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smolstarthief · 3 years ago

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Persona 5/Persona 5 Strikers: Pro-Police or Anti-Police?

Hoo boy... So this honestly has been a LONG time coming on my end because I have seen so much of that debate on social media (Twitter namely) and I can see the points of BOTH sides but there have been moments where it just got out of hand... Especially whenever people tried to put in a more grey/nuanced take only to be slammed and taken out of context. Even repeatedly mentioning the interrogation at the beginning of P5 which, I will admit has gotten tiresome. At least for me, I do still feel for Joker and I wished the game acknowledged his trauma more but there's a thing called, "beating a dead horse" and this is one along with "Haru says ACAB" in Strikers (which was done THREE TIMES in the same arc and it got annoying fast, like shut up already! We get it!). So, let's dive in a little bit:

MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!

Persona 5/Persona 5 Royal

Now let me just say I know! Police in Japan are just as bad if not worse than the West and I STILL hate the idea of Makoto wanting to become a cop for such naive reasons (especially with what happened to Sae, her own sister!)... But there are at least some of form of nuances sometimes and by that I mean, I can see what they were trying to do? I do agree that P5/P5S backpedaled SEVERELY by deciding to sweep issues under the rug after addressing them and not continuing from such. In fact I feel like it could have been a hell of a lot better. But P5 did something different compared to previous games and addresses the issues DIRECTLY right at the beginning of said game! It was tense and horrifying, but needed. Of course... They then sweep it under the rug and act like nothing traumatic happened to our protag which is NOT a good look at all and I'm still pissed off about it. In the main game's case, it's portrayed as more black and white with only a SMALL amount of nuance like that cop that was trying to help Futaba when she went out by herself and got lost (which people ignore entirely by the way). So I CAN see where people got the "anti-police" message from... But that's only the tip of the iceberg as it's ACTUALLY more about Systematic Corruption, not exactly or JUST police corruption. Namely in politics with Shido and the Conspiracy (which is apparently still somewhat around in Strikers until Owada's downfall) controlling everything all the way to law enforcement. The force had been basically under his payroll (including the corrupt SIU Director before his death) whether by force or not (mostly not in this case though). Now honestly, the police depicted there are undoubtedly rotten to the core save for a VERY SMALL handful (the cop that was trying to help Futaba which, again, gets ignored by several). Look at the interrogators who ruthlessly beat and drug a minor without any second thought or remorse for example. But again, the black and white narrative the game kept unwittingly doing ended up being to its detriment in a way. I'm not defending those assholes AT ALL! They deserved every punishment given to them! But for a game that goes on about grey morality... It doesn't quite deliver on that. Still though, it does emphasize that it's more of the fault of the whole corrupt system, not just one part of it. There needs to be change and reform which is what our MCs were trying to do in a way (more like inspiring change but still). In the end, it's all about the following:

Corruption and abuse of power.

Again the police depicted in this game were incompetent at best, corrupt at worse with very few silver linings. But it's not just them but rather the one person responsible for the whole mess. Who had them under his payroll? Who controlled them and by extension all of Tokyo? Who was willing to dispose of anyone who "outlives their usefulness" or is perceived as a threat to what he wants (including his own family)?

SHIDO AND BY EXTENSION THE CONSPIRACY

Bottom line: They are definitely a problem but it's not just them.

"But, Joker and his trauma?"

I definitely understand that and still do. I fully believe he has and still has trauma with the police. Easy! But... I do feel like people go too far with it sometimes. It's hard to explain but there have been moments where people either use it as a justification/argument against someone trying to provide a more nuanced view of things or... Dare I say, depict him like a "uwu soft traumatized boi." Like I said, it's hard to explain on my end so feel free to ignore it. Everyone deals with trauma differently so there is STRONG chance that I'm overanalyzing it. I just remember moments where I just feel a little, I guess annoyed? I'm not sure exactly but final thing: I understand what he went through and I can't imagine how long it would take to recover but I hope he DOES overcome it.

"Sae? Akechi?"

Yep, even though their jobs are different, they are by and large members of law enforcement no matter how you spin it. Both were broken in a way. Akechi is pretty easy to explain with how Shido negatively impacted his life but not much about Sae, who dealt with sexism/misogyny at her workplace along with the trauma of her father's (also a cop) death. She no doubt had some idealism only to be hit with the fact that she's gonna have to use underhanded/downright illegal tactics to get by and even rise up the ranks. She, therefore ended up (well, nearly) corrupted herself before coming to her senses. That's honestly one of the BIGGEST REASONS why I felt like Makoto joining the force to become a police commissioner isn't a good, even a downright naïve, idea. I honestly would have been somewhat fine with it if it weren't for that fact among other things. Regardless of her willpower, it will go south fast.

Now... Onto Strikers!

Persona 5 Strikers

Since the game came out and I started playing it, I still feel like the system is still beyond saving, especially when attempting to do it from the inside. But I don't mind the added nuances that P5 didn't do much of. It's still continuing the critiques, just shows more of what does happen within said system and even has an ACTUAL officer (Zenkichi) say, "Yeah, my job sucks, everyone's corrupt, there are much better ways to do things and make a change but not this. I'm only staying because I have a daughter to take care of and it's all I know. I'm no different from them." Was it all handled well? I wouldn't say "yes" (Joker's trauma is BARELY addressed at all of course) but a little better than what P5's narrative did which only addressed the issues but not exactly follow up on them. Now to be fair... In the system, regardless of where you live, any one within it who remotely tries to do something or speak against it either lose their jobs or even go "missing" irl. Those have happened and it's more proof that yeah, it's rotten to the core. There's no denying it but regardless, that's NOT what the game is about at all. At least that's what I feel about it as it's only PART of the narrative. I think Zenkichi puts it best here:

Speaking of Zenkichi... Oh boy... Now I definitely understand some of the criticisms with him but honestly, he was the best written (PT) character I've ever encountered! He was honestly the perfect representation of those that genuinely want to help and do good, only to be held back by an extremely harsh reality. It was already hinted at with Sae but here? It 100 percent confirms just how harsh and even cutthroat it can be if it could break someone's idealism so badly. Even Kaburagi of all people thinks the same thing Zenkichi said:

Then there's his past and it's a tragic one! But let's look more at the decisions he ended up making:

While it was no doubt done to protect his daughter, he ended making a selfish decision along with a selfless one (which was brilliant!) with not only allowing the cover up of his wife's death and denying justice for her, but also ruining an innocent person and their family's lives.

It's horrible, but also... There's a grey area/nuance as with the rest of his character. It was both understandable, but also wrong as he, as Akane's Shadow puts it:

He sacrificed his values, his morals, all for the sake of having a peace of mind. Speaking of Akane, she's also an interesting case in a way that she more or less perfectly represents the more "black and white" views on justice in general. Namely the more toxic/biased kind. Her reasons are also understandable but she was also acting selfishly by only focusing on how SHE was effected by Aoi's death and not even considering those that were also grieving her death and/or that people grieve/handle grief differently than her. But back on topic.

Her own views and beliefs that law enforcement basically SHOULD be dismantled (mostly out of said childish bias and black & white views) and it's framed as WRONG and it's very much correct on that. Chaos and order are two sides of the same coin, one can't exist without the other. When I say ACAB, I'm calling for reform, defund, have the corrupt held accountable for EVERYTHING and even face jail time for their crimes! Defund the police, have the ones that arrest, harm, and even murder out of bias (race, gender, etc.), lose their badges/jobs and locked up, make improvements! It's saying that there IS still corruption out there and there's no denying it. But fully eliminating the law in general will just lead to more problems. Now granted, she's young and clearly doesn't fully understand why those views are ultimately wrong but still... It was a very interesting subject to tackle and I feel like they handled it well.

Now back to Zenkichi, he was at first in denial about his decisions ultimately being the wrong ones too and even tries to justify it. Of course, his Shadow said otherwise and that was when he finally admitted that he really did act no different from the criminals he despised. But it also doesn't mean he can't redeem himself and that's what ultimately leads to his new resolve:

That right there along with everything else! There's the nuance! And ultimately despite some hiccups, Strikers handled the grey morality and nuance beautifully! Especially regarding law enforcement! Dare I say, even better than the base game! It continues the critiques with no problem but also showing different sides and areas of it! There is good and evil, but what about in-between? What about the more greyer area? It still says that there IS corruption, sometimes even beyond saving but... Sometimes a small silver lining is hidden somewhere.

Now, the ultimate question:

Is P5 & P5S (namely the latter) Pro-Police or Anti-Police?

Personally, my answer is this: Neither.

Why? What theme do they both have in common?

JUSTICE

Someone puts it best on Twitter that the games are more pro-justice and I fully agree!

P5/P5S gives the idea about following your OWN justice, your OWN moral code and rules, paving your OWN path and not let others dictate it! That's what the MCs ultimately start to learn in both games. Therefore it's pro-justice. Again, do I agree that the system is beyond saving? Yeah. Do I at least acknowledge and understand what the narratives are trying to say and nuances regardless even if I don't agree with some writing decisions (ex: Makoto wanting to become a commissioner despite everything)? Also yes. But at the same time, don't judge a book by its cover for other people (not just law enforcement and politics mind you). Especially some that genuinely DO want to help at best. That there is nuance and greyness, just have to look closely. Some of the MCs are still TERRIBLY written and executed (even annoying) but the message was still somewhat there.

Final Thoughts

Now I fully understand how you all feel of course! I still believe in ACAB and even I agree that maybe I'm one to talk and have a lot more to learn about the world... This is just my own attempt at putting my own two cents in. If you disagree, that's fine! This is just what I've felt should be at least talked about more often. And I tried to phrase it as best as I can without coming off as insensitive or ignorant and if I did, I sincerely apologize for that! I'm not trying to say, come off as a "bootlicker" or any of the sort. I'm just trying show discuss more of the grey areas and nuances that are, more often than not, constantly overlooked. How one interprets both games is ultimately up to them. You, the player. And this is my own interpretation. Simple as that. I hope you all have a good day/afternoon/evening!

#starchild rambles #analysis #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona 5 strikers #p5 #p5r #p5s #p5s spoilers #p5r spoilers #p5 spoilers #long post

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crazy4myself · 5 years ago

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No Harm List Pt.4

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Trigger warnings: DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACK!! I really took my time with writing this, trying my hardest to convey these feelings without being triggering. I also tried to make it as comforting as possible, but if you are feeling a little anxious maybe save this fic for a better day. Mental health first!

Additional warnings: mentions of violence, explicit language, mentions of death,

Genre: Romance, angst, violence, gang/mafia AU,

Rating: 18+ (bc of mentions of violence there’s no sexual content)

<- Pt.3

"Hobi, I don't wanna be mad. I just wanna know the truth,” you pleaded, voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren't rich.

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble, Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn't want to hurt you. He didn't mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn't a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn't.

He sighed, sitting on the couch, and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"I guess it's best to start at the very beginning, which was when I was around 16," he started.

"I lived in the same neighborhood as these two guys RM and Suga. They had actually served some time for getting busted with another gang, the Dime Lions, they're long gone now but basically, some shit went down during some kind of gang raid, and RM and Suga ended up taking the fall for it. Instead of the Dime Lions busting them out of jail, they left them there and basically disowned them afterward."

You nodded along to let him know you were following.

"Anyways RM and Suga, they had a rough start when they got out of the gang, both were bastards, street rats on the Westside they never had anyone to look out for them. So they did the only thing they could do at the time to survive, which was breaking it to cars and shit and cleaning them out. I don't just mean personal belongings of these guys took engine parts, piping, tiers they took it all, and sold it to any scrap shops they could find. At the time, I was working at my uncle's scrapyard. I knew RM and Suga when they were in middle school before they joined the Dime Lions. They stayed with the foster family that lived in my neighborhood. I knew they had been kicked out of the house and were basically living with the Lion's, so when I saw they were working alone, I got curious. For a year or so, I convinced my uncle to continue buying from them even when he started getting a little suspicious about the guys stealing. The guys knew I looked out for them, and we were cool for a while. Then my mom got sick," he paused for a moment looking away from you.

You reached out and placed your hand on his leg knowing how hard it was for him to talk about his mom and Dawon.

Collecting himself, Hoseok went on, "So I asked for an in with the guys, I needed money and I knew cars. I could remove the parts more effectively than they could. I also knew some clientele who were always coming by and buying parts because they flip cars for fun, those guys were easy targets. So I guess the three of us were a little gang of misfits for a while, I used the money to help pay for mom's treatment. They used the money to survive.

Then we started taking some younger ones under our wing. RM and Suga got their own place and opened their doors to some kids in a rough spot like they were. But as we got bigger, we started getting sloppy. We had been at it for about a year at this point. The guys started taking on some other jobs, but I stuck to what I did best. I wasn't really interested in broadening my horizons. Like I said, we had been at it for a while, and I got cocky, I guess. We had a few scuffles here and there, but we always got out of them okay. Then one night, we got busted scraping a car at some guy's house, and he shot me in the leg, and the cops got me. RM ended up bailing me out of jail, and Suga, Suga got me a gun."

He shifted in his seat and looked at you nervously, "I wanted out at this point, mom was basically on her deathbed, and I was all Dawon had. I couldn't risk going to jail, ya know. I owed RM money for bail, but my uncle got me a job as an actual mechanic, I thought I could earn money the honest way, pay them back and then Dae and I could just go back to our lives. But then the doctors told us about some experimental treatment that could possibly cure mom. How the hell could I pass that up? I would have done anything to help her get better." his brows furrowed as he tightened his fist into balls.

"So I stayed. At this point, BTS was growing, it was an official gang, tattoo and all. We had recruited Jin, who came from money, he used some of his trust fund to fund BTS and help us grow, and RM was starting to get a little ambitious. He wanted territory, he wanted me to take the tattoo and be his third." Hobi squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh, he felt like he had to force the words out of him to confess his sins to you.

"I told you Suga got me a gun after the arrest, and it ended up I'm a really good shot, so good I didn't even have to kill a guy for a long time. I researched where to shoot to keep someone down for a long while without it being fatal, so that's what I did. I worked a few more jobs for RM, we did a big heist. Actually, that was our big break. A team of six other guys and I broke into this old rich dude's mansion, nearly cleaned out his safe when we split the money most of the guys put a percentage into my pot. I walked out that night with almost enough to pay for mom's treatment in full.

I told RM I wouldn't be his third, and he offered me an out, I just needed to take one more job for him, and he would pay out the rest of mom's bills, so that's what I did. I killed for the first time, and then I was free. I wouldn't have to do any of it again. Well, that's what I intended," he paused, his voice growing softer.

You tried to keep your face neutral as he revealed the horrors to you. Not that it mattered Hoseok couldn't even bring himself to look at you.

"Mom ended up passing that night." he laughed, a bitter sound that felt foreign to the kind man you knew, "I swear whatever cruel god is out there pulling all the strings did it to punish me. To let me know, they saw what I had become and that I didn't deserve to have people I love in my life. I wasn't good enough to feel love in this world,"

"Hobi, that's not-" he cut you off with a bitter laugh as he looked upwards to hold back his tears. The motion made him seem as though he was searching for the fates he mocked. "Don't y/n, I know what I am,"

"Dae was a senior when mom passed, and it absolutely broke her. I had to fight to get her to go to school for those last few months. Hell, it was a fight to get her out of bed for her graduation. Her exit exams were a disaster, and the councilors at the college were understanding, for the most part. They still admitted her to the school, but not a drop of financial aid was offered to her. She deserved so much more," Hobi's voice was laced with bitter disdain, his eyes looking far off.

"So I did everything I could to give it to her. I borrowed from Namjoon, enough to cover her entire admission at Alcorn University."

"Hobi, that's so much," you couldn't hold the comment in. It was near impossible for an ordinary person to buy their way into Alcorn if they didn't get scholarships, the tuition at the prestigious school was over $20,000 a semester for admission alone.

"And I did it, I had Jin make up a fake scholarship for her, send her a cute little letter telling her about the award. She thought that she earned a full ride, and I let her believe it. I even borrowed enough so she would stay in the dorms, I figured it would be safest to keep her out of the house. I didn't know what kind of jobs RM was going to have me do."

"I took the tattoo, and killing became more of a normal thing for me. It started to get easier, I kept my distance and tried my hardest to not even see their eyes.

There was a big turf war that year. I don't know, the city was on the brink of a recession, a lot of big players in the city were changing the rules of the game. Business owners fought to take down other businesses simply so theirs could stay open, the market was a disaster. I never cared about the politics of any of it, I just did what I was told, and because of that, I'm still not totally sure all I did that year. What lives I took. Who all I hurt. I did everything I could to forget those nights and the blood. I told myself I was doing it for a good reason, ya know.

I didn't want to know, I thought I would save that for the day I'm standing outside of hell, and they list off every single one of my evil deeds before they sentence their judgment." Hoseok's vacant eyes started to shine with tears.

"And that was the stupidest fucking thing I could have ever done. I had no clue who had it out for me, I had started feeling invincible. I didn't even consider that someone would want to take their revenge, I had killed Kim Martin Sr.'s son."

Your blood chilled at the name, and he didn't look at you as he continued.

"He was some big business owner or something, I was supposed to kill him, but there was a mix-up, and I got his son, Kim Martin Jr. instead. Whoever made the call decided that killing his son was just as effective because the grief practically destroyed him. A few misguided stock investments, while he was grieving, crashed his empire. He lost everything and had to move to the Westside in the aftermath.

Suga kept good tabs on the guy, but then he fell off the grid. We figured he left town or hell maybe he died. We didn't consider him a threat, he showed no interest in coming after BTS, so I didn't even think to keep an eye out for Dawon."

You felt hot tears roll down your face as you realized what happened. The media painted Martin as the bad guy. They accused him of losing his business after his son died due to extreme drug abuse. The city officials wrote him off as such a pathetic low life, that come the time of his death that his murder was barely investigated. It was simply declared a drug deal gone wrong. But he was a father, a father who lost everything to a hitman and wanted to return the favor.

Hoseok believed he didn't deserve love. Whatever higher power that was calling the shots took everything away from him as punishment.

You think of your best friend now long passed, her beautiful smile and contagious laugh. The way she could always read you and knew exactly what you needed, whether it be your favorite ice cream on your period or a trip to the botanical gardens in the middle of the night when she knew you were missing home a bit more than normal.

There was a loose glass in the greenhouse that hosted the plants native to your home. You would both scale the fence to the gardens late at night and push that glass panel in and carefully crawl into the greenhouse. The air would be filled with the floral scents you grew up with, and you would just walk the rows of plants and run your fingers over the velvet petals and waxy leaves.

Until Dawon would play music, a playlist the two of you made of songs in your native tongue. You would dance around the humid greenhouse singing on the top of your lungs while Dawon would laugh and clap along, excitedly shouting with you when she recognized a word or two.

You thought about the way you and Hoseok both carried a burden of guilt after she passed. Until now, you had felt like you failed her as a best friend and roommate.

For three years, you had tortured yourself with thoughts like if you hadn't procrastinated so much on your assignments that week, you would have been home when she decided to make a late snack run. You told yourself the robber probably wouldn't have stopped her if you were together. You reasoned that two of you would have deterred her as a target.

Or maybe he would have just shot you instead. Dawon would have recovered from the loss so much better, she had Hoseok to comfort her and family and friends to support her. You were merely an exchange student in a city with no morals, loved by no one, but taken in out of guilt by her brother. It would've been a better trade.

You tortured yourself with these thoughts day and night consumed with feelings similar to survivor's guilt.

You never understood Hoseok's guilt, until tonight, you felt like there was nothing he could have done to make that night play out differently. But now you realize he could have anything, and it might have made a difference.

"Y/n, I understand if you hate me," Hoseok said softly, watching the tears that dripped down your cheek as you processed everything he told you.

"I wanted to honor Dawon's wish. I didn't expect you to do so much for me, for you to become my best friend and for you to make me feel normal. I kept this from you because you were the closest thing to her I had left. There was a time where I thought I would distance myself from you when you moved out. That I would just become another hazy detail to the tragedy, and you would move on completely with your life, but y/n you were so sad, and you needed me too.

When you moved out, I was terrified of something happening to you. I couldn't stop myself from checking up on you. I couldn't let us grow apart." Hoseok's voice broke off as you looked at him, the pain and betrayal in your eyes.

"Y/n, you're the closest thing I have to redemption, protecting you, being your friend is the last thread of humanity I have left, I can't lose you," he pleaded.

"You watched me blame myself," you whispered accusingly, your eyes shining with betrayal.

"You watched me tear myself apart, and used comforting me to make you feel better about yourself?"

He flinched at your words, "I tried everything I could to convince you there was nothing you could have done," Hobi argued feebly.

"Everything but tell the truth," you hissed as hot tears rolled down your cheek.

You got up as a sob escaped you, your face red and snot running from your nose. Hoseok stood with you, but you flinched away with a broken no.

"I need time, Hoseok," you begged.

You swallowed thickly as you did everything in your power to keep it together, "I don't want to hate you, but please, I need time to think about everything," you assured. Even knowing what he did, he was right. You needed him too. If you lost him, you truly didn't have anyone in the city who cared if you lived or died tomorrow. And maybe settling for that made you your own kind of monster.

It was funny how he claimed such a tarnished person could be his redemption.

You secure your bag to your shoulder, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door closed behind you. You couldn't even bring yourself to lock the door behind you, afraid that if you stopped moving for one second that you would completely break down and be unable to make it home. You only hoped Hoseok was smart enough to check the door behind you and make sure to lock it.

You counted the stairs as you made your descent and into the parking lot, making an effort to take in your surroundings. You tried to list off the colors of the cars as you passed them, and while some distant part of you did the action, you still felt like the effort wasn't reaching whatever corner of your brain you were hiding in.

You got a lot better with controlling your anxiety attacks as you made it further in college, even going as far as taking advantage of the university's free therapy sessions to get professional guidance in your junior year. You defaulted to your go-to grounding technique as your feet moved of their own accord to carry you home. 5,4,3,2,1 was an exercise that made you aware of your surroundings and tether yourself to this world when your mind felt a dimension away.

The technique walked you through your five senses, making you list off 5 things you could see, 4 things you could feel, 3 things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. Even in your most anxious moments, you were a slut for making a good list. You always found this exercise more soothing than any breathing technique.

Your eyes searched without really seeing as you tried to find five things you could see around you. Straining yourself to really take in your surroundings, you settled for a yellow fire hydrant, a car parked on the side of the road, a penny on the ground, a drainage inlet tucked into the curb, and finally your own yellow shoes pacing down the concrete sidewalk.

You were going to be okay, you reminded yourself as you took an intentional breath.

Next, four things you can touch, you focused on your breathing as you reached an arm out to graze your fingertips along with the rough brick of the building you walked by.

You shifted a little more with each step, concentrating on how the fabric of your clothes moved across your skin and curling your toes into the padding of your shoes. You didn't count each feeling, your wandering mind struggling to really take in each sensation, but you were sure you touched four things by now.

This was a mistake you often caught yourself making when counting down like this. Sometimes you were in such a rush to reach the end and get to one as if identifying one taste would magically make all your anxieties go away that you forget to take it slow and really center yourself.

Three things you can hear, it was at the time, as you strained to let the world in through the all-consuming pounding of your heart in your ears, that you realized you were whimpering to yourself slightly. The awareness of your own vulnerability made you stumble as your mind spiraled, and you struggled to find something to tether you back to the earth.

You began walking faster before realizing you're not certain you were going the right way. So you came to a halt, realizing you couldn't bring yourself to focus enough to take in your surroundings. You stared at the street sign for a long time, repeating the letters to yourself as you made them form a word finally settling on Gardenia.

Your breathing hitched as you realized you had wandered off the main streets and into a neighborhood in your daze. You were lost, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about it, and the lack of fear flashed an alarm in your mind that let you know you were too far gone to count away your anxieties.

You struggled to breathe as you tried to come up with a decision. You needed to ground yourself to calm down. You needed to list off 5 things you could see, fourth things you could feel, three things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. You knew the only way to bring yourself back to the world was to become aware of your settings.

But it felt as if the part of your brain that knew all these things didn't even touch whatever part of your mind was controlling you now. You were better off giving directions to the light pole you stood under.

You felt your breathing get harder as you desperately gasped in all the air you could. Your arms and legs began to tingle as your body over oxidized, and your head began to spin.

Slowly you slumped to the ground, wrapping your arms around the light pole you had stopped under as you spiraled.

What were you even doing before this moment? How did you even get here? You forced your eyes open wide, hoping the action would make you actually see and register what you were looking at to no avail.

What were you doing, what were you doing, what were you doing?

You struggled to reign in your thoughts of your laughing best friend and her crying brother. Or was it your crying best friend and his dead sister?

You were supposed to find three things you could hear. Your crying doesn't count. A more logical voice seemed to get through to you.

You strained your ears to hear past your own breathing, you could hear a frog croaking in the grass nearby, you felt the earth beneath you to confirm you had in fact settled in a patch of grass. You smiled to yourself proud of your progress as you continued to listen as you continued to listen. You heard the electricity buzzing in the light pole you had wrapped your arms around, you felt almost childlike as you opened your eyes. Actually, seeing this time as you looked up at the pole, you were around.

You needed one more sound, you strained your ears, expecting to be met with something like a far off car driving by. Instead, you heard your name being called. You blinked as you turned away from the street lamp and towards the repeating sound of a familiar set of syllables coming from a familiar voice.

Jungkook jogged up to as he saw you curled around a lamppost. Even from a distance, he could see the rapid way your chest was rising and falling in that familiar chaotic rhythm he only saw when he found Taehyung or Yoongi having a panic attack. You looked up at him with a tear-stained face and saw the confusion of his presence take you off guard and snap whatever control you had over yourself.

Your face crumpled as a sob broke from your chest, and you turned away from him and curled yourself around the light pole a little tighter.

Jungkook felt such a rush of guilt and panic at the sight of you so broken that he ignored the dull ache in his knees as he instinctively fell down in the grass next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the cold metal pole, trying to position comfortably in his chest.

Jungkook shifted as he uncurled his legs from beneath his body and stretched them out next to yours in front of him, trying to touch as much of his body to you in comfort. You didn't resist, but the jolting motions did seem to make you more upset for a short moment. Jungkook realized he forgot to ask for permission to touch you before he acted.

He knew Tae preferred physical comfort to calm down, but sometimes it could act more as a trigger when unwelcomed. He loosened his grip hesitantly, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him closer to you in response.

Physical contact is. He thought to himself as he began stroking one hand up and down your back and rocking you both side to side slightly as if he was trying to calm a baby from a tantrum.

Which he basically was doing, you thought bitterly to yourself as you accepted the comfort.

You were too far gone to calm yourself down. You had ridden the river of upsetting thoughts that triggered your attack all the way down, and now you risked floating out to sea and losing yourself forever. Not actually forever, just until you would cry yourself unconscious and wake up to start anew. But you supposed accepting comfort was better than sleeping outside in a neighborhood you didn't know.

Jungkook whispered to you, not the sweet nothings people typically say when they see people break down like 'it's going to be okay,' or most annoyingly 'breath.' No Jungkook simply told you, 'you're safe,' 'take your time,' 'you're stronger than you give yourself credit for' and in your case most importantly, 'exhale.'

When people see you having a panic attack and hear the loud gasp you make as you fight to breathe, they instinctively tell you to breathe as a way to calm down. But it's your failure to let the air out that keeps your body over oxidized, making it harder for you to feel in control of yourself.

Slowly, you regained control of your body, and your desperate gasps for air morphed into shallow panting. Your shallow breathing morphed into soft whimpers and sniffled. Jungkook held you as your continuous knit itself together, and you faced the pain your mind was so desperate to escape.

He rubbed you back as you let out soft sobs as you reopened wounds that had healed into jagged scars. You cried for Dawon and her undeserved death. For Hoseok and the guilt you knew, he carried every day. You cried for Kim Martin, who died at the hands of the killer that stole his son. You cried for yourself, over the fear of the future as you saw it grow intimately tangled with a notorious gang.

You don't know how long Jungkook waited as you reeled yourself back together. He waited long after you finished crying, knowing just because you had control of yourself physically didn't mean you were mentally ready to face the world, so he wrapped you in his warmth and hummed to himself as he rocked you both slowly.

You loosened and tightened your grip on his shirt and curled and uncurled your toes as you tried to become more aware of your body. You were basically sprawled out on the grass with your upper body twisted and pulled into Jungkook's middle. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you weren't willing to risk losing his warmth to move.

You licked your lips, and the jarring taste of your salty tears pulled you from your self pitying thoughts, deciding to work your way up the list you once again started to count.

One thing you taste, salt.

Two things you smell: you inhaled deeply and took in the smell of laundry detergent that clung to Jungkkook's shirt. "Detergent," you mumbled into his shirt, and the sound of a coherent word leaving you made Jungkook's humming stop as he looked down at you, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. He held in his chuckle as you stiffed the air again, and confidently said, "and grass."

You finally pulled yourself away from him only slightly to turn your face away from him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"I can hear frogs, cars nearby, and.. your heart," you listed as you looked up at him from under you thick lashes still clumped with tears, "it's louder than mine," you observed as you listened to the hammering in his chest.

He was from a different kind of nerves.

He recognized the countdown and realized you were working to ground yourself, "What can you feel?" he prompted eager to get you to move on from his pounding heart.

"Your t-shirt, it's soft, the grass poking at me through my jeans, my bra digging into me" you wrinkled your nose as you became aware of the discomfort.

"And?" Jungkook prompted. A smile curled your lips as you looked up at him mischievously, "You're abs," you giggled as you sat up, finally pulling away from him. Jungkook felt the heat crawl up his neck as he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

"And what do you see?" he asked gently, looking everywhere but you.

You smiled at his bashfulness as you look around, "I see the street sign, the green grass," you pause as you squint, "I think that's either a rock or some dog poop over there," Jungkook let out a startled laugh. You smiled to yourself proudly as you continued.

"Our shadows from the street light, and,” you pause realizing how close the two of you are, "the little mole underneath your lip."

"Good," he whispered, and you watched in fascination how his lips formed the words, "Are you ready to get up now, or do you need a few minutes?" he asked. It was the way his mouth twisted into a smile at the end of the sentence that made you realize you were still staring at his lips. You blinked before looking up at his eyes, which was alight with a teasing glint.

"I can stand," you answered, flustered as you pulled your body away from him. Maneuvering your feet beneath you to get up. Jungkook offered you a hand once he was up helping pull you to your feet, before bending down and grabbing your purse for you. Your feet still tingled in that pins and needles feeling. You wiggled your hands to wake up your fingers as well, but other than that, you felt like you recovered from the physical toll of the panic attack quite well.

"C'mon my place is at the end of this road, let me grab a car and drive you home," he offered.

You walked with him obediently, your hands brushing past each other twice before Jungkook's hand finally snatched yours mid-swing; you looked down and watched as your fingers intertwined with his effortlessly. You looked to him to see a change in his expression, but he looked straight ahead as he walked, acting as if nothing happened.

You smiled at yourself, thankful for the affection. You always did get a little clingy after panic attacks, relying heavily on skinship and the feeling of someone taking care of you as a way to feel calm. You were surprised how easy it was for you to let Jungkook fall into that roll despite barely knowing him. But you suppose in the handful of interactions the two of you shared, he's always prioritized your comfort and safety.

"This is your house?" you asked as you took in the massive white art deco house behind the gate you stopped in front of. The gate buzzed and rolled open for the two of you of its own accord and rolled open for the two of you.

Jungkook smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, kinda," he said with a shrug.

You raised a brow, "kinda?"

"It's complicated, c'mon let's get you home," he said with a tug reminding you that the two of you were still holding hands. You flushed but followed obediently as you made your way to the garage.

You squinted as your eyes were met with a flood of fluorescent light upon opening the door. A row of vehicles lined its way down the length of the garage, varying from sports car, to jeep, to a large black truck at the end of the row. A line of 4 motorcycles along the furthest wall.

"J-Hope sells Namjoon a car any chance he gets," Jungkook chuckled as he took in your awed expression.

"J-Hope?" you questions, and Jungkook's smile faltered.

"That's what we call Hoseok," he clarified.

You nodded in understanding, "Like how Taehyung goes by V?" you asked, and he nodded.

"Hoseok, does he sell drugs like V does?" you asked curious of what all Hoseok's gang involvement entailed.

Jungkook opened his mouth to answer but was cut off as the adjacent door slammed up from what looked to be inside the house, revealing a man in a black t-shirt with a mop of platinum blond hair.

"There you are," he practically growled as he stormed in the room.

The man was dwarfed by Jungkook a good bit, but somehow Jungkook seemed to cower and appear smaller as the man approached, dropping your hand as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't.

You looked at him curiously and wondered if he was.

"Yoongi hyung," he greeted as he tried to force a smile, "I was just about to-"

"Save it," he snapped, "I have half the army out looking for you, ya know," he turned his fury to you much to your surprise as he added "both of you."

Your mouth fell open, shocked by the confusion apparent on your face as he continued, "Do I need to babysit both of you, because believe it or not, she's taking up a lot of my time. I really can't handle you getting flakey on me Jungkook, we need to know that you're safe,"

Jungkook looked down as he lectured, murmuring a small apology.

"And you" Yoongi turned to you, "That goes for you too, the Black Tips are still on your tail, I can't do much for you if you go running off,"

"Hyung," Jungkook hissed. "Not now, please."

Yoongi blinked at his younger in surprise, turning to you and making a point to really look at you, and take you in. Your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face, the way you seemed to lean into Jungkook. He recognized that far off look in your eyes like you had to concentrate on being present in the moment, and Yoongi remembered the warning in Hoseok's earlier message when he told him you had run out.

"Yeah, okay, get her home and come straight back when you're done, we still need to talk," he said dismissively. None of your questions were answered, but you didn't resist as Jungkook put a hand on your back and guided you towards a nearby car.

"Good night, princess," Yoongi called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. Unlike with Jimin, you felt like you were being mocked when Yoongi called you that.

"Who was that, your brother, and why did he say he needs to babysit me?" you questioned as you both settled into the fine black vehicle the windows were so deeply tinted on the outside you wondered if it was safe to drive at night, but upon getting in the car, you noted that you could see through the windows clearly.

Jungkook waited until after he put the key in the ignition and backed out into the driveway before he started talking."That's Yoongi hyung or Suga, he's head of surveillance for BTS. He was the one who sent out a message to go escort you home when J– Hobi Hyung told him you were upset and left his apartment so late. I was on my way in that direction when I ran across you on our street," he said, breaking at a stop sign and turning on the blinker.

You looked out the window as you took in everything he's told you, noting that you were stopped again by the light pole you had a panic attack under. Suga was one of the original members in Hoseok's story. You thought to yourself as you connected the dots. Your head still felt a little foggy as you recovered from the literal mental breakdown. The sudden change of lighting earlier had started to make your head throb. You were ready for bed.

"Hobi sent people to look for me?" was all you could manage, not entirely understanding the emotions stirring in your chest.

"Well yeah, I mean, I was supposed to escort you home after work, and you kind changed plans, so we had to roll with them. I figured Hoseok would have taken you home after everything, so I didn't wait around. And then when Suga did send out the message I didn't notify them that I found you it was dumb on my part," he clarified.

You leaned onto the console between the two of you, propping your cheek upon your hand in a way that squished your lips into a slight pout. Jungkook tried not to stiffen as you got more in his space. Peeking down at you through his peripherals he saw your brow furrow as you processed everything.

"Why do you care?" you finally settled on asking as you still struggled to pinpoint why so many people would be worried about your safety.

Hoseok, you understood, to a certain extent, you even understood why he called in the favor. He knew your patterns and signs, you were probably shouting you were about to have an attack with your body language as you walked out the door. He knew he could never comfort you, not when he was the trigger. What you didn't understand was why BTS would listen.

"Because you're still not safe, and BTS took responsibility for your safety when I did," Jungkook said, simply turning to look at you as he stopped at a red light.

If you were in the right state of mind, such a comment would have triggered an immediate fight. You had been on your own for far too many years to suddenly need a whole gaggle of men to tend to you as if you were some helpless girl. You were a grown-ass woman. But you weren't yourself as you searched for a response in the fog of your mind.

"You're not responsible for anything about me?" you said softly as you shifted to rest your hand on your chin.

"Y/n what all did Hoseok hyung tell you?" Jungkook asked, confused, you weren't rejecting his protection, you just seemed oblivious. He assumed the cat was out of the back as soon as you learned what BTS was, who they were concerning you.

"Just how he joined BTS as how he ya know," you stuck your pointer finger and thumb in the air making soft 'pew pew' sounds. You couldn't bring yourself to talk seriously about the subject. Too much of this night had been severe for your liking.

"Y/n, you saved my life last week," Jungkook said, trying to look in your eyes and convey all his gratitude. You shifted under his stare.

"I wouldn't call it that," you murmured, turning away, "The lights green," you added flatly trying to turn his attention from you. He ignored you and placed a warm hand over yours.

"I would, and because of that, I and all of BTS owe you a life debt. We want to protect you as best as we can, especially since you're not totally safe from the guys you saved me from," he emphasized.

You looked up at him owlishly as you thought over everything he said. But whatever you were going to say died on your lips as a car honked its horn behind you. You both jumped startled, and the intensity of the moment evaporated slightly.

After a few moments of silence, you decided he didn't require a response. You can't imagine you would give a correct one anyways. You looked down at your hand, his larger one still resting atop your own and turned your wrist quickly and intertwining your fingers.

You rode in silence the rest of the way home, and you were fighting your eyelids as you pulled up to your complex.

Jungkook wondered if you always fell asleep in the car even with dangerous men. He wondered if that's why he never sees you take the bus at night.

"You really should consider living somewhere safer," Jungkook muttered under his breath as he shut off the engine.

You bit your tongue holding in several comments and gave a noncommittal 'mmm' as you unbuckled and stepped out the car to see he planned to walk you to your door again.

You grew embarrassed as you climbed the stairs and scrambled to think of parting words dwelling on everything Jungkook had done for you that night, "Thank you," you finally forced yourself to say. Jungkook looked down at you as you came to a halt in front of your door. "For earlier, with the crying and the counting," you offered awkwardly your eyes looking everywhere but his as you breached the sensitive topic.

"Oh, it wasn't a problem, really. I'm glad I could help" he laughed nervously, and you smiled, reaching for his hand before he could bring it to the back of his head, a nervous habit you were quickly picking up on him having.

"I'm serious Jungkook, a lot of people freak out and make the situation much worse for me, and I get it seeing someone crying like that it's never an easy thing to react to, but you did—" you hesitated as you searched for the right words, "You were good, comforting."

You didn't give yourself time to question it as you stood on your tiptoes, deciding to convey your gratitude in a way that your stuttering mouth wouldn't botch, and grazed a small peck aiming for his cheek. Unfortunately, the height difference and your own lack of balance had you landing more on his jawline. Jungkook gasped only slightly at the feeling of your soft lips on his jaw, the heat of your body radiating off of you in your nearness. You smiled at him again as you turned towards the door to unlock it.

"Haha yeah, happy to hear that," he responded, his voice crawling in pitch as he ordered his heart to beat, and you gave him another warm smile as you pushed open your door.

"Good night, Jungkook."

"Good night, Ella."

Jungkook's face split into a grin as you closed the door, a hand reaching for his jaw and pressing against where you kissed him as if it would simulate the feeling. His steps seemed to bounce as he made his way down the concrete stairs and back to his car.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading please tell me what you think! Your comments make me eager to write more :)

Pt.5 ->

#bts fic #jungkook x reader #bts mafia au #btsghostie #bangtanhq #btsbookclub #btsguild #bangtanscenery #bts gang au #gangster jungkook #gangster yoongi #gangaster taehyung #gangster hoseok #jungkook au #bestfriend hoseok #no harm list #crazy4myself fic #drug dealer teahyung #jungkook fluff

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cyancaddy · 6 years ago

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Cleon hints in the novels

Before I read the novels by S. D. Perry, I was aware that Aeon was as canon as it gonna get for Capcom. In my opinion, the original RE2 offered nothing that could be interpreted as attraction between Claire and Leon...I still liked them together nonetheless. The obsession I have with Claire and Leon first started when I read the novels. 13 year old me was beyond ecstatic when there were actual hints towards a possible romantic relationship between Claire and Leon (which I thought was a 1000 % canon back then, it was Capcom approved after all). Since I now know the novels can be considered as very well written fanfiction, I came to the realization that Ms Perry probably shipped them too. So without further ado, I tried to collect all the Cleon hints from the novels... which are mostly from "Underworld" and "Code Veronica".

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Underworld - Chapter One

David's thoughts

Rebecca was unloading clips and repacking the weapons, Leon and Claire sitting close together across from her, not talking. Those two were usually joined at the hip, and were still as tight as they'd been since David, John, and Rebecca had picked them up just outside of Raccoon less than a month earlier, dirty and damaged and reeling from their run-in with Umbrella. David didn't think there was a romantic connection there, at least not yet; it was more likely their shared nightmare. Nearly dying together could be quite a bonding experience. As far as David knew, Leon and Claire were the only survivors of the Raccoon disaster who knew about Umbrella's T-Virus spill.

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Underworld - Chapter Two

Leon's thoughts

And what about Leon Kennedy? He'd stumbled into the fight without a clue, a cop fresh out of the academy on his way to his first day at work - which just happened to be with the Raccoon PD. There was Ada, true - but he'd known her less than half a day, and she had been killed just after admitting to him that she was some kind of an agent, sent to steal a sample of an Umbrella virus.

So I lost a job, and a possible relationship with a woman I barely knew and couldn't trust. Of course Umbrella should be stopped... but do I belong here?

He'd decided to become a cop because he wanted to help people, but he'd always figured that meant keeping the peace - busting drunk drivers, breaking up bar fights, catching crooks. Never in his wildest dreams would he have figured on being caught up in an international conspiracy, cloak-and-dagger infiltration-type stuff against a giant company that made war monsters. It was crime on a much bigger scale than he felt he was ready for...... and is that the real reason, Officer Kennedy? At exactly that moment, Claire mumbled something from her light doze, nuzzling her head against his arm before falling silent and still again - and making Leon uncomfortably aware of another facet to his involvement with the ex-S.T.A.R.S. Claire.

Claire was... she was an incredible woman. In the days after their escape from Raccoon City, they'd talked a lot about what had happened, the experiences they'd had both separately and together. At the time, it had felt like an exchange of information, filling in blanks - she'd told him about her run-in with Chief Irons and the creature she'd called Mr. X, and he'd told her all about Ada and the terrible thing that had once been William Birkin. Between them, they'd been able to come up with a continuous story, with information that was important to the fugitive team. In retrospect, though, he could see that those long, rambling conversations had been essential for another reason entirely - they'd been a way to leach out the poison of what had happened to them, like talking out a bad dream. If he'd had to keep it all inside, he thought, he might have gone crazy. In any case, the feelings he had for her now were convoluted ones - warmth, connection, dependence, respect, others that he had no name for. And that scared him, because he'd never felt so strongly about anyone before and because he wasn't sure how much of it was real and how much was just some kind of a post-traumatic stress thing.

Face it, stop bullshitting yourself. What you're really afraid of is that you're only here because she is, and you don't like what that says about you.

Leon nodded inwardly, realizing that it was the truth, the real reason behind his uncertainty. He'd always believed that want was okay, but need? He didn't like the idea of being led around by some neurotic compulsion to be close to Claire Redfield.

And what if it isn't need? Maybe it's want, and you just don't know it yet...

He scowled at his own pathetic attempts at self-analysis, deciding that maybe it would be best just to stop worrying about it so much. Whatever the reason for becoming involved, he was involved - he could kick ass with the best of them and Umbrella deserved to have their ass kicked, big time. For now, he had to pee, and then he was going to eat something and do his best to catch some sleep. Leon gently moved out from beneath Claire's warm, heavy head, doing his best not to wake her up. He slid out into the aisle, glancing around at the others.

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Underworld - Chapter Five

Claire's and Leon's conversation

"Cold?" Leon asked. Claire turned away from the window, looking at him. He'd finished with the packs, and was holding one out to her. She took it, nodding in response to his question. "Aren't you?" He shook his head, grinning. "Thermal underwear. Could have used these in Raccoon..."Claire smiled. "How could I have used them? I was running around in a pair of shorts, you at least had your uniform. "Which was covered with lizard guts before I was halfway through the sewers," he said, and she was glad to hear him at least try to joke about it.

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Underworld - Chapter 5

Claire's thougts

Leon put his hand on Claire's shoulder. "You up for this?" he asked softly, and Claire smiled inwardly, thinking of how sweet he was; she'd been thinking of asking him the same thing. In the days since Raccoon, they'd gotten pretty close- and although she wasn't positive, she'd picked up on a few signals that suggested he wouldn't mind getting closer. She still wasn't sure if that was a good idea

and now's not the time to be deciding. The sooner we get this code book, the sooner we get to Europe. To Chris.

"As up as I'm gonna be," she said, and Leon nodded, and they climbed out into the freezing night to join the others.

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Underworld - Epilogue

With David and John supporting young Rebecca, and Leon and Claire smiling at one another like lovers, the five weary soldiers trudged off the screen and out into the gently blossoming Utah morning.

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Code Veronica- Chapter Four

Leon receives Claire's message from the island and tells Chris and Barry about it

Leon had turned out to be a half decent hacker, he was in the next room on the computer; he'd hardly slept since Claire's capture, most of his time spent trying to track Umbrella's recent movements.

With both their parents dead, he and Claire had developed a close relationship, and he thought he knew her pretty well; she was smart and tough and resourceful, always had been... but she was also a college student, for Christ's sake. Unlike the rest of them, she didn't have any formal combat training. He couldn't help thinking that she'd been lucky so far, and when it came to Umbrella, luck just wasn't enough.

"Chris, get in here!"

Leon, and it sounded urgent. Chris and Barry looked at each other, Chris seeing his own worry mirrored in Barry's face, and they both stood up. His heart in his throat, Chris hurriedly led the way down the hall to where Leon was working, feeling eager and afraid at once. The young cop was standing next to the computer, his expression unreadable. "She's alive," Leon said simply. Chris hadn't even been aware of how bad things had been for him until those two words. It was like his heart had suddenly been released after being gripped hi a vise for ten days, the sense of relief as physical as it was emotional, his skin flushing with it.

Alive, she's alive...Barry clapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "Of course she is, she's a Redfield."

Chris grinned, turned his attention back to Leon and felt his smile slipping at the cop's carefully neutral expression. There was something else. Before he could ask, Leon motioned at the screen, taking a deep breath. "They've got her on an island, Chris... and there's been an accident."

Chris was leaning over the computer in a single stride. He read the brief message twice, the reality of it slow to sink in.

Infection trouble approximately 37S, 12W following attack, perps unknown. No bad guys left, I think, but stuck at the moment. Watch your back, bro, they know the city if not the street. Will try to be home soon.

Chris stood up, silently locking gazes with Leon as Barry read the message. Leon smiled, but it looked forced. "You didn't see her in Raccoon," he said. "She knows how to handle herself, Chris. And she managed to get to a computer, right?" Barry straightened up, took his cue from Leon. "That means she's not locked down," he said seriously. "And if Umbrella's got its hands full with another viral spill, they're not going to be paying attention to anything else. The important thing is that she's alive."

Chris nodded absently, mind already working on what he would need for the trip. The coordinates she'd listed put her in an incredibly isolated spot, deep in the South Atlantic, but he had an old Air Force buddy who owed him, could jet him down to Buenos Aires, maybe Capetown; he could rent a boat from there, survival gear, rope, medkit, an assload of firepower... "I'm going with you," Barry said, accurately reading his expression. They'd been friends a long time. "Me, too," Leon said. Chris shook his head. "No, absolutely not." Both men started to protest, and Chris raised his voice, talking over them.

"You saw what she said, about Umbrella homing in on me, on us," he said firmly. "That means we have to relocate, maybe one of the estates outside the city - some-one has to stay here, wait for Rebecca's team to get back, and someone else needs to scout out a new base of operations. And don't forget, Jill will be here any day now."

Barry frowned, scratched at his beard, his mouth set in a thin, tight line. "I don't like it. Going in alone is a bad idea..." "We're at a crucial phase right now, and you know it," Chris said. "Somebody's got to mind the shop, Barry, and you're the man. You've got the experience, you know all the contacts." "Fine, but at least take the kid," Barry said, gesturing toward Leon. For once, Leon didn't protest the label, only nodded, drawing himself up, shoulders back and head high.

"If you won't do it for yourself, think about Claire,"Barry continued. "What happens to her if you get your - self killed? You need a backup, somebody to pick up the ball if you fumble."Chris shook his head, immovable. "You know better, Barry, this has to be as quiet as possible. Umbrella may have already sent in a cleanup crew. One person, in and out before anyone even realizes I'm there."

Barry was still frowning, but he didn't push it. Neither did Leon, although Chris could see that he was working up to it; the cop and Claire had obviously gotten pretty close.

"I'll bring her back," Chris said, softening his tone, looking at Leon. Leon hesitated, then nodded, high color burning in his cheeks, making Chris wonder exactly how close Leon and his sister had become.

Later. I can worry about his intentions if we make it back alive... when we make it back alive, he quickly amended. If was not an option. "It's settled, then,"

Chris said. "Leon, find me a good map of the area, geographical, political, everything, you never know what might help. Also post back to Claire, just in case she gets another chance to check for mes - sages - tell her I'm on my way. Barry, I want to be pack - ing major influence, but lightweight, something I can hike in without too much trouble, maybe a Glock... you're the expert, you decide."

Both men nodded, turned away to get started, and Chris closed his eyes for just a second, quickly offering up a silent prayer.

Please, please stay safe until I get there, Claire.

It wasn't much - but then, Chris had the feeling he would be praying a lot more in the long hours to come.

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Code Veronica - Chapter nine

Steve and Claire on the plane to Antarctica, Steve’s thoughts

He looked down at her, at her tousled hair and long lashes, his heart pounding even though he was trying to relax. She moved again, shifting in her sleep, her head tilting back a little and her slightly parted lips were suddenly close enough for him to kiss, all he had to do was tip his face down a few inches, and he wanted to so bad that he actually started to do it, lowering his mouth toward hers... "Mmmm," she murmured, still totally asleep, and he stopped, pulling back, his heart beating even faster. He totally wanted to but not like that, not if she didn't want him to. He thought she did, but she'd also told him a little about her friend Leon, too, and he wasn't so sure that they were just friends. Feeling tortured, having her so close but not his, he was relieved when she rolled away from him a few seconds later.

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quokkalatte · 6 years ago

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Shot for Shot [K.NJ]

Category: One Shot

Pairing: Mafia!Namjoon x Female!Reader

Summary: After seeing something you shouldn't have seen you were taken by a group of the most hostile Mafia tycoons, but what happens after is quite unexpected

Warnings: Gang Violence, mentions of blood, light smut, mentions of torture, torture, slight secular harassment

Warnings for this chapter: Gang violence, mentions of blood

Requested by: @yer-cute-when-you-scream

Authors note: sorry this took me so long to post!

[Based off my Number Scenarios 11, 13, 15, & 27]

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I was always told the nights of Seoul were the most dangerous and brutal time to be out. I never believed that. I found them to be serene and quiet, lacking the crazy, packed people coming and going and the loud honking of cars. I didn't realize that the quiet was simply a disguise used by those who knew how to maneuver through the city without notice and commit crimes that show up in the headlines of papers the next morning. And I didn't realize that I'd become part of those headlines.

It was the first actual warm night of the year. The dwindling winter being replaced by spring was apparent, there was even a slight buzz that singled spring rain. I'd just wanted to get some Happy Hour pancakes as a nearby diner. They were always half off on account of the time being so late and no one was really out and about as of the crime rate being high. Of course I was nieve. Sure I'd read about the tragic deaths and disappearances on the news. But I always thought 'that could never happen to me'. I was wrong.

The diner was mainly emptied save for a couple of college kids pushing some more hours of studying before finals. I'd eaten my pancakes and chatted with Hoseok, the only employee crazy enough to enjoy night shifts. He went on endlessly about his day and the different people coming in and I just smiled and nodded and put in my two cents. I just enjoyed hearing him talk, he always seemed to get excited for the smallest things people pass up on.

It was nearing one in the morning when I finally left the Diner, promising Hoseok I'd be there for breakfast the following morning. The air was warm and slightly humid and felt good against the bare skin of my arms. I put my hands in my pockets and turned the street corner towards my apartment. I walked passed an alleyway, and heard a commotion behind me, muffled grunts and a loud bang of a trashcan. I frown, turning around and glanced warily towards the opening of the alley. Every instinct told me to run, but I was always naturally curious, and it sounded like someone was being hurt. I approached the left side of the building, gripping the brick walls to peer around the corner, just a peek. To see what was going on.

There were three men, all dressed in black. One with a shock of bleach blonde hair, two others with black hair. They were kicking kicking a fourth man on the ground, stomping into his body and cries were muffled by a bandana shoved into his mouth. My eyes widened, and I covered my mouth to hide a gasp at the sight. The blonde grabbed the beaten man by his shirt and slammed him into the wall with such force I thought the building gave a small shake, but it was only me. I was so frozen stiff with fear for this poor man. The blonde pulled a gun from his hip and pressed it to the man's throat, a cold smirk on his face.

"Give a message to Anjo for me. This is what happens when I'm shorted. I want what I paid for, and then some to repay for this insult. I won't be this lenient again" He growls in a deep voice. The man nodded mutely, and the blonde stepped back, and with no one holding him uptight, the assaulted man fell to ground in a lump.

One of the black haired men took a drag of a cigarette, and flicked the ashes onto the fallen man and let out a chuckle. The blonde patted the two on the shoulder

"Come on let's go. Namjoon will want to hear our progress report" He says, and they turn for the entrance. I backed away from the wall, just as they came under the light of the street lamps. Of course they immediately saw me, and by the look of fear and shock on my face they all realized what I'd just seen. The blonde let out a angry cry and I turned heel and took off down the street.

My feet slammed on the pavement and I could hear the stomping of the men behind me. I turned down the block then cut through a small park. Trees rushed passed me as I tried to dodge their persuit, and I looked behind me to see that they were hot on my heels. Of course this meant I didn't see what was in front of me until I ran into the fence that enclosed the park. I let out a gasp of pain and I fell backwards and onto the ground, the breath knocked out me. They were on in an instant, grabbing me and dragged me to my feet. The blonde stood in front of me, surveying me. The one to my right spoke up

"What do we do Yoongi? She saw us" He said. The blonde, I guess the one called Yoongi, watched me carefully.

"We'll take her to Namjoon. It's his call" He says slowly, his face I passive.

"Please don't tell him" I begged, trying to tug out of my captor's grips. "I won't tell anyone"

"They always say that, and then they turn around and rat to the cops. No, we'll take to to our boss. It's his call" Yoongi says, and gestures for the other two to bring me to their van.

From then I was blindfolded and cuffed. I sat between two of them. Fear ate away at me and I shivered to imagine what their boss Namjoon would do to me. From the stories in the papers I've read, the mafia were never soft and forgiving. Witnesses were left in gutters and in dumpsters. This thought didn't settle my nerves and I was on the verge of tears.

They put me in a room, tied me to a chair and took the blindfold off. The room was dimly lit and there were mysterious stains on the floor, dark red and looked suspiciously like blood.

"Is that blood?" I whispered, horror in my tone.

"Among other things" Yoongi says, sounding bored. My eyes widened and I didn't dare speak again. A knock on the door signaled a fourth person had joined the three. When he walked in, my breath was taken away. His tan skin contrasted with his bleached hair. His suit was sharp his brown eyes were curious. His gaze was immediately on me, and he straighten up.

"Leave us" He says firmly and the three leave without a word. My eyes went to the floor, to the probable blood stains, which didn't help my heart rate. I could feel it in my throat, and I became very aware that this was the leader and then of all the things he could do to me. Tears welled in my eyes, that this may be the last night I'll ever live.

Gentle fingers pushed my chin up and I met soft eyes.

"Pretty girls shouldn't cry" He says, wiping away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. I whimpered at his touch, and he gripped my by my chin. "Yoongi tells me you saw the little show earlier tonight"

"I didn't mean to, really. I was walking home and heard noises in the alley" I mumble

"You should have kept walking princess. Save you some few trouble you've gotten yourself into" He says

"Now you tell me" I say, a slight whimper in my you voice. Namjoon nods, leaving away from me. He folded his arms over his chest, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Now I just have to decide what to do with you" he says, and my eyes widened.

"Please don't kill me" I whisper desperately. "I'll do anything, I swear" Namjoon raised his eyebrows.

"Anything?" He hummed, and I nodded "Well, how about a date then?" He asks. I stared at him in shock.

"W-What?" I gaped.

"You said anything. Let me take you out" he says.

"You don't want me to have sex with you? Or blow you or anything?" I say. He snorts

"We just met sweetheart. I'm not that type of guy. Let me take you to dinner and I'll let you live."

"O-Okay" I say, and Namjoon's face split into a wide smile, flashing his dimples happily.

"Excellent"

× × × × × ×

That was over a year ago. Namjoon drove me home that night, and picked me up later that day for a date. He was dressed casual, a button up blue shirt and black slacks.

"Where are you taking me?" I'd asked as he led me to a nice looking car.

"Dinner and a movie if that's alright with you kitten" He said, opening the door for me like a proper gentleman

The restaurant hadn't been overly fancy, Namjoon admitting that he had wanted to take me somewhere fancy, but his funds were short this month due to a few problems he didn't disclose. I told him that it was quite alright, flashy things made me uncomfortable, especially in the beginning of a date.

He had asked me questions, about myself and your hobbies, what classes I'd taken in college, small things. He listened intently, and even looked like he was interested in what I'd had to say.

"I wanted to do music," Namjoon told me when I'd'd ask what he did while in college . "But everyone seemed to tell me it was a dead end, so I dropped it" he shrugged, taking a bite of his food. I frowned, eyebrows nitting together.

"You shouldn't have given up if you wanted to do it" I say and he shrugs again

"It's okay. If I hadn't had dropped out, then I wouldn't have ended up taking the path I did. And I wouldn't have had the opportunity to meet" he smiled softly, and my cheeks flushing bright pink

"Namjoon we've only just met" I tried to argue "In the most weirdest of circumstances" His dimples came out as he grinned

"And I like you already. I consider myself lucky I got to take you out" he says, a tad but smugly

"You blackmailed me, remember?"I point out

"I don't see you complaining though" he retorts, and he had me there.

The movie wasn't some cheesy Rom Com or horror movie tatic to comfort the scared girl. It was an action comedy, right up my alley. It was like he knew me already. I enjoyed the movie and raved about it afterwards when Namjoon was driving me home. The entire time Namjoon remained quiet, a smile on his face as he listened to me. I had smack his arm lightly,

"Are you even listening?" I laughed and he smiled lightly

"I'm hanging on every word" He says truthfully

Hands wrapped around my waist, startling me and I dropped the dishes I'd been washing. There was deep chuckle from behind me, and a warm kiss was placed on my neck.

"Did mean to startle you kitten" he hummed. I smile, turning around in his arms and pressed a kiss to his awaiting lips. He pulled me closer and nuzzled into my neck when we pulled away. "What were you so deep in thought about?" He asked

"How we met" I say and he laughed, pressing another kiss into my neck

"I remember that. You were downright terrified and you looked so innocent and cute" I huff against his chest and felt the vibrations of a chuckle. He pressed a lingering kiss into my hair, and I knew that meant he was going out again.

"I'll be home late" he says, his words muffled by my hair. I frown, looking up at him.

"I thought you had the night off?" I ask, a bit disappointed. He'd been so busy lately and while I appreciated and respected what he did for a living, but I missed his warmth at night.

"I did but something came up. Anjo wants to have a.... calm discussion" His voice turned cold and I raise my eyebrows.

"Namjoon that worries me. There have been several disappearances as of late. Remember Taehyung was almost taken by his thugs just the other night." I say in protest. He sighs, fingers playing with the hem of my shirt and he nods.

"That's why we're meeting up. Come to some kind of agreement and get his goonies off our back. They did a number on Jimin, he's so jumpy now" My mind went to after Jimin had been taken and questioned a month ago. He was dumped behind my favorite Diner, bruised and bloody and shaking. He'd had a long cut down his face, a scar he'd probably have forever.

"I remember" I mumble. "You better be safe Kim Namjoon or I'll go in there myself and give Anjo a piece of my mind" I threaten, and Namjoon laughs, placing a kiss on my lips

"That's something I'd love to see. We'll be okay kitten don't you worry" We kissed, his head tilting to get a better angle. I let out a soft moan and he grunted, his hands gripping my hips. A knock on the door caused us to pull away, and a second later Yoongi and Jin walked in. Yoongi smirked when he saw us and Jin blushed darkly. "Bye kitten. I'll be home soon" Namjoon murmurs, before leaving with the other two.

I stepped out of the shower, wringing my hair dry and searched for my pajamas. I was worried for Namjoon, he'd been gone a couple of hours and while I knew that it may take longer, until he came home.

I slipped on one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts before climbing into bed. I scrolled through my phone, trying to pass the time before I was tired enough to fall asleep. A creaking noise caused me to freeze. I stared at my closed door, and heard another creak. I turned off my phone, hand slipping under the mattress for the gun Namjoon had put down there in case I needed help. I gripped it, flipping off the safety and tried to calm my pounding heart.

The creaks grew louder, mixed with the sounds of heavy footsteps. The door slammed open and I screamed, aiming the gun and squeezing the trigger. The bang was loud, and jolted me off the bed. The man gave a cry, and clutched at his shoulder. Two more men came in, and I aimed at them. One was quicker, and grabbed my wrist and twisted it until I cried out and dropped the gun. The other came and grabbed me around during the middle and I kicked and screamed, scratching at his back. He hissed in pain and I kneed him in the gut and it sent us both crashing to the ground.

I shoved past as one tried to grab me and I took off down the hall and out the broken down front door. I heard thuds and curses as I knew they were following me. I ran down the steps two at a time, and I ran out the apartment lobby. A dark van was parked there and I skidded to a halt, the bottoms of my feet scratching against the asphalt. Two more men got out of the car, and lunged at me. They grabbed me and I fought against them, biting and scratching and raising bloody murder. In the distance I saw a familiar figure walking down the road and I screamed as they shoved me into the van. The other three men clambered in after me and the van took off with a screech down the road.

#bts #bts jin #bts rap monster #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts ships #bts smut #bts suga #bts jhope #bts j-hope #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts v #bts yoongi

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duanecbrooks · 8 years ago

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Black Being Beautiful It's another old-time flick, having been made an entire year before The Grasshopper, specifically in--hold on to your hat--1968. Its female lead is a woman who has long, long, long since devolved to Trivial Pursuit-question status, namely Diahann Carroll (Its male lead, Jim Brown again, has, as has been pointed out before, a very successful career as an entrepreneur, not to mention considerable visibility as a rather simplistic, indeed, flat-out shrill Black Spokesperson). Having been made in 1968, its cinematic style and sensibility, not to mention the makeup of most, if not all, of its characters would likely be considered mightily passé, even, considering the fact that these days, political correctness is running rampant, prehistoric. Yet be that as it may... The fact is, The Split, which, thanks as usual to my greatly-cherished DVD player I've seen several times, is a quite gripping, very well-paced heist flick, easily carrying you along on its wavelength, easily causing you to accept its reality. And not once, not once, while watching it does your attention flag or you lose interest in its characters. Let's specify... ��Split kicks off with a wide-angle shot of a dirt road. Before long, it hones in on this car conking out, carrying this majorly hunky black dude, who, as we'll come to discover, is said picture's central character, McClain (Brown). He tries for a while to fix the car but eventually opts to riding a bus, which we see stopping in front of this rather ramshackle motel. McClain gets off and goes inside and is (in time) joyously greeted by its proprietor, Gladys (Julie Harris). He first asks about his ex, Ellie--whom we'll soon meet--and is bluntly told: "She moved. I haven't seen her." When asked about his future plans, McClain gives an answer that in sum tells the point of the entire picture: "Just one big job. That's all I want." We then see the aforementioned Ellie (Carroll) on the phone, enveloped in shock, obviously being told that her ex is back. Next we see the former couple in bed, lying warmly up against each other, obviously having Done The Deed. We quickly get the message that their history being together was far from happy (Ellie: "I kept on dreaming. And one morning I woke up and you weren't there. That was one morning too many." McClain: "If I'm not here, what the hell were you just doing [in having sex with me]?" This causes Ellie to angrily slap McClain's face). There's further dialogue between them (Ellie: "I'm weak with you...That's my problem...You want to see me crawl. You want to see me so weak I can't stand any more"; interestingly, given that, as has been mentioned, this was 1968, Ellie in time calls McClain: "You black son of a bitch!"), and then we cut to McClain casing the place the latter intends to hit, namely a football stadium where there's scheduled to be a face-off involving the Rams and the Packers (Gladys: "There's 80 thousand seats in the place." McClain: "And that's a lot of money"). Let's continue. Following are scenes wherein McClain "tests" the fellows he wants to include in the upcoming heist, namely Clinger, Kifka, Marty, and Negil (Ernest Borgnine, Jack Klugman, Warren Oates, and Donald Sutherland, respectively) by putting them through various paces--dropping in on Clinger and initiating a fight, initiating an open-road car chase with Kifka, et al. When the team McClain wants and Gladys are gathered together, we discover that there's certainly, definitely no love lost between McClain and the guys (Negil: "[McClain is] a big black idiot." Marty: "If there's one thing I don't have time for, it's a smart-ass nigger!"). Yet when our hero at last finally shows up they all fall into line and it's agreed that the money will be stashed at Ellie's place (Gladys: "Ellie's clean. And the cops have nothing on McClain"). Next up is a rather engaging montage wherein McClain and Ellie are walking side-by-side along different places, including the beach with Ellie carrying her heels (McClain: "I'll be with you [after the heist] because that's where I want to be"). At last finally the day of the heist arrives, with McClain and Co. seizing the take while holding several guards and several stadium employees--among them the longtime comedic actor Jackie Joseph--at gunpoint and getting away with the help of McClain and Kifka masquerading as ambulance drivers. Then, as Ellie is lying on top of her bed reading, she, and we, hear a knock upon her door. Upon opening it, in comes McClain with the stolen gains, making it clear his intent to stash them at Ellie's. After her expressing understandable consternation ("You're using me, Mac"), we see McClain seduce Ellie by first taking her up in his arms, then throwing her upon the bed and having his way with her, with her (lovingly?) caressing the money that McClain has thrown upon her bed. Following are McClain and Ellie (obviously) fully under the covers and the phone ringing. Ellie gets it and hands it to her ex, as it's for him. Next we see McClain and Clinger, while playing pool, making plans to get together later with the rest of the gang and divvy up the cash. Next: We see Ellie's ever-horny landlord Sutro (James Whitmore) sneak into her apartment and, while our girl is combing her hair in front of the mirror, approach her, supposedly about the rent. Yet, as time goes on, it becomes abundantly clear that what Sutro really and truly wants is not rent money but Ellie herself--as evidenced by the frequent close-ups of her bosom area and her upper-thighs area. Before long Sutro gives in to his lust and grabs Ellie. There's a struggle, she manages to knee him and she opens the lower shelf of her drawer, where, we find, there's weaponry stashed. Yet Sutro catches her, throws her upon the bed, and himself gets hold of a machine gun lying inside the drawer. Sutro winds up fatally machine-gunning Ellie, seizing all the money, and throwing a sheet over her dead body. Split goes on. When McClain arrives at Ellie's apartment and discovers her corpse, he is of course devastated. Then he opens the drawer and sees that the money, all of it, has been taken, which also knocks him for a loop. The police--having been called by Sutro, who has alerted them to Ellie's murder--show up, McClain manages to get away and, upon re-uniting with the gang, discovers, along with us, that they are in no sense happy campers (Gladys: "You've humiliated me, McClain." Marty: "As you can see, you're on the spot, boy"). We then see that the police detective Walter Brill (Gene Hackman) has been assigned to investigate Ellie's murder (and also see a newspaper headline that fully reflects the fact that this was 1968: "LANDLORD SLAYS NEGRO BEAUTY"), McClain is for a while tortured by the rest of the gang--while his arms are being held down, Clinger smacks his exposed stomach with a soaking-wet rope--McClain manages to escape--with Gladys getting accidentally and fatally shot in the process--and winds up cornering Brill in his home. At first Brill resists McClain's pressure ("the former to the latter: "There isn't a man in the force who will rest if anything happens to one of their own"), yet comes to bend under McClain's prodding (McClain to Brill: "You curl up pretty fast for a cop, don't you?"). Brill comes to throw in with McClain, the latter assuring him that he's the best bet to getting the dough ("There are three others [in the gang], but if you deal with me, you might live to spend that money"), there's a shootout in a deserted area between McClain/Brill and the other gang members, said team winds up killing them all, and the ending of the picture is genuinely unusual. It's comprised of McClain being about to board a plane and stopping upon hearing...Ellie's voice. So there's The Split, in all a marvelously taut, marvelously absorbing crime flick. Whitmore chillingly embodies the ever-lustful, ever-creepy Sutro. Hackman lends his monumental presence and his monumental acting skill to the role of Brill. The two white chicks of Split--Joyce Jameson as Girl-Girl, a jolie laide whom Oates's character hooks up with early on and Joseph--are, respectively, enticingly sexy and enticingly charming. All the backup gang members come through magnificently in the acting department; there's never, ever a false note concerning any of them. As scenarist, Robert Sabaroff comes up with many meaty, pithy exchanges for McClain and the principals in his life to engage in. And director Gordon Flemyng consistently keeps the action moving, never allowing anything to flag (Said scene between Sutro and Ellie deserves special mention, being an entirely blood-curdling combination of adroit camera placement and adroit editing. Also: Apparently Brown and Flemyng didn't exactly click as work colleagues. In his through-the-roof-selling personal/professional memoir, Borgnine reported that the latter, on the final day of shooting, went up to the former and--according to Borgnine, echoing his own feelings--told him: "If you were the last actor on Earth, I would never work with you again"). And now we come to Brown and Carroll. While their acting in The Split, frankly, leaves much to be desired, their stylish good looks, their forceful sexiness, and their awe-inspiring physiques save the day. Their scenes together are aflame with their physical spice and their physical grace. The fact is, The Split is further proof of a point I (I hope) have made before: that theatrical films were at their best when they were a visual medium, when they wholly put aside aesthetic considerations and simply presented gorgeous, muscular/shapely performers whose physical beauty and unyielding sexiness majorly turned us on (To make another point I hope I've made in the past: While television is up to its neck in intellectual and creative barrenness, it shines as a visual medium. There's no blah about the director or about any of its products' Importance. All that's needed is to get whatever Baywatch Babe on-camera showing skin or get Kerry Washington on-camera, period and the winning score is made). �� It was a 1970s writer who asserted that Carroll and her then-Julia-co-star Fred Williamson (remember him?; I didn't think so) "embody perfection." With regard to The Split, it is Carroll and Brown who are the real and the true embodiment of perfection. And are added proof, assuming any more is needed, of the sanctimonious guilt-bingeing and the complete meaningless of the "issue" of "looksism."

#the grasshopper #1968 #Diahann Carroll #Jim Brown #enterpreneur #the split #dvd player #julie harris #football stadium #james whitmore #gene hackman #joyce jameson #gordon flemyng #visual medium #television #julia #fred williamson #perfection

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