs, singing demos. She had the skill set. Yes, her path would have been much different.

Isis had stood front and center, crooning out an old school blues song at a hole-in-the-wall spot when Miguel Galindo first laid eyes on her. It was a chance meeting, one that felt like fate at the time because dive bars weren’t his scene. The owner was a business associate who decided to try his hand at being a restaurateur; Miguel had been kind enough to come out and support. When he caught sight of her shapely frame in a slinky, satin number, he insisted on being introduced.

Miguel stood out in a crowd, wearing a tailored button-down, dark dress pants, and an expensive pair of Italian leather shoes. His salt and pepper beard groomed to perfection, hair gelled so that no strand was out of place. The moment she’d looked into his eyes, she was caught in his web. His masculine scent drew her in like honey to a bee. His charisma held her attention. Miguel sweet-talked her all night, insisting Isis sit next to him, eat h’orderves, and drink overpriced champagne. She obliged. Who could say no to that face? He used their close proximity to reel her in like a fish on a hook, leaning down to whisper in her ear. You’re beautiful. He told her. You have such a smooth, seductive tone. You should be performing for bigger crowds. Have you ever thought about branching out? He told her everything her mother never had, so she was a lamb to the slaughter.

For months, Miguel had treated her like his very own LifeSize doll to play with. He took her on shopping sprees, kept her draped in silk and lace. Isis didn’t think of herself as materialistic, but she couldn’t deny being showered in gifts felt splendid. He was always so tender, handling her delicately as his newest prized possession. As time went on, she became more like an ornament. Something for him to marvel at when he felt like it and then hide away the rest of the time. But nothing was worse than him leaving her to harden after he was finished molding her like clay. She asked for more—time, commitment, only for him to do the opposite.

Thus, Preciosa was born. A way for him to placate her and later make it easier for the M.C. to make him money.

“Just a few more minutes, and we’ll be out your way.” Isis jumped at the sound, turning away from the street to see Bishop. She hadn’t heard him come outside; didn’t expect him to venture up into her personal space.

Isis’ smile rarely reached her eyes, Bishop noticed. He stepped forward, holding a velvet box that felt heavier than it was. Her fingertips tickled him as he passed it over. Diamonds surrounded in white gold gleamed as the clouds cleared away for the Sun. Even Bishop could admit the set was gorgeous, but she didn’t look impressed. He hated being Galindo’s delivery boy, watching the way her face fell when the gifts she received became increasingly impersonal with each week. Not long ago, he’d also been tasked with passing along handwritten love notes or antique music sheets that she caressed like she would a lover’s skin.

“Thank you.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment from him. Not for lack of trying-- Miguel always reminded her, appearances were everything. Smile. Don’t make me look bad. But Bishop watched her closely, knew her tells. Despite every nerve in his brain urging him to walk away, he steps forward to stand next to her. His calloused hands rest on the balcony’s edge next to her delicate pair, brown in varying tones of sepia and mahogany contrasting against the white paint.

Bishop feels the heat of her eyes on his frame, but he doesn’t let himself respond. Sharing this moment, a quick breath of fresh air will have to be enough. But she’s all around him, smelling of florals and sweet spices. He can’t think. He fumbles with his pockets in search of a cigarette. “You mind?” She shakes her head but is otherwise silent. Still watching him as he smokes; the way he takes long, steady pulls, cradling the stick between his full lips and then between his strong, veined fingers. She would bet her last dollar that he was an expert at other things involving his fingers and mouth.

When his hand drops again, she links her pinky with his, hesitant but exploratory.

Bishop looks at her, really looks at her like he sees her. It’s nice to be seen, especially when you’re the princess locked up far, far away from everyone you’ve ever known. She’s a black girl from Texas living in Sonora for goodness’ sake. This is no life, and she knows it. Several moments pass where neither can look away, both weighing their desires with the potential consequences.

With a deep breath in, she musters up the courage to ask Bishop what she’s been wanting to for months.

“Stay?”

Her heart feels like it might just explode while she waits for a response.

Bishop drops his head to his chest, cursing under his breath. “Fuck.” If Miguel ever found out… But he already knew what his answer would be. He’d been waiting for the invitation. The heated looks they exchanged, the way her fingers lingered on his when he passed her something. That damned pout she wore when Miguel forgot to send a flower arrangement-- she had no idea Bishop had been the one buying the flowers for some time now. No matter what mood she was in, fresh flowers always brightened her day. He loved watching that lonely look transform into something more lively, curious as she marveled over his choice for the week. He went for variety, slowly learning what she loved and what she just liked; her favorite color, favorite scent.

The subtle tension between them, he wasn’t even certain she noticed. The cash and the bling could’ve blinded her to all other men. But it didn’t.

When the Sun had gone down several hours later, and the guys were gone, Bishop redressed. Belt buckling with a clink, leather sliding over his shoulders easily. He let himself take one last look at her wrapped up in a poofy comforter set. The mustard-yellow velvet complimented her skin in the best way, bringing out a gold undertone. Her eyes seem to have brightened as well. He couldn’t resist leaning over to stroke her sweaty skin. Dark coils stuck to her beautiful face, frizzy in some parts from when she rode him, sweat escaping from her pores, flat in the others from when he laid her on her back and hooked her legs over her shoulders.

He wants to stay, to prop himself up against the intricately carved wood headboard and hold her in his lap while they whisper sweet nothing to each other, but he can’t.

She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

NOTES || This fic and the collage above was inspired by @isisafrofairy’s gorgeous moodboard! Also, the wonderful “Until we meet again, preciosa” line is hers as well. This is my thank you for the moodboard you made for me. I really leaned on the pictures you used for inspiration and I think I managed to capture/include each element. It was so hard not to ruin the surprise, but I was able to shut tf up for once 😂 I’m really proud of how this turned out, and hopefully you enjoy it just as much! Also, I realize the moodboard had nothing to do with Miguel but he lives in my head rent-free apparently 🥴

GENERAL TAGLIST || @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes @amorestevens

MAYANS M.C. TAGLIST || @cant-decide-at-this-moment

#mayans mc #bishop losa x oc #miguel galindo x oc #bishop losa x ofc #bishop losa x black!ofc

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calumxkisses · 3 years

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Yellow | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

summary: prince!calum au - you're his yellow and he's yours.

a/n: hi! 'm not really good with au imagines but i hope you'll like it. let me know what you think of this imagine. love you!

this imagine its inspired by the song: yellow

✰ ✰ ✰

“Yellow.” A sudden voice makes you jump. You close the book you’re reading as you place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating quickly.

The library is huge, the storm lights barely illuminate the room, making it almost impossible to find your way around and read without the help of candles. The smell of old books is strong, there is a lot of dust on the shelves and feeling small near these high shelves make the perfect atmosphere to be able to take refuge from the outside world, from a world made of rules and confined to the land surrounding the property. Your little refuge, however, is interrupted by the presence of this man and you turn around quickly, trying to hide the smile that forms on your face at the sight of the stranger.

Despite the size of the room, the prince appears to be in full control of everything around him. He is standing in front of the door, several meters separate your figure from his, yet you can see the smile he gives you, his hands hidden behind his back and the fine lines near his eyes that underline his amused expression.

“What?” You ask before placing your hand in front of your mouth and widening your eyes. In your mind, a vivid image of your mother scolds you for your language and reminds you that you are no longer a child and that you must be careful when addressing a prince or any other high-ranking social figure.

“I'm sorry for talking to you like that, sir. I'm afraid I don't understand what your 'yellow' refers to.”

Prince Calum laughs briefly before slowly approaching you.

"We've known each other since we were children, we don't need certain formalities."

“My mother says-” you try to justify yourself, but he cuts you off right away.

“Nobody’s here.” He whispers before standing in front of you, keeping some distance to avoid misunderstanding in case someone enters. If it were up to him, there would be no such distance between you, but rules are rules and he would never want to compromise your image.

You look around to make sure no one is spying on you and, sure you are alone with him, you relax your shoulders and jaw, releasing the sigh you were holding back.

“So, yellow?” You ask, smiling, placing the book on the table to your left while you look at the boy, waiting for an answer.

His curly hair is carefully pulled back and the dark circles under his eyes lead you to imagine him sitting at his desk, with a lighted candle next to him and his gaze on the window in front of him, instead of the pages he is holding with his hand, pages he should study in order to become the man his father wants him to be, but that he will never be.

“It was a difficult choice, I will not lie to you. There are so many colors that remind me of you, the red of the dress you wore at your first dance when you entered society, the purple of the vase you broke when you discovered that you have been promised in marriage to an old man or the blue of water of the stream next to the tree where we always go to sit under it. And there are a thousand other colors that I associate to you.”

You smile proudly to hear that he paid attention to every detail and remember how as a child he couldn't even memorize the poems the teachers taught him and the thousand fights you had when you tried in vain to help him learn each verse.

“When I think of you, however, I think back to when you collected Ranunculus repens and put them in your hair, to embellish your hair and feel like the princesses who came to visit us. You always did it and you always took a few more so, when it rained and we couldn't go out, you had your little escort and you could wear them even inside these walls. You always have and if I'm not wrong-”

Calum slowly reaches out his arm towards you, his hand brushes your neck causing you to shiver all over your body, before moving a strand of hair and grabbing something from behind your ear.

“You still wear them.” He whispers, bringing his hand in front of your eyes and showing the small yellow flower you were wearing until a few seconds before.

“They still make me feel like a princess from one of those fairy worlds I read books about.” You whisper, you look down as a sense of shame takes hold in your body. Your heart seems to feel pain as you think back to how you still feel as a child, how you still dream of those fairy tales you hoped you could live one day.

“You're a princess with or without those flowers on, you know it too, you just hope that others see you as you do, too special for a life you don't want to be part of.” He says bringing his fingers under your chin and lifting your face up. His gaze no longer conveys joy and his tone is harsh, an angry expression has taken place on his face.

“Calum..” You try to stop him from speaking that truth you don't want to hear, but his words have broken through your heart and the pain you seemed to feel, now you are definitely feeling. You take a step back, trying to get away from a situation you can't escape from.

“You don't have to do it, you don't have to stay and spend the rest of your life between false smiles and sleepless nights. Your sister will be queen and my father thinks I'm a failure since I was born. Let's run away, me and you. My cottage already has everything we need and I'm sure they will never come looking for us. We will live that fairy tale we imagined for us and we will have the life we always wanted.”

His hand grabs yours and his gaze is on you. You know he's not lying, he told you the love he feels towards you in the dungeons of this same castle and you haven't thought twice before confessing your love to him.

But this castle, these people, is all you have always known.

It’s a world that doesn't belong to you but you can't just leave. There are rules, responsibilities, tasks that you cannot escape.

“It's not that easy, Calum.”

“No, it's not, it's not easy and it won't be. We'll probably end up arguing and you'll regret running away with me. But then you'll think back to all these tight corsets you had to wear, all the formalities you had to comply with and the man you would hold if you have stayed and you will understand that country life is so much better than a life spent in sadness and that that terrible man who made you cry actually loves you madly and just wants what he knows it’s better for you.”

He also grabs the other hand and continues.

“And if you really want to go back, I will be ready to be looked at with scandal by everyone and to take you back to the castle, to face your father and see you held by arms that are not mine.”

You know that it will be hard, but you have never wanted to be a queen. It’s a big responsibility for a girl that just wants to live a fairy tale, that wants to be free in her own terms. You never wanted a kingdom, you never wanted to be property of some old man and certainly you never wanted to spend your existence submitted to someone else’s orders.

You just wanted to be happy, to live your life to the fullest, to love a man who respected you, your dreams, your independence and your passion for flowers and books.

And maybe house cleaning, mud and small rooms will never be like having silk sheets, breakfast prepared by someone else and the floor always clean, but they certainly convey a sense of greater happiness and a life spent in misery and in sadness it’s the dream of those who do not want to fight for what they dream of and are satisfied with mediocrity.

And you don't deserve mediocrity and the guy in front of you knows it well, he sees it in the way you feel uncomfortable during the dances, when your father talks to you about matters you can never take care of because you’re a woman and in the look that you give to your mother when she talks about her marriage, that is only political and not based on love.

You turn to your right, a huge gold mirror near the window reflects the library, the place where you grew up and where you have taken refuge millions of times. You look in the mirror, the diamond earrings reflect the gray of the sky and are too heavy for your ears. Your dress is gorgeous, hand-sewn by the best tailors, yet you don't feel as beautiful as when you wear old, unfashionable clothes and run free for the castle hills, without the fear of getting dirty or ruining expensive dresses.

Your eyes, pupils who love to look at the horizon, are sad, aware that by staying they will not be able to see any wonder. You touch your face, slowly run your hands over your cheeks, over your lips and run your finger over the bridge of your nose, remembering when you were just a little girl and were treated like a normal girl, a girl that loved when her father played with her and touched her nose while making funny noises with his mouth.

Then you look outside. The sky is full of dark clouds, the rain falls incessantly and a few lightning illuminate the afternoon sky. You look at that garden you have walked a thousand times, at all the flowers you have collected and at all the plants you have destroyed while playing with Calum.

You close your eyes thinking about all the places you haven't visited, all the trees you haven't leaned on to read and all the rivers you haven't seen flowing. There is a world out there, you think, that has yet to be discovered. And who are you, if not a woman ready for life's adventures?

“You didn't ask me.” You whisper.

“What?” Calum asks, confused.

“You didn't ask me which color reminds me of you.” You repeat as you slowly turn around to look at him.

A huge smile forms on his face.

“What color do you think when you think of me?”

“When I was ten, one night, I decided to explore the dungeons alone. I wanted to prove to myself that I was able to do anything. I almost made it, I almost managed to face the monster we thought lived in the cells, but then it was all too dark and I ended up going back to my room crying.” You slowly approach him.

“The next night, you showed up in my room with a jar full of fireflies, you gave it to me and whispered "You can do it." I ended up walking through the dungeons with this jar in my hand, you were a few meters behind me to make sure nothing happened to me, but I always knew you were there, even if you tried to hide.”

“I was able to face one of my biggest fears that night. Whatever other problem happened, you were always ready to help me if I needed it, you always supported me, with advice or simply by being close to me, a few steps back to let me free. You were essential in making me grow, while remaining away. Like the stars, who guide the sailors from the sky, they let the sailors do what they believe is right, but they are there to help and guide them if they need it.”

You bring your lips to his ear and whisper: “At midnight, in our place. Don't be late and take the blue carriage, it makes less noise on the street.” You turn around and walk to your room to pack a small bag with all the essentials.

“Wait, you didn't answer my question!” He says turning towards the direction you went.

“You are my yellow, Calum.” You say, you are far away but you know he’s smiling and you smile too.

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johnconstantinesdick · 3 years

Text

Okay *cracks knuckles, accidentally dislocates fingers* @agentscamander-romanoff and @steel-phoenix took the bait and enabled me by asking me to elaborate on my Children of the Watch origins theory. Which means I am about to go ABSOLUTELY feral.

Apologies to anyone for having incorrect Star Wars lore, I’ve barely consumed canon content and I don’t intend to start now. Also sorry if anyone has already said this! I’ve never seen this particular theory/interpretation and it’s made me go a bit insane.

Warnings: discussion of child abuse, cults, and the aftermath of genocide. I don’t go super in depth on any of it but it’s there. Also, I typed this in the notes app of my phone and autocorrect hasn’t quite submitted to some of these names.

SO. I’m going to break this up into sections. 1. Exploring canon 2. Extrapolations/Connecting the red string 3. What does this MEAN??? 4. Complaining about Bo-Katan.

First off, though, here’s my thesis: Children of the Watch is a “splinter group” made up of the children that Death Watch stole, indoctrinated, and abused. They’re also not a cult (Death Watch is though lmao).

1. Exploring Canon:

Okay, so. Canonically, Death Watch has abducted, tortured, and brainwashed children. Arla Fett is an example of that, having been abducted at the age of 14 after her parents were killed and she was subsequently brainwashed into becoming an assassin for Death Watch. She didn’t even hesitate when she found out her brother was alive! That’s how strong the conditioning was! She was so fucked up from it that she spent YEARS in a mental facility, and she outright begged a Jedi to wipe her memories in exchange for a favor. DEATH WATCH DID THAT. And you CANNOT tell me she was the only one they’ve done this to. PLENTY of fic writers have extrapolated off of this and mentioned it, but it’s important to me that everyone know this shit is absolutely rooted in canon.

Another Death Watch Child Abuse Fun Fact: Dred Priest and Isabet Reau, two of the trainers of the clones, canonically had Death Watch leanings and tried to instill Death Watch beliefs in the clones by FORCING THEM TO FIGHT EACH OTHER IN SECRET BATTLE CIRCLES THAT ENDED UP KILLING SOME OF THE CLONES. THEY WERE CHILDREN AT THE TIME, IF IT WASN’T CLEAR. WHAT THE FUCK. If THAT’S not an example of Death Watch abusing the kids under their care then I don’t know what is. It’s suuper not a stretch for me to think that this wasn’t an unheard of thing in more official Death Watch circles.

Also canonically, Bo-Katan has referred to Din’s covert as “Children of the Watch”, and Din, despite obviously being an important and respected member of his community, doesn’t recognize the name, which implies to me that it’s not a name the covert chose for themselves. Rather, a moniker that was given to them after they splintered off of Death Watch. Since this isn’t an opinion and it’s more just… information, I’ll trust Bo-Katan on this one.

We also know for sure that Din’s covert IS connected to Death Watch in some way, seeing as the flashback sequence very clearly shows Mandalorians in blue and gray beskar’gam, the colors of Death Watch. HOWEVER… the Armorer, who seems to hold a high position of authority in the covert, wears gold and copper beskar’gam. Din wears unpainted (v2) or mismatched colored (v1) beskar’gam (I do grant that his paint color counts less towards this because he’s pretty much one of the only people interacting with the outside world and so colors associated with Death Watch are probably a no go no matter what). Paz Vizsla’s armor is a very dark blue with yellow and cyan details and, oh my fucking god I didn’t even know this but he has a fucking MYTHOSAUR SYMBOL ON ONE OF HIS PAULDRONS. THE FUCK???? THAT’S LITERALLY THE SYMBOL OF THE TRUE MANDALORIANS IM. Ok. Okay. I needed a minute. Like I KNOW that the mythosaur skull is Mandalorian symbol in general but I think it just hits different when a Vizsla is wearing it, you know? Especially because the placement is the same as Jaster Mereel’s???? Literal founder of the True Mandalorian movement????? Excuse me???????

Let’s uh. Let’s get back to armor. I can address that… later. So. Anyway. Armor is super important, and it’s uhhh very telling that the covert doesn’t emulate the Death Watch colorscheme strictly. Like, yeah, there’s gray and light blue in there, if you go through some wiki pages, but they’re not the only colors they use, and the Armorer doesn’t even have either of those colors! And she’s the biggest authority we’ve seen! Very fucking interesting!! Bo-Katan still has her armor painted in Death Watch colors! And yet she’s derisive of Din’s covert! Verrry interesting!

We also know that Din’s covert emphasizes children VERY much, more than Death Watch ever would have, imo. It’s expected for the adult members to provide for the foundlings (and it’s VERY interesting that the kids are seemingly all referred to as foundlings iirc. More on that later.), and even though Paz disagrees with Din working with the empire, he and the other members of the covert immediately and with no hesitation come to Din’s aid for this child that Din hasn’t even claimed as his own—it’s amazing! And I will note that Bo-Katan and her warriors do the same upon their initial meeting with Din—Koska dives into danger with no hesitation as soon as Din says the child is still in danger. We see that this solidarity does come at a price for Bo-Katan, though, while the Armorer sees protecting a foundling as a duty that is completely worth all the trouble it brought.

Fascinating also that Boba was 100% on board to help out Din to save Grogu past what Din or anyone else would have expected of him, while Bo-Katan had to be bribed into coming by the promise of Moff Gideon and the darksaber. And she thinks she’s somehow more Mandalorian than him.

And NOW, going way back in time to the beginnings of the True Mandalorian movement, we know that Jaster Mereel originally authored his Supercommando Codex by looking back through history to the Canons of Honor and the Resol’nare, and he took those ideals and ideas and he modernized them to create a set of moral guidelines to follow. And people loved that shit! Death Watch had to infiltrate the True Mandalorians and then trick the Jedi into slaughtering them just to get rid of them, because Jaster’s charisma and his sexy sexy morals were too strong. (God. I fucking LOVE Jaster Mereel if you couldn’t tell.) Anyway, there’s precedent for Mandalorians looking back to their history to bring forth old ideas, repurposed to a modern context. We also know that, canonically, Din’s covert follow the “old ways” of not sharing names and of never taking their helmets off in front of others.

Moving on.

2. Extrapolations/Connecting the red string:

So if we extrapolate from the fact that Death Watch are, uh, super fucking abusive towards the kids that they stole/their own kids, then we’re left with… this group of kids, who have been mistreated and indoctrinated for a LONG TIME, and possibly don’t have that great an understanding of non-toxic Mandalorian culture. And if they’ve been abducted or rescued, whatever, they might not fit back in with the places they were taken from, or they may not have a place to go back to, or they may not even remember where they’re from originally. It’s some prime angst material! Good stuff.

And if we pull the implication from the names that “Children of the Watch” is a splinter group off of Death Watch, it really does make you think… huh, you know what? These two things may be one in the same. Maybe.

And, like, we know that Jaster Mereel and Din’s covert both looked to Mandalorian history to find pillars for their community’s morals. Jaster did so in the middle of a lot of political turmoil, as a way to say “Hey, we can still be Mandalorians in the ways that matter, but being Mandalorian doesn’t mean being a morally bankrupt conqueror. We can have honor and still wear armor and fight and uphold the Resol’nare.”

And I think Din’s covert did so when they were struggling with unlearning the toxic ideals that had been shoved onto them by Death Watch. I think they had to figure out their own way of being Mandalorian or else they would have crumpled under the pressure. And so they looked back to the old ways and picked out the more extreme interpretation of Cin Vhetin (clean slate) which says that, once you swear the Resol’nare and become a Mandalorian, your past doesn’t matter, it’s what you do now that does. You don’t take off your helmet, and you don’t let others know your name, because those things don’t matter to who you are and what you do. (There’s also the issue of the helmet and name rule being an important defense tactic to protect the covert, seeing as how Mandalorians post-Empire are the survivors of genocide. There’s already a fantastic post on it here)

Related, another Mandalorian saying is “Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la.”, meaning “Nobody cares who your parent was, only the parent you’ll be,” which IMO fits in very nicely with how I’m interpreting Din’s covert. It’s all about your actions and future mattering more than your past. I think that when the covert was splitting off and being built, this would be a huge component of them healing. Because the way they were treated and indoctrinated by Death Watch doesn’t have to affect their future actions. They don’t have to perpetuate the cycle of abuse, they can build a covert and a community around caring for foundlings.

Now, onto the foundlings! I find it very interesting that, whenever the covert’s younglings are mentioned, it’s always as foundlings. I think this implies that there’s a focus on saving and raising children more than there is on sharing blood with them, and I think that the covert would be more inclined towards communal raising than typical family units, if only to keep everyone in check and to protect the children from ever being treated as they were. I also find it VERY interesting that there’s a lot of emphasis put on returning children to their own kind. I don’t think Death Watch would have employed that practice, and I think that’s another example of the covert wanting to make their community a better place for children. I think it’s likely a lot of them didn’t get that choice, and they had to leave their cultures and people behind. And so they want to give that choice to their children.

I think it’s also amazing that, like. They keep finding and raising children instead of deciding they’re too damaged or whatever to have kids. Because it doesn’t matter if they have baggage or trauma when a child needs them. That’s FANTASTIC. I’m losing my MIND. It really doesn’t matter who their parents were to them, just the kind of parents they will be. It’s all about breaking that cycle and deciding to be better and I LOVE THAT.

3. What does this MEAN???:

Well. What this means is that Din’s covert has a very clear set of motivations and structure when it comes to how their covert is run. It’s not a cult; in fact it is specifically a group created by cult survivors who are determined to not do to others what was done to them. The rules may seem weird and strict at first glance, but they have a clear purpose and rationale, and no one is trying to amass power. They’re just… trying to do better, and be better.

(This also means that I’m 99% sure that, with the assistance of time travel, at least half of the covert would be SUPER INTO Jaster Mereel. I like to imagine that Paz had, like, a poster of him on his little sewer bedroom wall. I fully believe he painted that mythosaur skull on his pauldron in honor of a good man who was killed by Paz’s own relatives for standing by his morals and daring to try to reform and rally Mandalorians. I also think it would be funny if, like, Din doesn’t know shit about ANYTHING to do with modern history, but Boba mentions that his grandfather is Jaster Mereel and Din is like “OH I KNOW THAT GUY! Yeah he’s cool, he’s the historical crush of like, my entire covert.” And Boba is like. What.)

It also means that it can be up in the air about whether Din was found by Death Watch before his covert splintered off, or if his covert was still just wearing Death Watch colors when he was found. Fun thing to play around with, but right now I don’t want a solid timeline.

Hmm just thought I should add: while the Armorer does seem to have a position of authority, I don’t think the covert can be structured politically with clans and houses like other Mandalorian groups. Like, clan just means family in this context, and is less a part of hierarchy, and I don’t think they would even recognize houses within the covert? Like they MIGHT decide to call themselves part of House Djarin now that Din is Mand’alor, but before that they weren’t like. House Vizsla with Paz as the leader just because they used to be Death Watch. I don’t vibe with that. This isn’t really super relevant, I just wanted to add it.

4. Complaining about Bo-Katan:

Anyway Bo-Katan is absolutely full of shit and it’s doubly disgusting that she’s standing there in Death Watch armor, seemingly still allied to this fucking cult of imperialism and conquest, and she accuses Din of being in a regressive cult, and she implies that the way he engages with the Resol’nare is wrong and like. Repressed or something. God I hate Bo-Katan. But I love to hate her. She’s horrible but I want her to be included in the list of Din’s friends but not the list of people he’d trust his kid with. I have contradictory Bo-Katan feelings, whatever. The most important thing is that all of her opinions are horrible, like, all the time. And we shouldn’t trust her when she says Din’s part of a cult. Literally why does anyone take that at face value. If we’re taking her word as the authority on Mandalorian issues then I guess Boba and Jango aren’t Mandalorian!!! Seriously.

TLDR; Din’s covert (aka “Children of the Watch”) is made up of survivors of childhood abuse, torture, and brainwashing at the hands of Death Watch, and they’re dedicated to making sure their children don’t go through the same thing. They’re not a cult, but Death Watch sure was! Jaster Mereel is the love of my very aromantic life and Bo-Katan’s opinions can’t be trusted. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

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just curious, what’s your favorite and least favorite character design? my least fav for sure has got to be female byleth for reasons i don’t want to get in to yep ok have a good day 😁

IOops this accidentally became a rant, sorry

Okay so, to preface this all, I’m not a character designer and I’m actually pretty bad at it, but my rule of thumb with really unappealing or fan-service outfits is whether or not it makes sense character-wise and how much it tells the player about the character. For example, I think we can all agree that there’s quite a bit of fan-service elements in Hilda’s design. Boob window. However, it’s not unrealistic to imagine Hilda picking out those clothes for herself. Her costume tells you almost everything you need to know about her character on a visual level. She’s confident, pretty, attention-grabbing, and high maintenance while the gloves and laced girdle give a nod to her Viking-maiden roots.

Taking it to female Byleth, I don’t think that her outfit works on either front. Her design is definitely my least favorite and it’s not helped by the fact that you have to look at her at all times. Whatever. The huge, solid mass of boobs, the buttoned bib, the big eyes, the feather hair, the bellybutton, the ripped tights, the booty shorts. She’s a merc out in life and death situations with an accessible, pale, tacky 2000′s “stab me” stomach cut out and a wedgie. Which could be excusable if, like Hilda, there was reason to believe that that her costume was character choice. But she doesn’t really have much character, and what there is gives the impression of a very stoic, dry, blunt person. I have no idea why they’d have gone that route when the sexual appeal of more “utilitarian” costuming (aka, form fitting armor that at least pretends to be functional) for characters like her is scientifically proven AND would say more about the singular personality trait she possesses. Okay, well, I know why they didn’t do that and I think it’s lame. This dysfunction of “character designer wanted a sexy girl but it’s kinda random and just shoved in the game without any thought” actually reminds me a lot of Xenoblade 2′s leading ladies, Hikari and Pyra. Although considering that their bad designs led to a lot of people hating the game for superficial reasons while accepting female Byleth’s design, I guess I’m just bitter. Jumping to a different comparison, then, look at 2B from Nier Automata. Her design is fine as hell which is kinda hypocritical of me considering that it's explicitly fan-service, but I think it also shows the most damning thing for female Byleth. Her whole look, despite having a dozen different element thrown in, is boring. Maybe it’s the colors (dressing her in all black and white would have been really interesting considering the colors of the three lords are so heavily emphasized as a part of their characters) or maybe it’s just the way the desperate elements come together. But, like I said, I'm not even slightly knowledgeable about character design and I know that despite Three Houses being mostly separate, they had to appeal to a larger aesthetic brand to which I have little experience with. And, ultimately, a lot of people find her cute or sexy which...To each their own, I suppose. I don’t pretend that fan-service doesn’t work on me (2B... Cloud’s arms in the remake... Seph's shirtless Smash skin...) but when it’s this obviously inserted in by the character designers rather than feeling organic in any way AND looks bad I'm just not super interested.

The other worst designs for me would be all four of the Ashen Wolves post timeskip. I don't think it's controversial to say that they didn't try with the clothes, even if I love their designs from the neck up (Yes, even Balthus. He looks like the type of guy that would let you sit on his shoulders at a rock concert so you could see the stage). While there are other designs I think are unappealing, those are for purely aesthetic reasons and so I can't maintain the opinion that they're actively bad or that I even truly dislike them.

As for favorite looks... I actually have a few so sorry you're getting all of them because despite the shit I'm talking, I actually really really love the character designs in Three Houses.

Ferdinand's post timeskip is one of my favorite designs, if not my favorite. The hair, the coat, the armor, the spurs, the colors. You know exactly who Ferdinand von Aegir is just by looking at him. He’s wealthy, handsome, confident in his appearance, a hero, a princely type character, his battle form is mounted combat which is traditionally aesthetically reserved for nobility and leaders... I love it. The only reason I cannot say he IS my favorite is because of the three Lords. But before them, my honorable mentions include post timeskip Hilda, Dorothea, Lorenz, Felix, and Hubert. Granted, I could make a case for why I like almost all of the student’s post timeskip looks.

For the Lords, I obviously have to start with colors because, weirdly enough, Persona didn’t invent primary colors but are actually used as shorthand. Blue is the color of honor, loyalty, sincerity, sadness, and depression. Something I’ve always found very interesting is that blue is very rarely found in nature. To me, that’s always made it seem more lonely which, at least in this case, is thematically relevant. People call Dimitri boring pre timeskip and while I won’t defend his hairstyle (okay, actually, I probably would because he tucks it behind his ears and idk why but that’s one of the cutest things ever) I really like how unassuming he is. Bland. He’s supposed to be the plain shortbread cookie to caramel deLite Claude and strawberry meringue Edelgard. It is not in his character to draw attention to himself or stand out. To me, he kinda looks like an old Barbie prince, like he should have been named Dominic. Also I love the blue eyes/blonde hair thing and his more angular features. It really helps to sell him as the fakeout chivalrous prince type. Post timeskip, Dimitri's black armor is amazing. I love the fact that it’s a lot more intricate up-close with the different little shell-like pieces and the fact that his boots are furry. I love the big cape and the black and white fur around his shoulders. It’s really cool how they used his costume to change the shape of his in-game model to match the bodily proportions of the character art. It’s easier to see when you change his costume into the DLC ones, but the fur and cape build up his shoulders and chest look more broad while keeping that tiny little waist. The choice to give Dimitri an eyepatch is probably my favorite thing about this design. It’s genuinely inspired. Such a simple detail yet it tells the player everything they need to know about adult Dimitri when they see him post timeskip, in one frame the player can begin to understand the extent of his loss over the past five years. The subtle shadow under his eye in the first few Azure Moon chapters and the messy long-ish hair really help to sell the feral prince aesthetic as well, as it’s from those small cues the player gets that he’s exhausted (in more ways than one) and doesn’t maintain himself. None of these things are intentional choices by Dimtiri, they’re the result of what his character has been through.

Yellow is an intense, energetic color. Mostly, people think of it as being warm and inviting, the color of the sun and positivity. That intensity can be overwhelming, though, too visually demanding when compared to its primary counterparts. Don’t stare at the sun too long. Buuuut, it’s okay to stare at Claude. Claude not wanting to wear tight pants in either of his costumes is not only a mood, it is iconic. Pre timeskip, the softer lines of his silhouette makes him look kinda slouchy, kinda lazy. Like he’s not too concerned with appearances. But those adorably messy curls, the little braid, the clearly tended eyebrows, and earring make it clear that he DOES care about appearances and is very aware of his allure. And that’s before he even starts winking. It is honestly so in character that as many people picked him first on the basis of being thirsty, that feels like an intentionally Claude thing even if it was inserted by the designers. The contrast of his complexion with his seagreen eyes is gorgeous and instantly adds a kind of mystery and intrigue to him considering the setting... but it’s sf funny that nobody looked at bronze god Claude among a sea of white faces and thought something was up. Post timeskip, they used the same trick like they did with Dimitri to change Claude’s in-game model to match his canon appearance. The way they designed his uniform makes him not look as twink-ish, like he’s actually muscular and imposing and has the strength he’d need to shoot a war bow with a 120lbs draw weight. Also like Dimitri, you can instantly tell what Claude’s been up to. Like, he was very pretty pre timeskip but when he shows up in the Goddess Tower after those five years in all that gold, he demands your attention. Like a gentleman general with the excessive aesthetic ideals of the Alliance and details to imply his heritage. The quilted pants are amazing from both an aesthetic and practical standpoint. He’s a mounted unit riding a creature with scales, of course he’d want something on his legs for protection. And the chinstrap. I love that so much, it definitely makes him look more adult. He’s got such a cute soft baby face, it’s fun imagining him experimenting with different styles during the five years to get the most desired physical reaction to him as a leader.

Frenchfries, meet forehead. No, actually, Edelgard’s design is really fantastic. Claude and Dimitri both have realistically colored eyes and hair and then there’s Edelgard. Dimitri shrugs off attention physically and Claude shirks it with a wink but Edelgard commands the players attention from the very start. Although I’m sure there’s a lot of things to associate with white hair and purple eyes, my first thought was Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Otherworldly beautiful by with an edge. Red, of course, is The power color. Strong emotions, love and hate. Red is also associated strongly with blood, which is very important to Edelgard’s plot. Granted, I think the red and black association is even more powerful than JUST red and red is the cheapest play to make in regards to displaying villainy (I mean, there are some pretty universally recognized associations with red and black and it led to people making some unfair comparisons between Edelgard and a famous dictator) but I think it was effective and well used and I genuinely enjoy its use in her case. Anyway, if I had a major complaint about her design it would be the weird ashy color of her hair whereas Lysithea’s hair is pure white. Which doesn’t even matter with the AMAZING hair horns. Ram horns can actually symbolize quite a few things, but their association with power and strength is pretty universal I think. They’re also used in demonic imagery. I love that THIS was her alternative to a crown. Edelgard views herself as a force of war and power before she thinks of herself as royalty. She also mentions that she isn’t super vain, but she loves to do her hair, so the hair being the most elaborate part of her look is entirely in-character. Edelgard’s ensemble is, like Claude, very militaristic. I love that they kept her in a dress that embraces femininity without showing skin as that wouldn’t really suit her Also, again, Edelgard demands your attention. She’s dressed all in bright bright red waving around a giant axe. She is a symbol as much as she is a combatant, someone to follow. I didn’t really mention their secondary lord costumes, but a girl in sexy armor is literally everything and I love that they had the balls to put their main sexy waifu girl in full body armor.

Okay I’m sorry I realize this was excessive and probably didn’t need explaining and I’m not sure I even articulated my thoughts properly but anyway I love their designs so here is the positivity I’ll put into the world.

#fe3h #ferdinand von aegir #claude von riegan #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #haha i htae byleths design this was all just to justify my abject disgust for the way she looks #nobody sent me anything about dimitri's dick so this is what i've been reduced to

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mediocre--writing · 3 years

Text

Favorite Crime

S- I was your willing accomplice, honey

Bad news. Bad news, bad news, bad news.

Nobody had a single good word to his name, besides a praise for his party facade or his skills in bed.

But there's always a deeper story behind a headline, or that's what Nancy had always told him. That this unflattering headline covered a hurt, poor person who was, more than likely, being villainized for a story. That's what happened with Jonathan, right?

Bad guy has a shitty family life and it turns out he's not the villain at all, just different in a way people don't yet understand.

But how can someone so cruel and crude have a deeper story than just being a jackass?

Turns out, it's always more complicated than calculus homework Steve still doesn't understand.

A short word from Max itched a scratch inside Steve's head that had been bothering him since the first day. The way he sauntered, never just walked, nor did he ever cower, the way he always looked so fine, so perfect, so okay.

Just like Steve does, he guesses. The focus on his hair and his clothing and how he's perceived, it doesn't matter to him how he looks, he just wants people off his back.

So, it's not surprising that it was an uphill journey, more like a completely vertical wall standing between them, but they somehow made it to the top, made it together.

Somehow, despite the fights and denials, despite the reluctance and the running, it was rough, and it seemed like gravity was strongest at the top, trying to pull them down the closer they got together. They're standing at the top, this once unattainable point that seemed like the top of the world where the sun shined brightest on them and only them. Nobody else.

Except there's always someone else, isn't there?

It's not always someone falling in love with someone else or falling out of love with the one they were destined to be with, sometimes there's pressures you can't fight on your own, sometimes they're even too strong to fight with someone else. Sometimes you can't defeat your enemy like the knight slays the dragon. Sometimes you don't live happily ever after with the princess and she just stays locked in her tower until someone can actually save her.

B- Doe-eyed as you buried me

The eyes, the lashes, the soft glances in the hallway and the sweet smiles shared during practice. They all pile up over time, creating this deep, strong warmth that keeps your body warm. The warmth that you don't notice until you're separated from it for a second too long.

The fire ignited in a once ice cold heart that gives meaning and light to a corrupted soul begging for help.

Those big, brown eyes that were once referred to as "ugly cow eyes," a statement that Billy couldn't disagree with more. Because even if they were cow eyes, they were sweet, beautiful, innocent eyes that were so willing to love.

Eyes that opened his own, opened his eyes to a bright, new future he didn't even know existed before.

It was smothering, the feeling, which he hadn't felt in almost ten years now, one he didn't realize he'd forgotten what that love felt like, what being cared for felt like.

He fell into love like a poor, unexpecting animal would fall into a hunter's trap.

It was like he knew it was happening, he noticed he was falling and tried to grab onto the sides of the trap, try to claw his way out, but he inevitably fell to the bottom, laying on his back, but he noticed that this trap wasn't so bad. He could still feel the sunlight on his cheeks and there was someone there, laying next to him who offered great comfort as they waited for the predator to kill them both.

But it felt safer when there was dirt being put on top of him to keep the burning heart warm, it was like the predator wouldn't be able to spot them if they hid for long enough under this false hope, because they were still stuck in the bottom of the trap and they were only digging themselves deeper.

S- And now, every time a siren sounds, I wonder if you're around

Steve's favorite color was always purple. He liked the harshness of red and the calm of blue and purple always seemed to fit the blend. It was a strong color, something he'd associated with his best days and reminded him of this innocence he loved.

He doesn't love purple so much anymore.

The neon signs above shops and restaurants, composed of this beautiful red and dashing blue turned the dark mall into a bright purple.

The fireworks bouncing off the walls and their faces glowed in bright yellows and greens and blues and reds and purples.

And that purple hue covered everything that night. Not a single light was burning brighter than that purple color.

The red blood gushing down his chest wasn't beautiful and the sight of his dashing blue eyes closing was more horrifying than any sight he'd ever been forced to watch.

He hated purple. He hated the mix of blue and red and he hated the beautiful purple color that highlighted his face while he struggled to breathe, while he searched for Steve’s eyes and reached out for his hand before he just--stopped.

And the sirens, God, the sirens.

They were loud and blaring and the god damn red flashing lights were mixing with the blue lights from cop cars and Steve was so fucking sick of seeing those colors everywhere. So fucking sick of that loud blaring noise, but that also could have been a result of the concussion and blood loss he’d experienced within the past 48-ish hours.

And, he gets it, that sometimes people just don’t get lucky enough to make it.

But it’s been close to three months and every time a cop car or ambulance passes him, he just wants to sprint after it, like he wanted to that night, just to see him one more time before the inevitable ends it for good.

The inevitable, isn’t it always funny that you can stop it? Or--could have stopped it. There’s always a solution that could have prevented this “unpreventable” event, yet people pretend it isn’t so. That people die because it’s “meant to be” and not a tragic fate that no good person deserves.

The inevitable, isn’t so inevitable, turns out, on a day in November when Max admits a hidden truth.

And they meet again, but it feels the same. They missed each other unlike any person they hadn’t seen. They just sit for hours, barely talking but just holding hands, squished on this tiny hospital bed where a, supposedly dead, teenager and his boyfriend sit and silently cry.

And as they hear an ambulance pull up outside of the hospital, Steve doesn’t tense like he has been for the past months, he just squeezes Billy’s hand tighter and feels his breathing from where they’re touching.

B- But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

The camaro, the doctors warned him that he may not like driving it, some form of PTSD from the night and the accidents that had occured, but Billy felt more released from his problems as he drove the car than when he had to sit in a hospital room or talk with his step sister and the nerd herd about...well, anything.

And the sunrise, how beautiful sunrises were above treelines as you release your problems with a loud rev of an engine.

He’d done his morning like he always would, made coffee when he woke up, got dressed, poured an extra cup for Steve, kissed him on the forehead when he left it on the nightstand, then lounged around the living room for a while.

Except today was different.

Billy wasn’t getting up at 6am, he was getting up at 5.

And he didn’t get dressed and lounge around, he got dressed and loaded his favorite things into his car.

But he was making the cup of coffee for Steve to wake up to when he got up at 7, it just probably wouldn’t be as hot as it usually was.

There’s a new step, but just for this day. He rips off a piece of paper from the notepad that they left by the phone.

He rips off the corner, enough to fold in half so it sits upright on the nightstand.

He draws a sloppy heart, one Steve always said just looked like a fat ‘X’, and signs a little ‘B’ in his “fancy prince handwriting” as Steve always called it.

He set the paper next to the cup of coffee, pulled up the sheets on his side of the bed, pushed Steve’s messy bed head back and left a soft peck on his forehead, then one on the tip of his nose. Steve’s pink, chapped lips moved into a soft, dopey smile as Billy pulled the blankets over his chest more, it was starting to get cold with October approaching.

The camaro roared under him as he started it up and pulled out of the driveway, working his way West, all the way to California: somewhere where his abusive dad wasn’t around and neither was the pressure to hide himself.

He hid everything, his sexualities, a majority of his home problems, his mental issues, how he’d see things, things that weren’t there and never had been. He’d continue wearing himself thin trying to keep up this facade, it was like he’d pushed himself down so far he forgot what he was supposed to like, what he used to hate.

For the best. This was better because he didn’t feel like Billy, he felt like different versions of some other person who was acting the role of Billy. Felt like his personalities didn’t match from person to person, lost the cathartic feeling of exposing all his thoughts to Steve, it made him feel guilty.

And Steve didn’t deserve that. Never did.

Billy was never good for him. He split everything up. Split up his own parents' marriage, he was the cause of most of their fights, and he ruined any and every relationship he’d ever been in, even the ones with Max or other people his age that he could have been a real friend to.

He still thinks about Steve, often. Thinks about him with a fond smile but hates how he was around him. Hated that feeling of hiding who he really was any time he was with this person who was supposed to be the best thing for him.

Hated the way Steve made him feel the need to pull at the reins to stop but made him want to go faster, faster, faster.

Hated Steve. Hated the way he loved him, but he just couldn’t force himself to be that happy.

Well, I hope I was your favorite crime...'Cause baby, you were mine.

#lots of symbolism and stuff and lots of confusing spelling mistakes but im kinda proud of it #also it switches perspectives between the lyrics #stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mediocre—writing #mw harringrove #billy x steve

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celestial-coolatta · 3 years

Text

... Okay. I need a concrete answer on what non-human, cold skin colors are okay for Benrey designs. This is getting out of hand and at a certain point we need to come to a reasonable conclusion that doesn't hurt anyone. I've asked a lot of people at this point and most of them say nobody actually gives a shit but I still don't want to upset anyone so we NEED to find a better solution than just assuming we all know everything

Here's all I know on the subject. Please tell me if I'm getting any of this wrong.

Obviously, green is very, VERY bad. That's obvious. As far as I'm aware of, there is no logical reason why green would make any sense, either.

Doesn't work with the uniform's color palette, and I can't think of any lore reason why he'd spend the entire time off-camera coated in copper, anyway. Big Nope.

The main issue is, green is partially connected to a lot of well-known antisemitic propaganda and dog whistles, so, while it's not inherently bad for ALL characters (ie. would be fine for grass-y characters that are literally made of green things), linking this to a villain specifically known to be deceptive (specifically in regards to appearing human at first glance) is a much bigger problem.

Blue has issues re: antisemitism, too, although it's not as well-known. Not as prevalent as green; I know where the green skin caricature comes from, but I've been trying to find information on where blue came from, and the majority of people who actually study this sort of thing appear to agree that it doesn't actually have any historical root, it's just been linked by association as a generally unnatural color.

Matches the color palette of the uniform and is much less "bright" than green, so it blends in well with shadows.

Generally associated with Livor Mortis (which is, if you're HCing Benrey to be partially undead in any way, absolutely NOT something you can afford to gloss over like you could with other set-ups), freezing/morgues/general cold storage, and/or complete exsanguination.

Common trope for zombie/alien characters, but, again, has a lot of negative connotations.

Not inherently awful when used for things like elementals/ghosts, but still could be taken very, very wrong with the specific archetype Benrey fills.

Purple has no link with antisemitic caricatures, unlike green and possibly blue.

Works as a cleaner method of expressing Livor Mortis or exsanguination, because it's closer to the tone that many lighter skin colors turn when drained this way.

A little harder to mesh neatly with the rest of the color palette than blue, for obvious reasons, but has the bonus of looking much "warmer"/pink at a glance, so it makes more sense that someone might look at Benrey and not immediately get that it's not just a trick of the light.

Grey is... Neutral, in most ways? I've never heard of this being consistently used as an element of caricatures. I think it was used once in Mulan, but that's literally the only time I've seen it used to mark someone as an "other", and it wasn't exactly the most, uh, eye-catching element of that shitty design. To be completely honest, I've only really seen it used for stone/metal elementals, robots, and Homestuck characters. If anyone has sources that say otherwise, though, please tell me! I wasn't able to find anything when I looked it up, but I'm not that good with search terms.

Matches the color palette, but doesn't feel "cold" so much as it feels... Yeah, I think neutral might be the best word I've got. It's just... Nothing in particular. Definitely gets the corpse vibes across, but feels less undead and more regular dead. I'm sure some folks who are better at palettes could figure out a way to make it work, but I can't think of anything off the top of my head.

... He could prrrobably look human-ish at a glance like this, if the lights were low or whoever was looking at him just didn't pay attention to colors??? I could see this working under harsh florescent lights - y'know, the kind that bleaches things out? - but that's a pretty niche scenario.

That's all I've got at the moment. If anyone else is aware of connections I've missed, or specific cold color shades that have their own distinct complications, I'd appreciate the feedback.

... Side-note: I know it's fairly common to just ditch this side of the color wheel entirely and suggest yellow because it's easy to water down into something that looks good with the blue tones, but... No. I'm not doing that. We are not side-stepping one group of caricatures only to jump into another. I can't think of any good reason why someone would suggest red, but that should be an obvious no, too, for the same reason. Muted oranges and browns are just... Normal human colors, and clearly, that's not what we're searching for, either.

I am specifically asking for safe COLD COLORS. Idk how to be less subtle about that

#hlvrai #benrey #half life vr but the ai is self aware #character design #color theory #... does this count as color theory??? idk but we're rolling with it #also! for blacklist >>#discourse #i know some people would rather just stay out of it and stick to regular human colors #i'm not gonna blame anyone for ignoring or filtering out this post. no guilt tripping in this house

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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years

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hey there, so like this is my first time requesting but your writing is sooo good i can't help myself. if you could, could you make a scenario for dazai and chuuya where his s/o is a non-ability who is very bubbly and innocent but they find out she has a deadly skill that could almost pass as an ability. im sorry if you're busy, you dont have to write this if you dont want to. I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH💕💕

OH IM GONNA WRITE IT BECAUSE I THOUGHT OF THE FUNNIEST BUT ALSO CUTEST THING OH YEAH ITS GETTING WROTE

THANKS BOOBOO ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dazai

You were like an angel, too pure for this world. Your heart was filled with nothing but good. You donated to charity, helped out in elementary schools during the week and volunteered at children’s hospitals, homeless shelters, and animal shelters during the weekend.

He looked at you as if you were a saint. Whenever you would come home from volunteering he’d bow down at your feet. “My goddess has returned! I’m not worthy!” You’d laugh at his dramatics, grabbing his hand and helping him off the floor.

“Shush.” You’d say before pecking a kiss on his lips.

When you weren’t out helping in the community, you were at home doing what you could to help out without being there. You took up knitting, and Dazai joked about it often. He even went as far as to buy a rocking chair with extra cushion for you to sit in while you would work. “You’re the cutest grandma, you know that?” He’d say, and you’d throw your ball of yarn at him.

“Shut up, and bring me my yarn back.” He’d re-wind the yarn that came undone when you threw it as he walked the ball back to where you sat.

He poked fun at it, but he would often sit on the floor next to your rocking chair, becoming entrances as he watched your hands carefully wrap the yarn around the needle and thread it through the loops. He didn’t understand how you did it, but everything you made came out perfectly, especially the tiny hats for newborn babies with matching booties, and sweaters for dogs and cats in the shelters for when it got cold. You had even made blankets for the people at the homeless shelters, making sure to use the softest yarn that would also be warm.

Sometimes he would come with you to the hospitals or the homeless shelters when he wasn’t working. He never went to the animal shelter though, he didn’t want to be anywhere where dogs were.

When he would go to the hospitals with you he would spend hours making over the babies and how cute they were in the new hats and booties you had made for them.

“Y/N, is it illegal to take a baby from the hospital?” He would ask you on the way back home and you’d just stare at him.

“You’re a cop, I hope you’re joking.”

“Yeah, obviously I’m joking but... so it’s illegal?”

You were used to people not liking your boyfriend. He had helped bring a lot of people to justice in his line of work. You weren’t expecting people to hate you though. Dazai had worked hard to make sure that anyone from opposing agencies or enemies didn’t know that you and him were dating. In the beginning he was always worried and on edge that something bad may happen to you just for being associated with him, but it’s been a year and a half now and nobody had tried to hurt you or kill you.

That’s why you were less than serious when the door got kicked open and three men stormed in, all of them wielding knives. It had to be some kind of weird prank by Dazai, or maybe even some strange act that would set the stage for a new fantasy kink.

“I’m kind of busy right now, can you come back in an hour?” You said calmly, holding up the knitting needles to show them that you were occupied.

“We don’t give a damn. You’re coming with us.” One of the men said, you didn’t know what he looked like, all of them had black masks on.

“Eh, I don’t think I am.” You shrugged, not even looking up from the new sweater you were making.

They were getting angry, the three men stomped over to where you were sitting in the rocking chair. One of them held his knife to your throat, and you finally realized that they weren’t joking, and Dazai wasn’t in on it. “I think you are. That bumbling boyfriend of yours needs to know. Mess with us and we mess with him. Now let’s go.” He pressed the knife deeper and your fight or flight instinct kicked in. You wouldn’t be able to outrun the three of them, so you had to fight.

You gripped the needles tighter, bringing your arm up to jab it into the mans neck. He staggered back and fell to the floor against the wall, trying to pull the needle out.

“What the fuck!?” One of the other men shouted, as the third one started sprinting towards you. You quickly grabbed the knife that the first man had dropped, preparing yourself to stab the man before he could get to you. As soon as he got close enough you forcefully pushed the knife into the mans stomach. He screamed as you twisted it, making him drop to his knees, blood dripping out of his mouth from the damage you had caused.

The final man stood there, assessing the scene, his hands in the air. He had already dropped his knife.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Your voice was low, you were out of breath. You watched him run out your door, then took the time to finally realize what you had done. “Oh my god. Oh... oh my god....” You swallowed back the bile that was rising up your throat. You had killed two people, you had single handedly taken out two grown men. You were a murderer.

With sweaty hands and shaking fingers you dialed Dazai’s number, praying that he’d actually answer.

“Hey swee-“

“You need to come home, I need your help. Please hurry and come home.” Your voice was as shaky as your hands were.

“I’m coming.” His voice wasn’t as cheery as when he first picked up. Obviously his first thought was that you were being attacked or someone was trying to break in. He wasn’t expecting the grisly scene he walked into.

He examined both guys, confirming they were dead, and you couldn’t really understand why he was smiling the entire time he was making his mental report. You couldn’t see anything good about having two dead men in your apartment.

“You did this? Yourself?” He finally looked up to you while poking the knitting needle protruding from the mans neck.

“I was scared! I didn’t know what else to do! I didn’t mean it.” He watched you try to explain yourself. He tried to imagine what was going through the men’s brains when his adorable girlfriend, wearing a skirt with knee high socks and buckle shoes started fighting back, especially with knitting needles. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you laughing!?”

“You’re just so... sexy. You got a little blood on your shirt too.” He got up off the floor and surprised you by sweeping you off your feet as you tried to find the blood stain he was talking about. “Don’t worry, I’ll get that shirt off you soon.”

Chuuya

If he could describe you as a color, it would be yellow. You were bright, fun, happy, you always found a way to put a smile on his face, even when he had the worst day. It was as if a ray of sun took form and for some reason decided that he was the one who deserved it.

Your spontaneous adventures, even if it was just to the park always kept things exciting. He would stand back and watch as you ran over to anyone with a dog, sitting on the ground in front of the furry animal as you looked up and conversed with the owner about the breed and how cute the dog was. He would hear about it for the rest of the day, your hands moving freely through the air as you described the dog, even though he was right there and seen it as well, he would smile and nod. You always found something to be excited about, even on days when it would rain and you both were stuck in the house you would find some way to make him forget about the dreariness of the outside world. Building pillow forts and watching movies as you both attempted to toss popcorn into each others mouths. You had a stash of board games for days like that, and you would let him pick which one he wanted to play. It was the simple things that he enjoyed.

Waking up to the sound of music drifting into the bedroom from the kitchen, your spot on the bed empty. He would groggily walk into the kitchen to find you in front of the stove, the smell of eggs and bacon and pancakes filled the room, but that wasn’t the best part. You would be wearing one of his button up shirts, and only that. Your hips would sway to the rhythm of the song and he’d just stand and watch, unable to fight the smile that would form on his lips and the feeling of pride as he watched you, knowing that you were his.

Other days he’d come home from work while you were straightening up, singing into the broomstick handle as if no one was watching and the living room was your stage. He’d shrug out of his coat, kick his shoes off and slide across the floor while playing the air guitar. You always put a smile on his face, everything you did was his favorite thing. He could never pick one particular thing that you did that made him happy, because honestly you in general made him happy.

Even when you weren’t being goofy, which was rare, but it did happen, he would take the time to sit back and appreciate your beauty. When you would curl up on the couch and drift off to sleep and he’d come home and find you there, he would just marvel at how perfect you were in that innocent state.

That’s why he did everything he could to keep you safe, make sure you were protected everywhere you went. Sure, it was kind of ridiculous to have the black lizards guarding every store you went into, but it was a precaution that needed to be taken. As long as his little drop of sun was safe he could relax.

The two of you were on your way to the restaurant, it was date night. You looked flawless, as usual, and Chuuya couldn’t wait to show you off. His phone started ringing and you picked it up for him so that he could keep one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh as he drove.

“Hi Mori!” You greeted him excitedly, and although he didn’t understand how Chuuya ended up with you, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice. You seemed to have that effect on anyone you came into contact with. “Will do! Thanks Mori! Buh-bye.” You shut the phone and put it back into the center console. Chuuya looked over to you, his eyes asking the question. “There’s some problem in an alley around the corner. He said it should be quick and you can handle it and get back to our date.”

He groaned but took the sharp turn that would lead to the alley in question. He saw the cloaked figure, like they were waiting for him. “Alright, this’ll be quick. Stay in the car.” He said, kissing your cheek before hopping out of the car.

You stared out the window, watching him stride into the alley. It sent a shot of electric up your legs, seeing him so dominant in situations like this. That was your man, and you couldn’t be prouder. You smiled as you watched him deliver kicks and punches to the figure in the alley, silently rooting for him.

Then you saw more figures coming from nowhere it seemed. There were at least six of them, and you started worrying. He would get hurt if he tried to fight all of them by himself, and you couldn’t have that. It would take too long to call someone and have them come out and help. Your mind raced as you tried to think of something to do, then you remembered the pistol that he had in the glove box. You pulled it out, checking to see if it had ammo, and then hopped out of the car.

“Hey, assholes!” You called, and everyone stopped to look at you. You cocked the gun and aimed it at them. Your hands didn’t shake, and you eyed up your target and pulled the trigger. Headshot.

The figures split up, some advancing towards you while the rest went after Chuuya. You fired the gun quickly, they all dropped like flies. Each one being hit exactly where you aimed. Headshots, chest shots, you even managed to get one in the throat which even you were shocked about. You moved further into the alley, pressing the barrel of the pistol against the head of the one who was about to attack Chuuya while he was fighting the first figure. “Not today, pal.” You said menacingly, pulling the trigger. Blood and bits of flesh and brain tissue splattered onto your face and you dropped the gun to the ground.

Chuuya finished with the final figure and ran over to where you stood. You were frozen, the warmth of the blood against your face made you want to vomit. “Are you okay?” He asked, grabbing your arms and examining them, then moving to the rest of your body to make sure there was no damage done. The amount of blood on you worried him, but once he realized that you were okay, he sighed with relief.

“I need a shower and and and and.... oh my god this is gross.” You couldn’t keep your hands from shaking as you tried to wipe the blood off your face.

“I mean, it’s pretty gross, but god damn, my bad ass little princess. Who would have thought?” His sense of pride sky rocketed.

After you both returned to the penthouse, the date was completely forgotten about at this point, and you both showered together. He rubbed your shoulders as the water fell over both of your bodies. The water was stained with red as you washed the blood from your face and when the shower was over you wrapped the towel around yourself and laid in the bed.

“You took the gun and you were like ‘bang bang bang’ and I was like ‘oh my god!’ And you shot all of them! How did you learn to do that?!” He was pacing the room in his boxers as he described the whole situation again, his feet padded against the floor leaving water footprints on the hard wood.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to get hurt, so I shot them.” You said it nonchalantly, rolling to your side and propping yourself up on your elbow. “Seems like you enjoyed it.” You joked and he whipped around to look at you. The look in his eyes, you knew the look well.

“Oh I enjoyed. I don’t think you know how much I enjoyed it.” His voice was low and husky.

“You can tell me.”

He got into the bed and situated himself over top of you, holding himself up with one arm while the other pulled open the towel that you had wrapped around yourself. “I think I’d rather show you.”

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd request #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #bsd scenarios #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya imagines #chuuya scenarios #chuuya headcanons #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai scenarios #dazai imagines #dazai headcanons

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straylightdream · 4 years

Text

part one: the protector

featuring: Mob Boss Kim Junmyeon x reader, Bodyguard Oh Sehun x reader

Cold, wicked and ruthless we’re all words that people used to describe Junmyeon, but when it came to her he made an oath to protect her. Sehun was assigned to watch over her, he never expected for her to break down his walls.

warnings: angst, mentions of violence, injuries, death, blood, ptsd, future chapters will contain sexual conteny.

word count: 10.4k

AN: this wasn’t intended to also be a Sehun story but it just happened. This is either going to be three or four chapters but each chapter will be very long.

moodboard & playlist >> next

series masterlist

Cold, wicked and ruthless we’re all the words that were used to describe the man that sat across from you. The dark mahogany table separated the two of you. His warm eyes were locked on the files in front of him. Your shaking hand gripped the yellow coffee cup that was on the table in front of you. Slowly your eyes drift down to the caramel colored liquid that Yixing had poured you. The room was dark except for the hazy warm yellow light that shined from the chandelier hanging above.

The voice of Chanyeol catches your attention. He walks over to Junmyeon and says something low enough that you aren’t able to make out a single word. Your eyes stay focused on Junmyeon as you watch him slowly look up at you. He once again has the same frown he always wears as he looks at you. You can’t remember the last time he even smiled at you.

You moved into Junmyeon's house two months ago when a drive-by took out your brother and left you shot and bleeding out. Your brother worked as one of Junmyeon's right hand men. Kim Junmyeon is the mob boss of one of the largest mobs in Korea EXO. He’s known as Suho by his enemies.

You lost your mother at a very young age to cancer and your father left five years ago for the states. You’re older brother Sung-Ho was all that you really had in this world. He took care of you and did everything in his power to keep you safe. He did everything he possibly could to shield you from the dark world he associated with. Even though he tried to keep his dark secrets from you, you knew all about his gang and their leader Junmyeon.

Your brother joined the gang while your father was still around. He was still a teen when he sold his soul to the devil and gave his fully undying loyalty to Junmyeon. Sung-Ho was the only reason your family could even afford food sometime, your father was never the best at keeping a steady job while attempting to raise two teens on the verge of adulthood. Even though you wanted nothing to do with the EXO mob and their blood stained money, you were well aware that the only reason you didn’t starve too many times to count was because of that blood stained money.

Four years ago you remember waking up to the sound of a loud banging in your apartment at three in the morning. Walking to the edge of the hallway you found your brother answering the door with a gun in hand. Hiding in the hallway hoping nobody saw you as you listened as Chanyeol, Minseok and their leader Junmyeon entered your apartment. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of Minseok blood stained white shirt. Your presence was quickly spotted by Junmyeon. He stared at you silently for a moment before he asked you to come near. Sitting on the couch you listened as Junmyeon told your brother about the murder of one of his men and the attempted killing of another one Sehun who was shot. Your heart raced as Junmyeon dropped down to his knee in front of the couch holding out a cream business card that had a gold foil border around it. Your hands violently shook as you took the card. There was just something about Junmyeon that made you nervous. He had even when he was a teenager. Now the thought of all the power he held terrified you. He went on to inform you if anything ever happens to your brother or you, you are to call that number before police. Silently you nodded your head feeling sick to your stomach. From that moment that business card found a permanent place in your wallet and put the number in your phone on your favorites list under “back up”.

Three and half years late you’re sitting on the wet concrete with your back pushed up against the car you were attempting to get into. Your hand grips your arm that most likely still has a bullet lodged into it. Your body violently shakes from a mixture of the cold air and the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Tears pour down your wet cheeks as you look at your brother who is lying lifeless on the wet asphalt in front of you in a pool of his own blood. This was never how things were supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to lose your brother the only person in your life like this. He wasn’t supposed to be ripped out of your hands in front of you.

Your ears are still ringing from the sound of constant gunshots. Your head is pound from the impact against the black Mercedes you're leaning against.

Releasing your arm you gasp in pain. Reach into your purse you frantically search for your phone. Pulling out you quickly click the emergency number saved in your phone.

As you sob on holding on to your phone shaking from pain and fear. The phone rings twice before you hear someone say hello. Unsure of who you’re talking to, you go on to tell them Sung-Ho as been killed and that you were shot.

Five minutes after hanging up the phone Chanyeol arrives with a few men you have met before. One being Yixing who you knew had medical training. Another one being Jongin, and Sehun. There are about five other men with them you’ve never seen before.

They find you pressed up against the car bloody and shaking holding on to your arm tightly. You can’t help but sob staring at your brother knowing this is the last time you’ll ever see him again.

Chanyeol drops down crouching in front of you. Ever so gently he reaches out pushing your wet hair behind your ear. He has a grief stricken look on his face as he softly apologizes. Looking past him you see Yixing and Sehun kneeling by your brother. Jongin paces near his body clearly upset.

Chanyeol is asking you questions about the people that did this, but you aren’t able to give him much of a response. Your brain feels like it’s filled with goo unable to properly form words. The bloody scene played out so quickly your brain wasn’t able to fully process faces of any of the details.

Yixing joined Chanyeol examining your injury. He went on to ask a spew of questions about your injuries. Without meaning to you once again started sobbing thinking of the pain of the bullet piercing your skin. Closing your eyes, the image of your brother's blood splattering plays a horrific mental picture.

You had fully expected them to take you to the hospital but you’re shocked when you leave with just Yixing and Chanyeol. Chanyeol's large frame carried your frail body as if you weighed nothing. He carries you bridal style to the car they arrived in. They take you to a strange mansion you had never seen before.

That night Yixing numbed you and removed the bullet and stitched you up. Laying on the bed in the medical room you feel numb as you stare at the metal cart that holds all the medical supplies used to fix you and stitch you up. You feel lost in a sea of useless thoughts filled with blood. Your head is pounding from Sung-Ho pushing you into the car in attempts to save you from the gunshots. He died protecting you. You wouldn’t still be breathing if your brother hadn’t shoved you away. The dark thought of what would've happened if you were killed and not him crossed your mind. You weren’t sure Sung-Ho could process losing you. He always told you that he was put on this planet to protect you.

The door creaks as it slowly opens. Your eyes drift up to see Junmyeon entering the room dressed in a suit with an unreadable expression playing across his face. His hair is pushed back and you can’t help but think about how he looks like he’s dressed for a funeral. He pulled up a chair sitting next to the bed. Silently he stares at you for what felt like an eternity. Your eyes are growing heavy the longer you stare at him. If he doesn’t speak soon you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to stay awake long enough to talk to him.

“You’re moving in here,” his voice finally breaks the silence.

Your eyes flutter open looking up at him. You aren’t sure if it’s your possible concussion, but you’re unsure if you heard him properly.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“I told your brother that I would protect you if anything ever happened to him. So it is now my duty to watch over you,” he runs his fingers through his dark hair and lets out a heavy sigh. The weight of the world seems like it’s on his shoulders. You assume being a very powerful mob boss was probably extremely stressful.

Your brother met Junmyeon when he was a teenager. They had attended the same school. They grew up together and you knew they were like brothers. You weren’t the only one who lost a brother that night. Junmyeon and his men lost someone who was like a brother to them.

Even though you were unsure about living with Junmyeon you had no desire to argue with him. You knew that if you left someone was going to kill you. They took out your brother and would have no problem killing you. Your life didn’t really exist without your brother either. You’ve never been a sociable person. You lived your life focusing on school attempting to make a better life for yourself. At the moment school didn’t even seem to matter to you anymore. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. The death of your brother would change your life forever. You could no longer pretend the dark underbelly of the city didn’t exist. You were pulled head first in wine colored sea. Luckily Junmyeon was there to offer you a lifeboat to save you from the monster that swam in the sea.

Since that night you hadn’t left Junmyeon’s compound. The outside world left you terrified after that night. At least you knew when you were at the compound you were safe. Junmyeon constantly has somebody watching over you. Since moving in you were never fully alone. You knew the thought should bother you that the only time you get any amount of privacy is when you’re in the bathroom or you’re sleeping, but you know when when you’re sleeping you’re not actually alone. The boys stand guard watching over you. You felt like whoever killed your brother fully planned to finish you off. You knew you weren’t supposed to live that night. You were now nothing more than a loose end.

A gentle hand rested on your shoulder catching you off guard. Looking up you find Sehun standing over you. He’s the youngest of the group and the same age as you. There is something about him that has a calming effect on you. It might be his soft eyes or his gentle smile he gives you. You know that even though he’s gentle with you Sehun is a killer. You’ve heard Jongin mention that he’s the best shot in the group that he’s an assassin. Thinking about all the lives that he’s probably taken makes you uneasy. You try your hardest to forget about the fact that the men that take care of you are nothing but killers. You try to see them as nothing more than protectors. The few times you and your brother had candid talks about the gang, were when you told him that his hands were forever stained with blood. He would then tell you, “the people that die aren’t innocent people. They die because they were killers first.” In his mind and the mind of the men who work for Junmyeon they weren’t the bad guys. The lines between good and bad were starting to blur and you didn’t know who was who anymore.

“I have to leave on business for three day,” Junmyeon says, speaking up for the first time since sitting down at the table.

Since your brother's passing he hadn’t left on a trip once. He left the compound almost every day to go to his office, but he never actually left over night. The feeling of him being gone terrified you.

He must see the look of fear taking over you. “You’ll be fine. Sehun will be your personal bodyguard from here on out. He’s moving into the room next to yours and he’ll be by you at all times, and Jongin, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo will be watching over you as well. From the circle I’m only taking Chanyeol, Yixing, Minseok, and Baekhyun.”

The circle as he refers to his men are his eight main men. The most trusted people that work for him. The circle used to consist of nine until you lost your brother. From the moment your brother was killed the rest of the inner circle moved into the compound as well. A few of them such as Jongdae and Yixing had their own apartments, but since it was clear somebody was targeting members of Junmyeon tight knit circle he wanted everyone at the compound at all times. Before all of this Chanyeol who is his main guard and his right hand man Minseok already lived at the compound with him.

The man whose hand is still resting on your shoulder was probably the most protective of you other than Chanyeol. Sehun would never let anything happen to you. You felt safe knowing that he assigned Sehun to look after you.

“Okay,” your voice is meek as you finally speak.

“You’ll be fine,” Sehan finally speaks as he runs his thumb across your shoulder.

Moments later the rest of the inner circle has joined you in the dining around. Sehun hasn’t moved from his spot standing over you. Jongin comes over and sits at the table near you and the rest the boys stand throughout the room.

You listen as Junmyeon is telling the men about his plan. You can’t seem to focus much after he tells the men that will be staying behind with you. Your hand tremors as you lift the yellow mug up to your lips.

“May I be excused?” You ask like a child asking to leave the dinner table. You can’t sit here and listen to their plan about whatever Junmyeon must leave for. He gives you a small nod as you stand up.

Walking up the stairs you feel weak. Reach the top you walk down the hallway that is littered with expensive artwork, dragging your hand across the bright white walls, steadying your wobbly frame. Since the night of the accident your body hasn’t ever felt right. Something inside of you just feels as if your body is never fully balanced. You always feel slightly off kilter. You feel as if you never fully recovered from your concussion. The sound of footsteps behind you informs you that Sehun is right behind you. You know from here on out he’ll always be right behind you. Stopping you take a breath waiting for him to catch up to you. Closing your eyes you wait for him for his calming touch. Nothing seems to comfort you like his warm touch.

His hand gently touches your shoulder and you look up at him. You want to say something to him but your mind can not seem to make any words as you stare at him aimlessly. You constantly feel like you’re living in a dazed state.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he stares at you seeming completely confused.

“I don’t know,” your voice shakes as your eyes bounce around everywhere other than his eyes.

“I need to lay down.”

Removing his hand from your shoulder he follows you down the hallway towards your room. Opening your bedroom door you hold it open hoping he follows you inside.

Your bedroom is dark with navy curtains pulled blocking the light from entering your room. Your bed is pushed against the wall to the left of the window. Your room Junmyeon has set up for you beautiful and in any other circumstance you would love this room. You wished more than anything that this room would feel like home. That it could fill the hole in your chest, but unfortunately it doesn’t. It just feels like a foreign room to you.

Walking over sitting on the edge of your bed you look over at Sehun who is still standing by your door. This is the first time today you’ve actually focused on the man who is supposed to be your bodyguard. He’s wear a dress pants an white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Your eyes can’t help but focus on the gun tucked into his waistband.

“Sorry I took you away from the meeting,” you finally speak up.

“It’s fine. Kyungsoo will update me later. You’re my only concern now.”

“Okay.”

“Are you gonna take a nap?” he hasn’t moved from where he’s standing.

Gently you nod your head.

“Okay I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he says before stepping out of the room.

From the moment your brother passed away you haven’t been able to have a full night sleep without a nightmare. The image of your brother's lifeless body seems to be a repeat nightmare that haunts you in your sleep. Cold sweats take over your body waking you as a blood curdling scream passes your lips.

Sitting up you’re breathing heavy as Sehun rushes into your room shirtless holding his gun.

“What happened?” He asks, walking toward you in seconds.

“It’s just a nightmare,” you’re breathing heavy as you’re attempting to calm down.

He puts his gun into the waistband pajama pants and stands at the foot of your bed staring at you with a worried look on his face. You can’t help when your eyes roam his golden skin of tone abs. You hadn’t ever seen him shirtless and you can’t help but stare.

“Chanyeol told me you’ve been having nightmares,” his voice is raspy and you can tell that your scream woke him up.

You close your eyes, sighing. Chanyeol found you screaming in the middle of the night on your first full night at the compound. He rubbed your back gently as you sobbed, reliving your brother's death. Chanyeol’s a gentle giant when it comes to you. He had been before your brother's death and even more now.

“They’re not always this bad,” you say, not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Have you talked to anyone about them?”

Shaking your head you don’t even know who you could talk to. You highly doubt Junmyeon would have someone take you to a therapist, but maybe if you asked he would. From the moment you moved in he went out of his way attempting to make everything as comfortable as possible for you.

“If you need to talk I can listen, or one of the guys. Kyungsoo is a really good listener,” he looks so innocent standing there. The only thing that wasn’t innocent was his beautiful abs and the gun tucked into his waistband.

“I’ll be okay. I’m sorry for waking you,” you pull the covers into your chest.

“Okay I’m in my room right next door if you need me,” he says bowing his head slightly.

The following morning Junmyeon returned from his trip. You’re sitting at the large mahogany table with omelette in front of you that Kyungsoo had made for you. Your eyes seem to only be able to focus on the glass of orange that Jongin had placed in front of you before walking off to the kitchen.

Footsteps capture your attention and the found of Chanyeol voice echoing through the halls. Junmyeon walks into the dining area looking more stressed than when he left. He sits down across from you and lets out a heavy sigh. Chanyeol stands behind him as Baekhyun walks off into the kitchen. Silently your eyes study the man sitting across from him. He seems more worried than normal. Looking over at Sehun who is sitting next to you, his eyes are locked on his boss.

“Sehun later I’m gonna have Baekhyun watch after YN and I need to have a meeting with you and the rest of the circle,” his voice is firm and commanding.

You know that Junmyeon never talks about business around you, but the fact that he’s assigning Baekhyun to watch over you so Sehun can attend a meeting leaves you nervous that something is wrong.

“Yes sir,” Sehun nods his head.

Junmyeon doesn’t say a word to you as you finish your breakfast. He seems so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even realize you’re there. Whatever he wants to talk to Sehun about must be important because the moment you stand up to leave the dining area he asks him to stay behind. In one swift movement Baekhyun walks across the dining room, stopping right in front of you. Your eyes automatically check to see if he’s carrying his gun like Sehun always did. Shaking your head you turn on your heels walking away from whatever meeting they need to have.

Walking out of the dining room you head towards the foyer Baekhyun is about two feet behind you. You have nothing against Baekhyun, he's a kind man with a bright personality, but he doesn’t give you the same comfort as Sehun does.

Stopping at the stairs that lead towards Junmyeon’s office and library Baekhyun who is pushing his fingers through his hair stops next to you.

“Is it about me?” you ask knowing that Baekhyun most likely won’t tell you anything.

“Not just you.”

A wave of fear washes over you as you stare at him. You thought he might lie to you and say no or just plain and simple tell you he can’t speak on the matter.

“Can we go to the library?”

He nods and gestures his hand towards the library. You take the dark hardwood stairs that lead you up to where the library is. It’s an area you rarely go to even though the library is probably your favorite location in the compound. You’ve only ever been in Junmyeon office once, and you only went to the library on rare occasions to distract yourself.

The library is a calming location for you. The dark mahogany bookshelves that go floor to ceiling and the large window let’s in the warm sun from outside. Under the window sits a large leather couch that Chanyeol has informed you was a custom made for Junmyeon. According to him the couch cost more than some of his luxury cars that were in the underground garage. Covering the dark wood floor is a beautiful rug that you assumed was from Paris. Walking over to the wall that’s filled with thousands of books you go to the little side section that is filled with books that you moved that you were fond of reading. There’s a mix of Shakespeare, poetry books, and few love stories. Pulling out a poetry book you look over Baekhyun who is sitting in a leather chair near the door. His eyes are focused on you as you open the book. Your eyes glide across the beautiful words of a man declaring his love to women that doesn’t return his feelings. You scroll across the word as you walk over to the expensive leather couch. The first time Chanyeol tells you all about the overpriced couch you refused to sit on it. Telling him it costs more than your life. He went on to tell you Junmyeon would much rather have you sit on it and enjoy his collection of books then let it sit there collecting dust.

Holding the book against your chest you look out the window seeing the flowers bloom on the distant cherry blossom trees. The warm sun beaming through the window feels nice against your skin. Your hand slowly reaches out resting on the window. You don’t remember the last time you were outside. It’s been so long, but that’s your own doing. By no means is Junmyeon holding you hostage you have your own free will. He’s informed you’re allowed to go out but you’ll need guards. The world outside that window scares you. You might miss the feeling of the warm sun on your skin, the smell of the flowers blooming, and the gentle breeze in your hair.

You can feel Baekhyun eyes burning into you as you stare out the window like a crazy person. Looking at him you find him quickly averting his eyes. You wonder what all of the men think about you. You have some sort of a friendship with each of them. You’re by far the closest to Chanyeol and then Sehun, even though the latter doesn’t really say much to you. You talk to the other every so often but they don’t know much about you. They probably find it strange you’re normally locked in your room all the time with your curtains closed.

Your eyes are locked on Baekhyun until the library door opens. You’re surprised when you see Junmyeon walking in with Sehun following right behind him. He sends Baekhyun off and tells Sehun to wait outside.

Sitting the book down on the couch next to you, you watch as Junmyeon puts his hands in his pockets as he stares down at you with an unreadable look. You learned very quickly that Junmyeon has mastered the art of hiding his emotions. You can never tell what he’s actually thinking.

“You’re having nightmares?” he speaks up breaking the silence that fills the library?

Slowly you nod your head. You know Sehun told him. He was genuinely concerned when you woke him up screaming in the middle of the night.

“Did you want to talk to someone?” he stands locked in once place in front of you. A soft expression is across his face as he looks at you.

“I don’t want to go out there,” you assume he realizes by now the outside world scares you. You haven’t ever asked to even walk out into the yard.

“I can’t send the whole inner circle with you, if you would like to talk to someone,” in the whole time you’ve been here you’ve never seen him send the whole inner circle off leaving him with his lower level men.

Shaking your head you know that even being surrounded by those eight men you would still feel terrified.

“I can have someone come here. You can talk to them here if you would like?”

You shake your head once again.

“Did you want to talk to me about it?” this is the most he had talked to you in weeks. You knew that Junmyeon cared about you to some extent, but you weren’t sure if that was because he felt guilty for what happened to your brother.

“Can I sit?” his eyes move to the spot on the leather couch next to you.

Silently you nod.

He looks at you with that same soft expression. “I want to help you. I brought you here because I promised your brother long ago that I would protect you no matter what. I don’t want to just protect you, I want to help you. I want to take care of you. So please let me know how I can help.”

Your heart races at his statement. Junmyeon has never once been cruel to you or mean, but he often was distant. That might have to do with the fact he has so much business he must attend to. The fact that he’s telling you that he made an oath your late brother is overwhelmingly you. You knew that he planned on protecting you, that is why Sehun now follows everywhere you go except the bathroom. It’s also the reason you now live in this large compound with Junmyeon and eight other men who always have a watchful eye on you.

“When I close my eyes I see Sung-Ho lying on the asphalt,” you finally speak up. Just the mention of your brother's lifeless body makes your throat feel like it’s constricting. “I wake up screaming because I watched the bullet enter his body that took him away from me,” your eyes brim with tears. “I wasn’t supposed to ever lose him. Sung-Ho was my best friend. He was the only person I truly had in the world,” a sob breaks in your chest as tears start to slide down your cheeks. Junmyeon is staring at you with sorrow filled eyes. “My father didn’t care about my brother or I. We’ve been nothing but a burden in his life. He didn’t even come home for his son's burial. He hasn’t even reached out to ask what I was going to do, or how I’m handling everything,” your chest tightens as you finally confess all the heartbreak that has been eating away at you. “I just want the nightmares to go away, and even if I talk to someone about them. They aren’t going to go away,”

Closing your eyes you try your hardest to stop the tears that keep falling. The feeling of his warm skin on your cheek catches you off guard. Opening your eyes, you stare at him as a calloused hand rests on your tear stained cheek ever so gently. He’s touching you as if you’re made of glass that if he’s not careful you’ll shatter into a million pieces. His thumb gently brushes away a tear as it falls down your cheek.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep your brother safe. I didn’t know someone was stupid enough to go after the inner circle,” he sounds like his guilt ridden. That your brother's death is weighing down on him.

“It’s not your fault,” you aren’t exactly sure if you mean it, but you say it anyway because you don’t want him to think it is. Anyway you look at it, Sung-Ho’s death happened because he was a part of the EXO Gang. His death wasn’t an accident by any means. He was murdered because of his job.

He takes a deep breath. His hand is still gently resting on your cheek. His hand doesn’t feel foreign, you feel safe in his touch.

“Why did you talk to Sehun?” you ask, needing to know.

Slowly he removes his hand from you and you suddenly feel cold missing his touch. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. You’ve seen him do this before when he’s frustrated reading a document at the table. You don’t expect him to tell you anything, he never actually does.

“I found out who killed your brother,” his voice drops an octave.

The bile climbs up your throat as it takes everything in you not spill the contents of your breakfast on the beautiful rug that is on the floor in front of you.

Your voice shakes as you ask, “who did it?”

The tears slide down your cheek once again knowing that Junmyeon is going to inform you about who took your brother's life.

“Are you sure you want to know. I won’t tell you if you’re not ready?”

“I need to know,” you know you weren’t ready for this information, but you can’t go another day not knowing.

“The Choi family is trying to make moves on my territory. Low level men of theirs ambushed you and your brother. They won’t come for you, but to be safe Sehun is still your personal bodyguard. I don’t trust anyone more than Sehun to keep you safe,” he looks at you with a serious look across his face. He’s gone from the gentle Junmyeon who was wiping away your tears to Suho as they call him. Suho is the fearless leader of EXO. Anyone who works for him outside the inner circle refers to him by that name. Him coming off as Suho to you doesn’t mean he’s being cold toward you, but he’s being serious about your safety coming first.

He looks away from you and stares at the rug below his feet. Without thinking you reach out resting your hand on his arm. You never really touched the man in front of you, but in this intense moment you’re sharing you wish more than anything you could hug him. The feeling of you touching him catches his attention. He looks at you with a serious look on his face. Like he’s trying his hardest to hold it together.

“Is the man still alive that killed my brother?” The words stumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“No,” the simple single word hits you like a tidal wave. The relief that washes over you makes you feel sick that you’re okay with a man dying.

“Baekhyun handled it.”

The man who had been sitting in the library with you not long ago avenged your brother but didn’t even say anything. He acted as if it was just another day on the job.

“The Choi family is moving into my territory, but I want you to know that you will not get hurt. They won’t come near this compound. I will also be leaving at least four of the inner circle with you at all times along with other men guarding the compound,” you realize that his meeting with Sehun was him telling your guard that your brother’s murder was dead, and that Junmyeon already had a plan to keep you safe.

“What about you. Aren’t they meant to keep you safe?” You feared greatly about the man sitting next to you safety. It was clear he was going to do everything in his power to keep you safe, but you prayed that wasn’t going to weaken his defense.

“Don’t worry about my safety,” he reaches down and rests his hand on his gun that’s tucked into his waistband.

“I can’t help but worry.”

“I’ll always have Chanyeol, Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing with me. All of those men can keep me safe just fine. Whenever I leave you’ll have Sehun, Jongin, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo with you. I’ll have Baekhyun with me because he is the second best shot behind Sehun. You have enough to worry about I don’t need you to worry about me,” a little smile tugs at his lips.

“I can’t help it,” you sigh, pulling your hand away from his arm.

“If you ever need to talk about your nightmares I can listen. Just tell Sehun you need to talk or wave down Chanyeol,” he reaches over once again resting his hand on your cheek and pushing away the tears that are drying on your skin.

“Okay,” you whisper as he pulls his hand away from your skin.

“I’m sorry to leave but I need to take a call.

He stands and walks out of the library. The door remains open and Sehun slowly walks inside. You realize right now this is the most casual you’ve seen him dressed. He’s in a sweater with a pair of jeans, and boots. You’re so used to him being in business attire. He stands in the doorway watching as you walk across the room to put the book back.

You lead the way walking out of the library. Sehun is right behind you the whole way. Heading off into the kitchen. Stopping at the large marble island you look at Sehun who is standing there watching you. He’s not a man of many words but there is something about him that is just so comforting to you. Reaching into the cupboard you pull out that familiar yellow mug you normally have your coffee in. You aren’t sure where it came from or who it belongs to, but you’ve claimed it as your own. Grabbing the kettle off the stove you fill it with water and set it down. Lighting the stove you hear Sehun step closer to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You nod your head without even fully thinking. You weren’t okay, but you couldn’t let him know that. He has enough to worry about. He doesn’t need to worry about you.

“I’m sorry I ruined your life,” you say, not even looking at him as you pull two tea bags from the cupboard.

“What do you mean?” he responds, sounding confused.

“I’m assuming prior to me moving in you had a social life of some sorts and maybe a partner. I’m sorry if becoming my full time babysitter ruined that for you,” you know he didn’t ask for this job. He got assigned to you because everyone knew he was the best shot of the group.

“I don’t really have a social life outside of the events I attend with Junmyeon. I’ve been a part of this group since I was sixteen. This has been my life for as long as I can remember. I also don’t have a girlfriend to worry about,” he says raising his eyebrow.

“Oh,” you say softly.

You weren’t even sure what the point of your original statement was. After your conversation with Junmyeon you’re left feeling emotionally unsure of everything.

“I’m sorry I told him about your nightmare,” he places his hand on the marble counter top near your hand.

“If you didn’t tell him Chanyeol eventually would. I have no reason to hide them from him. He only wants to help.”

The pressure releasing from the kettle screams. Turning you reach over removing the kettle from the stove. Pouring yourself a cup you feel Sehun's eyes burning into you. Looking up at him you ask him if he would like a cup. He shakes his head and continues to stare at you. Aimlessly you make your cup of tea attempting to distract your mind of the millions of thoughts that seem to plague your mind.

“Did he tell you about what happened?” He sounds so unsure as he asks you.

You nod unsure if you can actually speak.

“I told him I wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear that. You’re already going through a lot,” his low voice is soothing.

“I needed to know,” you blow on your tea before taking a sip of the scalding liquid. “Does it make me a terrible person that I think I can sleep better knowing the man that killed my brother is dead?” You felt sick to your stomach admitting you were happy that a man lost his life.

“No not at all.”

“I’m terrified they’re gonna come for me. I’m nothing more than a loose end to the Choi family,” a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of that ruthless family tracking you down.

“They’re not going to come for you. I won’t let them get near you, and I don’t think you realize how much Junmyeon has up the security at and around the compound. You might constantly see Junmyeon and the inner circle, but you don’t see the twenty men who are constantly outside roaming the property with guns drawn. You’re safe here no matter what,” paused taking a beat staring at you. “I’ll take a bullet for you before I let anything happen to you.”

The thought of Sehun dying to protect you made you want to cry. You couldn’t handle losing another person. You’ve grown to care deeply for the man standing across from you. He’s done nothing but show you kindness and go out of his way to protect you.

“Please don’t die for me. Another person can die protecting me,” your eyes brim with tears as you clutch your yellow coffee mug.

“I don’t plan on dying, but I will take someone out to keep you safe,” he steps towards you. There’s very little space between. Slowly he reaches forward and pushes a piece of hair behind your eyes. His fingers linger on your skin for a long moment. The air in the room feels thick as his dark eyes stare at you.

“Okay.”

As night time falls laying in your bed you stare at the window that is covered by the dark curtains. Your mind roams to places it shouldn’t go. You wonder if the man that killed your brother felt any remorse. You wondered if before Baekhyun killed him if he told him about the man whose life he took. A shiver ran down your spine.

Sitting up you look at the alarm on your nightstand to see it’s one in the morning. Swallowing your dry throat reminds you how thirsty you are. Walking over to the door you open it and close it slowly wondering if Sehun heard you leave your room. You stand in the hallway staring at his door for a long moment. It takes all of about thirty seconds for Sehun to step out in the hallway. He once again dressed in nothing but a pair of pajama pants with his gun in his waistband.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

Nodding you say, “I needed water.”

Walking off towards the kitchen Sehun follows right behind you. Off to the left of the kitchen you see the flickering lights of the tv letting you know that some of the men were awake. Reaching into the fridge you pull out a bottle of water. Holding it out towards Sehun who is standing about two feet away from you. He takes it from your hand and nods his head. Grabbing a bottle for yourself you close the fridge door and twist off the lid. The cold water feels refreshing as you take a drink.

“What are you doing up?” You look over to find Junmyeon walking into the kitchen dressed in nothing but a pair of lounge pants that rest low on his hips showing off his beautifully toned body. You’ve rarely seen him dressed in anything other than business attire. This was the first time you had ever seen him shirtless. You notice right away he isn’t carrying a gun like Sehun is.

“I needed water,” you say.

“Were you sleeping okay?” He asks, stepping closer to you.

You shake your head and say, “I haven’t been able to fall asleep yet.”

“Sehun, can I have a moment with her?” he asks, dismissing your guard. Silently he nods and leaves the room head off to the tv room where the flickering lights were.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asks when you’re alone.

That’s a loaded question. You could listen to a handful of reasons why you couldn’t sleep. One of them was the information shared with you today seemed to be taking up every one of your thoughts.

“I can’t shut my mind off. I have too many things running through my mind,” you say simplifying all the reasons you couldn’t sleep.

“Why don’t you take a bath and relax?”

Shrugging your shoulders you realize you never even thought about it. In the bathroom attached to your room you had a beautiful marble bathtub you had yet to use.

“It will help you relax.”

“Why are you awake?” Nervously play with the cap on your water bottle.

“I couldn’t sleep either. I seem to also have a lot on my mind,” a soft chuckle passes his lips. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever heard him laugh before. His soft laugh makes you feel warm inside. There's something about the way he’s acting around you that feels so normal. He doesn’t have the same wall built up he normally does. He’s acting like a normal man and not a mob boss. “I was going to see what Jongin and Baekhyun are watching.”

“Will watching tv help you sleep?”

He shakes his head, “no but it will help distract me.”

“Oh.” You were curious to know what was going on in his mind that was so distracting to him. You can’t help but wonder if he’s worried about the aftermath of taking out one of Choi’s men. It’s a thought that has crossed your own mind.

“Why don’t you go take that bubble bath and relax?” he reaches out and gentles rest his hand on the counter top near yours.

“Okay. Goodnight Junmyeon.”

A soft smile crosses his lips, “goodnight.”

Walking out of the kitchen you find Sehun waiting for you right past the archway. You examine his face and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks. It’s clear that you have once again interrupted his sleep. The walk to your room is short. You stop at the door looking at Sehun who is intently watching you.

“Are you going to go to sleep?” he asks.

You shake your head, “Junmyeon suggested I take a bubble bath to relax.”

His tongue runs across his bottom lip as he nods his head. “When you moved and he sent some of the guys to get your things, he sent Jongdae and Kyungsoo to the store to get things for your room. He also had them get you bath stuff,” in his tired state he’s rambling a little and you can’t help but find it sweet. “Would you like me to show you where some of it is?”

Nodding you open your bedroom door. He leads you into the bathroom. Opening the cabinet next to your sink he pulls out a bottle of lavender scented bath oil and bubble bath. He sits them on the counter awkwardly and gives you a soft smile.

He turns on his heels to walk away and before he can exit the room you reach forward grabbing his hand. He stops in his tracks and looks back at you with a confused look.

“Can you show me how to use the tub? I don’t know which knob turns on the hot water,” you feel like a small child asking for help. You were a grown woman you shouldn’t need a man to walk you through how to use a bathtub.

His eyes drop down looking at your hand that is still holding on to his. Your cheeks flush bright red suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed. You release his hand and quickly step aside.

He kneels on the floor next to the marble bathtub and turns on the hot water. You stand there awkwardly watching him. Your eyes can’t help be drawn to his tone back. There was just something about Sehun that just left you constantly in awe. He looked like the boy next door with the boy of a Greek god. He stands up turning around. He’s caught you gawking and his golden skin.

“Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head unable to form any actual words.

“If you need anything I’m right next door.” He walks across the bathroom and stops in the doorway turning back to look at you. You fiddle with the sleeves on your pajama shirt that is too large for your frame. His gaze captures your full attention. “Goodnight,” his voice warms your insides.

“Goodnight Sehun.”

Standing in the same spot you listen for the sound of your bathroom door shutting before you shut the bathroom door. You slowly strip away your pajamas before pouring the heavenly scented oils into the warm water. Dipping your toes into the wonderfully warm water, a relaxing sensation takes over you. Sinking fully into the water a heavy sigh passes your lips. You sit there for a long moment with your shoulders above the water. You massage the warm into your skin that is still exposed to the air. As your finger passes over the scar that is left from where you were shot you can’t help but shiver. You shake your head trying to not think about the pain the injury caused. Slowly you fully submerge your body except for your head.

Closing your eyes you lean your head back and softly hum along to the song your mother used to sing to you while you were a child. Since losing your brother you’ve seemed to miss your mother more than ever. The empty feelingin taking over your heart at the fact that you don’t have a family anymore. It’s grown clear to you that your father doesn’t care about you. If he did care he would have come home the moment he heard he lost his son.

At a young age when you were able to sleep your mother would sing a sweet lullaby to you while she laid in bed with you. After losing your mom at such a young age, you brother learned the sweet lullaby. There were many nights when you were unable to sleep, and Sung-Ho would sit on the edge of your bed and sing the lullaby to you. Tears slowly slide down your cheek thinking of the last time the only two people that truly loved you sang this song to you.

You’ve cried so much over the last two months you can’t help but wonder if the tears will ever stop flowing. At what point have you cried so much that you just have nothing left inside you.

Reaching up you wash away your tears. You can’t sit here and cry in the middle of the night. This bath was supposed to relax you, not make you cry.

You start humming the lullaby hoping that it will bring you comfort. You pray one day that the hole in your chest will be filled. That the sadness that fills you will just one day disappear.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been sitting in the bathroom but the water is lukewarm now. The sound of someone knocking on the door startles you.

You hear your name faintly on the other side of the door.

“Who is it?” you say.

There’s another knock and you say something muffled. You’re assuming it’s either Sehun or Jongin. You quickly hop out of the tub and reach for your towel. Before you can even fully wrap the fluffy white towel around you, you lose your footing on the cool marble tile and slip. Your body hits the floor like a pile of bricks. You can’t help but cry out in pain. The sound of the doorknob wiggling makes you reach for your towel quickly covering your wet body. You attempt to wrap it around you to the best of your ability.

Sehun rushes in looking startled. He drops down in front of you as he says, “are you okay?”

You nod lying. You can’t help but wince as you try to sit up.

“I’m sorry I scared you. You’ve been in here for over an hour and I got worried,” his voice shakes slightly. You never heard his voice waver like this before.

“Sorry,” tug on the towel trying to keep your wet body covered.

“What did you hurt?”

“Maybe my wrist,” you realized right away that you might have hurt it when you fell. You hadn’t even tried to move it yet because you were worried it was going to hurt too much.

“I need to take you Yixing,” he reaches you for you to help you but you quickly push his hands away. If he helps you up there is a good chance he’ll see you naked. The towel you’re wearing is barely covering you.

“Can you please turn around?”

He stands quickly and gives you a moment of privacy. You reach for your pajama shirt and quickly pull it on and grab your underwear and shorts that were folded on the counter.

“You can look back.”

He turns to face you and finds you attempting to stand up. He lifts you effortlessly onto your feet.

“I’m so sorry I scared you,” he repeats as his eyes are locked on your wrist you’re holding against your chest.

“I’ll be okay.” You knew this wasn’t his fault at all. This happened because you’re easily startled now on top of being clumsy.

“I need to have Yixing look at that.” He’s not asking for you to go with him. He’s telling you he needs you to go see Yixing.

“Okay,” you don’t bother arguing. He needs you to seek medical attention because it’s his job to watch after you.

Walking out of your bedroom you walk down the hallway with his warm hand gently on your back as he leads you towards the medical area. Passing Junmyeon room you see Chanyeol standing outside the door leaning against the wall looking at something on his phone.

“Chanyeol please wake Yixing for me and tell him he needs to see her in the medical room,” Sehun says.

Chanyeol’s eyes immediately are drawn to your wrist that you're holding close to your body. He doesn’t ask any questions, he just nods his head.

Walking into the medical room Sehun flips on the light and helps you sit on the edge of the bed. He’s staring at you intently watching every single movement you make. His dark eyes lock on yours and you can see how guilty he feels.

“Sehun,” you say barely above a whisper. You aren’t even exactly sure what you plan on saying to him. But you need to say something. You can’t have him staring at you like he broke you. “It’s okay.”

Before he can even respond, Yixing walks into the room looking half awake. He’s dressed in plaid pajama pants and a grey long sleeve shirt. He pushes his fingers through his dark hair walking towards you.

“What happened at two in the morning that you got hurt,” he pulls up a chair sitting in front of you.

“I was taking a bath and slipped.”

“Yixing are you okay if I go real quick. I need to do something,” Sehun says speaking up.

“Yeah I’ve got her.”

Yixing ever so gently reaches forward taking your wrist in his hand. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips as he moves your arm. Your eyes are glassy from the pain as you look up and watch as Sehun leaves the room. You take a deep breath whimpering from pain as Yixing examines your wrist.

“What did he do?” Yixing asks as he gently rotates your wrist.

“He didn’t do anything. He startled me and I slipped. It’s not his fault,” you sigh.

“He clearly doesn’t think that,” his eyes are locked in your wrist and he’s seeing how much you can move it.

“Are you a doctor?” You’ve been extremely curious about Yixing's medical background since he removed the bullet from your arm and stitched you up the night you lost your brother.

“You could say that,” he leans back in his chair locking up at you. “I went to medical and everything so technically I’m a doctor, but I never worked in a hospital or anything like that. I went to medical school so I could keep Junmyeon and the rest of the group safe.”

Knitting your eyebrows together you attempt to process the fact that he went through eight years of medical school so he could keep the gang he’s a part of safe.

You watch as Junmyeon walks into the medical room with Sehun right behind him.

Junmyeon has an unreadable look on his face as he walks towards you quickly. Sehun is still wearing the same guilt ridden expression.

“Myeon, she's okay,” Yixing says before Junmyeon can even ask.

“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks.

“It’s not broken. It looks like she sprang it. I’ll wrap it up and she’ll be okay,” Yixing walks over to the cupboard and pulls out some bandages. Junmyeon stands there intently watching as Yixing wraps your wrist. You can’t help but wince and he moves your wrist around trying to wrap it properly.

“Yixing and Sehun I need a moment with her.” Junmyeon’s voice is firm as he speaks to his men.

“I’m going back to bed boss. If you get in too much pain or anything don’t hesitate to get me,” Yixing says looking over at you.

Sehun looks void of emotion as he looks at you before walking out of the room behind Yixing. Your chest tightens as Junmyeon moves so he’s sitting in the chair Yixing had been sitting in.

“What happened,” his voice sounds so unsure.

“I fell because I’m clumsy,” you look down at your wrist that is now wrapped in a white bandage.

He pushes his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh, “Sehun said he hurt you. That you fell because of him.”

“I startle easily now. This isn’t his fault,” you hate that Sehun blames himself for this. This is by no means his fault. Even if he hadn’t startled you there was a good chance you would have slipped on the marble floor.

“Did you yell at him?” you ask looking up at him. Your eyes are glassy as you try not to cry. Your emotions seem to be running extra high tonight.

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t going to yell at him until I talk to you. I didn’t think he was foolish enough to do anything to actually hurt you.”

“Please don’t yell at him. This isn’t his fault, Sehun has done nothing but look after me.”

He nods his head and reaches his hand out holding it right in front of your hurt wrist, “can I see?”

Placing your hand in his he doesn’t move your wrist or anything he just stared at it with an intent look on his face. For a ruthless mob boss he’s extremely gentle when it comes to you.

“I thought the bath was supposed to help you relax?” He raises his eyebrow looking up at you.

“It did. Thank you for getting me that bath stuff. Sehun said you had some of the guys get stuff that would help make me feel at home.”

He still holds your wrist as he gives you a soft smile, “your world was ripped apart that night and I want to make this place feel like a home to you.” His smile falters as he takes a breath, “that night I didn’t expect for you to willingly stay here. I was worried you would think I’m holding you captive.”

You never realized that he was worried you wouldn’t stay. That night he talked to you and he just informed you he lived here. He didn’t ask, he just said he needed to protect you.

“Do you feel like I’m holding you captive,” he looked sad as he asked a question you weren’t prepared for him to ask.

You shake your head. You knew if you wanted to you could leave. One of the boys would be by your side, but you could leave.

“I’m not here against my will. I want to be here,” you state. “I don’t feel safe unless I’m here.”

His breathing is low as he focuses on you, “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’ll talk to Sehun later about it.”

He starts to stand up and quickly you say his name and reach for his hand with your good hand. He stops and turns to face you. His lips are pursed together for a long moment as he just stares at you, “thank you for protecting me.”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he looks down at your hand that is holding his wrist.

“Please don’t yell at Sehun. I promise this isn’t his fault. I know you’re probably mad at him, but just know he feels bad enough without you punishing him for it.” You know this isn’t your place to tell Junmyeon what he does to his men, but this involved you and you couldn’t handle Sehun being in trouble for something he didn’t do.

You release his hand and he walks over to the door pushing it open. He calls Sehun’s name and your bodyguard slowly steps inside. You can’t help but notice during all of this he’s still opted out of wearing a shirt, but you do notice that he now has his gun tucked into his waistband.

“Sehun don’t let it happen again,” Junmyeon places his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

“Yes sir.”

The exchange between them is so formal. It's a reminder that even though Junmyeon is kind to you, it’s easy to forget what he does for a living. This exchange reminds you that he is indeed in charge of the men that live in this compound with you.

“YN, please be careful. If you need anything happens again come to me first.”

His words must feel like salt being rubbed into an open wound for Sehun. He closes his eyes taking a deep breath before nodding.

You want to cry at the fact that the defeated look that plays across Sehun is your fault. You should have just gone to bed, you shouldn’t have taken the bath attempting to relax.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper with your voice shaking.

He takes another deep breath, “you have nothing to be sorry for. This is my fault.”

Closing your eyes you push back the tears threatening to fall. Standing up, you walk past the wounded looking Sehun. Walking down the hall you hear footsteps behind letting you know that he’s right behind you. Stopping at your door you turn to find Sehun stopping by his door.

The hallways feel small as you stare at each other for a long moment. Things between you suddenly feel different and you wish you could rewind time. He doesn’t deserve the defeat look he wears as he stares at you.

You open your bedroom door without saying anything to Sehun and shut it quickly. Leaning your body against the door you take a deep breath as tears begin to slide down your cheeks. The overwhelming feeling takes over you as you cry. Reaching up you push your tears away telling yourself to stop.

Walking across your room slowly you lay down in your bed. Crawling into the middle of the bed that is way too large for one purse you curl up under the cover praying sleep will find you. This night has been overwhelming enough. It’s not long before your eyes grow too heavy and sleep finds you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* the taglist is open send a message or send an ask if you would like to be tagged*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@questiontotheanswer @green7eababy @kriswu46 @sheepish-xing

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 50

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Neo helped me find what I was looking for. A place called The Den. I could feel the music even from outside. Neo led me by one hand down a set of long stairs deep into the Atlas rock in her typical silence. The steady beat of techno dance music hammered away at me.

We opened the door to the place and the sound of it rocked me back onto the balls of my feet. I could feel the sound of the music against the hairs on my arms. It was the sort of sound you felt as well as heard. Wump, wump, wump, wump, wump. It was like holding a jackhammer against my stomach.

We came out onto a dance floor of black and white. There were rich golden lights that shone down in alternating fashions. The yellow light alternated with purples, whites, and blues and gave the place an otherworldly feel.

It felt like a stranger's dream. Smoke breezed through the atmosphere of the place and the flood lights poured through the stuff. Both nicotine and Mary Jane filled the air. It was thick enough to cut through like butter. It wafted about and was dense enough that I felt like I could peel away at it.

There were people dancing on the floor in front of us. The women wore satin and silk dresses. Short skirts and slitted outfits were everywhere. The men wore white and blue button downs that played hell with my sense of color in the light. They wore black and brown khakis held up by nice looking belts.

Drinks were served around the edges of the dance floor. There were tables lined up against the walls. Red velvets adorned the seats of the first floor. Alcoholic beverages and cash were exchanged over the circular bar near the center of the dance floor and against the walls.

It was gorgeous and full of life. It was nothing like the Malachite's bar back in Mistral's lower floors.

This was a place the good folks of Atlas could use to get away from it all. And boy were they. The dance floor was a mish-mash-mosh-pit. Flailing limbs raved against day jobs as people tried to waste their evening away.

Wump, Wump, Wump . The hypnotic tune of the dance music battered away at me. It was the sort of sound you felt as much as you heard.

We walked through the raving limbs of the first floor of The Den.

There were other scents on the smoke. Probably other things being inhaled besides traditional stuff and Marijuana. Flashing lights strobed and warbled through the heavy weight of the air.

Neo was holding her nose. For my part I pulled out my own pipe and took a take. My exhalation was lost to the chaos of the first floor.

Atlesians were everywhere. Taking part in those finer things in life and trying to escape their evening. It was all about booze and dance.

Near stairs leading up to the second floor a man in a black shirt and jeans stopped Neo and I. He was armed with a pistol in a holster attached to the side of his chest. He wore dark sunglasses despite being inside which I kinda understood considering the strobe lights and all. He was about my height and broad at the shoulder but the pistol didn't look huntsman class. He didn’t look huntsman class.

I could take him disgustingly easily.

I stopped anyways at his gesture. I tried to read his lips as he spoke into a walkie-talkie on his collar but didn’t get anything. He pressed a finger into a wired microphone in his ear. He must have gotten a response he was looking for because he stepped aside. He swung a red velvet rope with him as he did.

I blew smoke and felt the relaxation take me over. Nobody wanted a fight in a place like this. Not me, and not this guy's boss.

I ascended to the second floor, away from the raving pit of people down on the first. Up here people were smoking harder things. There were razor blades and lines of hyper ready to be taken. In one corner there was an orgy going on. I watched someone do a shot out of a young girl's belly button, too.

I was starting to figure out why this place was called The Den.

It was a drug den, sure. That too. But it was more than that. It was a place to get away and be animals. It was about letting loose. I found the thought a touch hypocritical considering the racial segregation of Mantle and Atlas.

It was a touch quieter on the second floor and there were couches and balconies strewn about. One such couch with the red velvet covering had a gold haired man sitting on it. He peeked over glasses to reveal golden amber eyes. He was surrounded by security guards in that same black shirt and jeans uniform. He was also wearing a golden suit that I thought was tacky and flashed in the light.

I stepped closer and someone put a gun in my face. I turned to look at him in shock. Not because I found the weapon threatening, but because of the precise opposite. He couldn't kill me with that water pistol.

I blew smoke right in the guards face. Nice, and long. He coughed and I laughed. I enjoyed my little high and it was still loud enough that I couldn't hear my own madness. The whisperings of Mother were drowned out by the sheer volume. I picked at a bug in my ear, though, you couldn't have everything.

The golden haired man waved an arm and the pistol was removed from my grill. The man holding it looked away and rubbed his eyes from the smoke.

I walked up to the man on the couch and pocketed my pipe.

"Aurum?" I asked. The name was probably fake. I knew that. His hair might even be dyed. The suit was a bit hard on the eyes too. But if you were going to call yourself Aurum then you better work for it.

"You know my name but I don't know yours." He pointed to the side of the couch, offering me a seat. I took it and he started pouring three amber shots for himself, Neo, and I.

"I'm Cloud Strife."

"I've never heard of you."

"No one has."

"I know her, though, you're working with Neapolitan. Are you perhaps her new handler? I was wondering what would happen with Roman dead. You seem to fit the bill."

"Maybe a little." I let him read into that as much as he wanted. Neo moved like she was going to sit on my lap but I blocked her to the side, placing her next to me. She sat down on the far side of the wide couch of Aurum from me.

I turned back to Aurum.

"What can I do for someone like you?"

"I'm looking for information on General Ironwood. I want to know the facilities he and his friends visit nearly every day."

He poured himself another shallow shot on the table in front of him.

I took mine. It tasted like oranges and was smooth and rich. It hit the back of my throat like a golf swing.

"The general doesn't have friends, by the by. That's a free-bee."

"Even still."

"I hope you can pay for information like that."

"I can. For every facility he and his associates visit everyday I'll pay you ten grand."

"Oh is that all." His voice came out low under the beat of the music.

"There's extra in it for you if it only started since Black-Out day."

"Well that is interesting," he purred.

"Something catch your attention?"

"Maybe a little," he shot back. Throwing my own words in my face as he did. "There's Winter Schnee."

"Winter Schnee…?"

"Special Operative Winter Schnee. She works closely with General Ironwood. "

"Oh?"

"She visits this special bunker nearly every day. Since Black-Out day no less."

“I can pay you two-hundred grand for the name of that facility and the details on it.”

Aurum took his second shot and poured me and Neo another. “Now we’re talkin’,” he growled. “What if I don’t need your money, though.”

“What? Do you need people killed?”

“People, plural,” he laughed out in a rich baritone. “I like you. No wonder you’ve managed to capture Neapolitan. You’re violent.”

“Well we are all products of our upbringing.”

“I don’t need people killed but I could use Neapolitan’s skills.”

“What for?”

“A little job. You see some of my men got locked up by Atlas Security."

"Sounds unfortunate."

"They're going to be sentenced to forced labor down in the mines."

Why wasn't I surprised that that was how Atlas dealt with its criminals. You just chuck the dissidents and anyone you can arrest down in the mines and you got yourself a slave labor force.

Gross.

And typical of Atlas. Nobody cares what happened to prisoners. I bet the prison system was for-profit here, even. Anything to make a buck in Atlas. The more the place tried to have redeeming qualities the more I hated it.

I listened to a brief pause in the wump, wump, wump of the music.

"You need us to bust them out."

"I need her. I don't need you beyond that."

"We'll see. I'll need the details. What's security look like? When's the transfer?"

"In two days. They're being held in an Atlas police station. Security is tight. That's why I could use Neapolitan's help."

"Their names?"

"A boy named Obsidian. And another called Cobalt." He summoned photos of a dark haired kid with dark eyes. There was another frame which held the blue haired boy with pale eyes.

"We do this for you and those facility details are ours. Everything I asked for."

He held out a hand for me to shake. "It's a deal. What do you say?"

I shook on it and he grinned golden teeth at me.

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I didn't trust Aurum. I thought he'd double cross me given the opportunity. I didn't have any real safeguards against him doing it beyond the threat of myself and Neo. Which if he knew who she was it was a pretty big threat. If he knew who I was it would be even bigger.

I think that's how shit worked up here. There was as much backstabbing as could be managed. Even still I had little choice but to help him and deal with the consequences later. If he tired to cross me I'd just kill him and torture him and not in that order.

The operation was going to be a simple one. We knew when and where they were going to be transferred on the gondola down to the lower city.

I was going to fly down, open the gondola like a tin can, and we were going to grab them.

Nice and easy. In and out. No questions asked.

We arrived at the station in Atlas and fought our way inside. It was on the under belly of Atlas and had some guards to it. I slammed one to the side with Crocea Mors and jumped-kicked another. I was way too fast for some simple guards to stop me. I was just far too strong, too.

"Stop right there!" Neo and I didn't listen to the guard.

We rushed Atlas Sec at the top of the gondola station and made our way down to where the gondola hung. We watched the car shuttle off with our prisoners in question inside. I could see more guards on board through the windows.

The station was all dark greys and blue lights. With a single tram line running down the middle where people could get on and off, it was lit by soft blue and white lights. It was manned by Atlas Security at the moment. I wasn't sure if this station was permanently owned by Atlas military forces or if this was a special occasion. Either way I was crashing their party.

I vaulted a security gate. With ease, my sprint turned into a hovering dash as I went over. I slammed a knee into a sentry's face. He went rolling down.

I grabbed one guard and slammed him against the ground. Then I hammered him into a wall. His armor shattered as I did.

I launched a high kick that brought down a third. It was going very well. Neo came hurtling alongside me and whipped her body weight around an Atlas Security agent's neck.

She teleported ahead of me and knocked another agent's gun upwards while I crossed the gap. I cut his gun in half and pulled the rifle butt out of his hands and smacked him in the head with it.

I swung my sword and knocked down the security officer before me. I kicked down another and punched the lights out of a third hard enough to shatter his helmet. Neo slowly choked out a last and we listened to the sound of communications failing between Atlas on the gondola and up here.

"Report! Soldier, report! What's happening up there?!"

I listened for a moment before I jumped up on the cable with an easy flip. I balanced for a moment and Neo reached out and grabbed a hold of me. I leaned forward and I flew down the cable on a pocket of air at the gondola car.

It took a few moments to reach it with the wind whistling past us in the clear Solitas sky. I felt and heard Neo hold on with bated breath.

I arrived on top of it and sliced into the metal with Crocea Mors as I flew and ripped into the roof so I could start to pull it off. I put the sword on my back as we dangled out over the open air above Mantle. I jammed a hand into the jagged slice I made in the metal and I peeled the metal back as I hovered with a casual strength. Glass shattered and fell down onto the lower city as I pulled the car apart.

Guards inside peppered me with fire but Neo teleported off my back and into the gondola. She jumped around inside bringing down the guards with grace and ease. She swung her weight around and slammed one into the jagged glass where a window used to be. She flipped and shoved another into a twisted bar of metal from where I ripped the roof off.

She jumped up with her umbrella and teleported first Obsidian out to me who I grabbed. Then the other. I reversed my momentum, I was tractionless for a moment as I reversed directions and began to fly back up the thick cable of twisted metal wires. I rode up on the gondola cable and flew back up to the top where we'd already disabled Atlas security.

I watched Neo jump out of the car and begin her descent down with her parasol. We'd meet up later easily enough back at the motel.

I carried the two guys, one in each arm all the way back up to the top of the tram station. I held them by their handcuffs and it was easy enough to glide along the cable back to the station.

We made it look simple, too. No casualties, even. Probably. None up here but I could make no promises about what happened in the car. Neo hadn't exactly been gentle from what I heard once she got inside.

I set the two guys down and flipped to a landing in the grey gondola station. The members of Atlas Security we already disabled were still down.

"Well you're off then." I shattered their restraints with my sword and set them loose.

"What, wait! Who are you?" The black haired kid asked. I called him a kid but he was probably about the same age as me.

"I'm Cloud Strife. Run to your boss and tell him our business is done on my side. Go! Before more security shows up."

I kicked a rousing Atlas Security agent in the head and went back down with a muted grunt.

They bolted and I looked out of the station at the distant form of Neo.

I didn't need to fight my way out. I just charged Limit and jumped off the side of the station.

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-WG

#neo #neapolitan #jaune arc #cloud strife #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!Jaune arc #war of the roses #lancaster #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #motion sickness #rwby #ffvii #ff7

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