Minion
ʚ Title: Minion for glassfromscars ♡
ʚ Pairing(s): Yixing/Kyungsoo
ʚ Rating: PG-13
ʚ Warnings: mentions of gang activity, mentions of 'disposal'
ʚ Word Count: 2,346 words
ʚ Summary: One should never worry about their minions, except if you can't help it.
ʚ Message for your recipient/author note: I tried my hardest T_T I'm so sorry if this wasn't what you expected
One a dark and stormy night, the swirling clouds had just gathered, obscuring the starry night sky that usually shone it’s brightness onto the city below. Strong gusts of wind blew through the streets, catching loose newspapers and leaves, swirling them into a tornado of rubbish. Straggling people caught out at that time rushed home, hailing cabs or dashing from shelter to shelter under a flapping broken umbrella. No one wanted to be caught out in the storm that was about to come. It was under this cover that a man was silently pushed into a van, the rain and wind pelting against the metal of the vehicle like thunderous drums.
While the wind pounded outside, a shadow sat at a throne-like feature in the middle of a platform at the back of a warehouse. The inside was cold and dark, the only light were the faint flickering from the lights of the dock outside. The small yet imposing figure sat comfortably, a dark silk robe draped over the figure, hiding them completely from the eyes of the men and women in the warehouse. They all knew the figure to be “The Boss” but no one save for the right-hand man, Lay, has seen him or her. Rumours floated around saying that under the robe was someone who was severely injured, body and face so mangled that no one could look upon it and not hurl up their stomach contents.
Fluorescent lights shined outside the warehouse, signalling to the arrival of the van. The metal doors slid open with a groan, screech being deafened by the howling storm outside. The van skidded to a stop, dripping a puddle of water onto the concrete ground inside the warehouse. The door was flung open, hands shoving a body out of the van. A man sprawled against the ground, whimpering behind the cloth gag as he tried to struggle out of the rope that bound his wrists, the bag draped over his head scratching against his skin as he wiggled on the ground pathetically. The doors were pulled closed and the warehouse was cast into darkness once more. Using the light off a phone screen, one of the henchmen from the van tugged the thick bag off, the captured man tossing his head around trying to determine his location.
The lights flickered on, large bright beams shining down to reveal what looked to be a large communal area. On the right was a series of couches and beanbags, meticulously put together too look both a mess but a work of art at the same time, all facing towards a large flat screen placed against a makeshift wall. Next to that was stacks and stacks of thick boxes, all locked and draped with a tarp. Opposite the warehouse, a row of vehicles lay hidden underneath thick plastic sheeting to protect it from wearing out, various shapes showing just how many different types laid ready for use. A large semi-trailer container truck, a small flatbed truck, a large Mercedes van, a spot that was probably for the smaller Toyota Hi-ace van they had used to transport the man, a small sedan and what looked like a cluster of motorcycles. Next to the vehicles sat a large metal container, perhaps used to transport illegal goods or to pack themselves into for a fast getaway. Towards the back corner of the warehouse, a temporary kitchen was set up while the laundry was in a back room somewhere and the bathroom was in that obscure back area as well. In the rafters above, temporary tent-like rooms had been set up for gang members privacy, the ones that didn’t have homes to go to or needed a place to be alone would come there. Most of the members were well-respected members of the public, they weren’t a menace, they just made the police’s lives hard. The leader of them all was the mysterious shadow clad in black silk, an imposing figure upon the makeshift throne of cushioned metal boxes, the one whisper of their name sending shivers down people’s spines, Black Dragon. Beside the leader was the tall, lanky figure of Lay, the most feared yet loyal right-hand of the leader, people say that reasoning with him is like reasoning with Death himself. No one knew his real face, it was always covered by a black face mask, only his slanted eyes under a black fringe showed his Asian heritage.
The loud yet muffled screaming could be heard throughout the warehouse, the man’s eyes wide and stricken with fear as he tried to get up, his bound limbs allowing little movement, making him look like a fish out of water. Masked men and women laughed and surrounded him, cracking their knuckles and nudged each other out of the way to get to the front, waiting for the signal to begin their assault. The room fell silent, tension hung in the air and everyone looked up to the Black Dragon, not a single movement was seen and the place was so quiet that they could hear the sound of a water droplet drip from a hole in the ceiling. There was a gentle slide of fabric, a delicately gloved hand raising to motion at Lay, the man stepping forward to almost sneer down at the cowering victim.
“Mr Jung, we have been informed that you have sold yourself to the police to redeem yourself from dealing us with weapons these past two years. Fortunately for us, the policeman you filled out the details with was actually one or our agents. Unfortunately, it seems we would have to dispose of you and find ourselves a new dealer. Of course your family won’t be hurt physically but how well do you think your children would take the news that their father was found….floating in the river?”
The man sobbed and shook his head, eyes begging as he crawled to his knees and bowed his head, as if asking for a second chance. Lay turned his head to glance back at the shadowy figure, a shake of their head had him sighing and turning back to the henchmen and women. With a flick of his wrist, the men and women scrambled forward, pulling out various weapons that laid at their disposal. With whooping and cheering, they shambled into the vehicles when a tall, buff man covered Mr Jung’s head with a black cloth bag, pushing and shoving at the man into the back compartment of a rickety sedan. The two people left behind watched the van and sedan drive out of the warehouse, hoots and honks sounding in their wake. Once the cars had driven out of sight, the figure on the throne got up and glided to the back rooms where they slipped into a luxurious sports car, a sleek black BMW with tinted windows and white stickers of various animes and JRock bands that lined the back windows. Lay stood by, waving curtly as the car pulled out of the warehouse, sighing as he closed the doors of the warehouse, the metal creaking and groaning as it strained under the pressure of moving. Going around to the side, the young man tugged on the thick tarp covering a wonky shape hidden in the shadows of the building. It fell away to reveal a black motorcycle, an old thing that once belonged to his grandfather that had long moved back to his home country along with his grandmother. It took a few tries before the engine rumbled to life, the young man pulling on his helmet and drove away from the wharf on a bike that stuttered every few meters.
***
The sun was high in the sky, bird flitting back and forth from tree to tree around the college campus as students lingered here and there, some on their way to classes and some relaxing on their break between classes. Small vendors lined the large campus park, selling their snacks and lunches for the students who were in too much of a rush to pack their own food that morning. At the gates, a boy stood waiting, eyes flicking to his watch every few minutes as he waited for someone to arrive.
Down the road, a red car pulled into the curb, the passenger door opening and a shiny black platform shoe appeared, followed by another to land on the pavement. The feet that were in the shoes and the person’s legs were covered in white thigh-high socks with pink rose prints. Black shorts with lace frills clung tightly to the girl’s hips and a light pink silk blouse covered her torso, the big ruffles accentuating her chest and black vest hugging her waist to show off that s-line of hers. Thick black locks hung in ribbon curls down her back, held up by a large pink and black bow. Her bangs were cut straight and two strands were curled to frame the sides of her round face. Perfectly sculpted eyebrows sat above wide eyes framed with black eyeliner and false lashes, coloured contacts gleaming in the light as she blinked adorably like a lost puppy. A small button nose was set in the middle of her face above a set of thick luscious lips that were glossed over with the perfect shade of pink to match her outfit. On her back, she wore a black leather backpack with detachable wings.
“Kyungsoo I don’t understand why you have to dress like that just to go to college, just look at all the other kids. Why can’t you be like them?”
A disapproving woman’s voice spoke from inside the car, the girl rolling her eyes and turning away with a huff, as if she’s heard the same complaints all the time (in which she did).
“How will you ever find a proper man like that? Since when did you even dress like that? Why? Where do you even get the money? I cut your allowance down 5 months ago.”
The woman continued to complain, Kyungsoo just sighing and muttering a soft ‘yeah, yeah, Bye mom’ before shutting the door with a slam. The clicking of her shoes on the pavement alerted the boy of her arrival, his blank face breaking into a smile upon seeing her dressed up so adorably. Yixing was older than Kyungsoo by two years, currently studying business and commerce in college while Kyungsoo was in fashion and design. He was a chinese exchange student that had fallen in love with the shy girl in the neighbouring high school, he pursued her for half a year before he had finally stolen her heart with a serenade in the middle of the street. They had been dating for 4 years and counting, though no one would have predicted that Kyungsoo would soon grow up into a cute but hot young lady. While she dressed up extravagantly despite her family’s status, Yixing dressed down.
He was from a well off family, getting more than enough allowance per week to spend but chose to wear a simple sweater and trackpants complete with sneakers to college instead. He was tall and lanky, as expected from one of the most popular students in the dance club, with a thin face and sharp jawline. His eyes said otherwise, always set in a tired daze, people often wondered if he was sleepy or taking something illegal. Those eyes sat above a sharp nose and thin lips, quite opposite of what Kyungsoo looked like. Not that Yixing cared, he was a loyal and caring boyfriend that had most girls envying Kyungsoo who in turn made the other boys jealous of Yixing.
“Xing Xing~” Kyungsoo sing-songed sweetly as she bounced up to him, arms already outstretched to hug him around the neck. As if on cue, his hands found her waist and he lifted her high in the air. “Xing, I heard they have the new Purple Chandelier range in today! Do we have funds to go shopping?”
Yixing smiled gently, his eyes sparkling mysteriously as he leaned down to her ear.
“We have more than enough, though I do have to tell you that I have to meet with the Red Dragons to discuss our turf assignment again since the new gangs have been popping up and stealing our areas.”
Kyungsoo pulled back with wide eyes, there were times where she was nervous but the only times she was scared was days like this where Yixing had to go off alone. That’s right, despite her boyfriend’s rich status, Kyungsoo had wanted to be able to afford her own clothes and earn her own money. What started out as a small test project turned into a gang and soon, the more experienced mobsters approached them for recruitment. Sometimes Kyungsoo cursed her love for expensive Japanese fashion, until she puts them on. At Yixing’s request, she had hidden herself behind a dark veil, hiding her gender and identity from her minions and the opposing gangs. Yixing had taken a different name, deciding on Lay and staying by her side as the right hand man. All of Kyungsoo’s subordinates were loyal, she had made sure, but she had never had to worry about Lay. But unfortunately, his loyalty was what worries her the most, mainly when he and the third in command would have to go to negotiate with the next largest gang in the city for the sharing of the turf. If something went wrong in one of the meetings, Kyungsoo would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Yixing. That is why she often tries to convince him to withdraw.
“But Xing, can’t we get Suho to do it instead? You know how nice he is, they would never hurt him. We can go shopping then catch that new Hobbit movie!”
With whines and tugs, Kyungsoo was lead into college by an amused Yixing. Though she worries about him, he liked it no other way, he was ready to do anything to give her what she wanted.
“Oh look! Cheese tteokbokki!”
ʚ Pairing(s): Yixing/Kyungsoo
ʚ Rating: PG-13
ʚ Warnings: mentions of gang activity, mentions of 'disposal'
ʚ Word Count: 2,346 words
ʚ Summary: One should never worry about their minions, except if you can't help it.
ʚ Message for your recipient/author note: I tried my hardest T_T I'm so sorry if this wasn't what you expected
One a dark and stormy night, the swirling clouds had just gathered, obscuring the starry night sky that usually shone it’s brightness onto the city below. Strong gusts of wind blew through the streets, catching loose newspapers and leaves, swirling them into a tornado of rubbish. Straggling people caught out at that time rushed home, hailing cabs or dashing from shelter to shelter under a flapping broken umbrella. No one wanted to be caught out in the storm that was about to come. It was under this cover that a man was silently pushed into a van, the rain and wind pelting against the metal of the vehicle like thunderous drums.
While the wind pounded outside, a shadow sat at a throne-like feature in the middle of a platform at the back of a warehouse. The inside was cold and dark, the only light were the faint flickering from the lights of the dock outside. The small yet imposing figure sat comfortably, a dark silk robe draped over the figure, hiding them completely from the eyes of the men and women in the warehouse. They all knew the figure to be “The Boss” but no one save for the right-hand man, Lay, has seen him or her. Rumours floated around saying that under the robe was someone who was severely injured, body and face so mangled that no one could look upon it and not hurl up their stomach contents.
Fluorescent lights shined outside the warehouse, signalling to the arrival of the van. The metal doors slid open with a groan, screech being deafened by the howling storm outside. The van skidded to a stop, dripping a puddle of water onto the concrete ground inside the warehouse. The door was flung open, hands shoving a body out of the van. A man sprawled against the ground, whimpering behind the cloth gag as he tried to struggle out of the rope that bound his wrists, the bag draped over his head scratching against his skin as he wiggled on the ground pathetically. The doors were pulled closed and the warehouse was cast into darkness once more. Using the light off a phone screen, one of the henchmen from the van tugged the thick bag off, the captured man tossing his head around trying to determine his location.
The lights flickered on, large bright beams shining down to reveal what looked to be a large communal area. On the right was a series of couches and beanbags, meticulously put together too look both a mess but a work of art at the same time, all facing towards a large flat screen placed against a makeshift wall. Next to that was stacks and stacks of thick boxes, all locked and draped with a tarp. Opposite the warehouse, a row of vehicles lay hidden underneath thick plastic sheeting to protect it from wearing out, various shapes showing just how many different types laid ready for use. A large semi-trailer container truck, a small flatbed truck, a large Mercedes van, a spot that was probably for the smaller Toyota Hi-ace van they had used to transport the man, a small sedan and what looked like a cluster of motorcycles. Next to the vehicles sat a large metal container, perhaps used to transport illegal goods or to pack themselves into for a fast getaway. Towards the back corner of the warehouse, a temporary kitchen was set up while the laundry was in a back room somewhere and the bathroom was in that obscure back area as well. In the rafters above, temporary tent-like rooms had been set up for gang members privacy, the ones that didn’t have homes to go to or needed a place to be alone would come there. Most of the members were well-respected members of the public, they weren’t a menace, they just made the police’s lives hard. The leader of them all was the mysterious shadow clad in black silk, an imposing figure upon the makeshift throne of cushioned metal boxes, the one whisper of their name sending shivers down people’s spines, Black Dragon. Beside the leader was the tall, lanky figure of Lay, the most feared yet loyal right-hand of the leader, people say that reasoning with him is like reasoning with Death himself. No one knew his real face, it was always covered by a black face mask, only his slanted eyes under a black fringe showed his Asian heritage.
The loud yet muffled screaming could be heard throughout the warehouse, the man’s eyes wide and stricken with fear as he tried to get up, his bound limbs allowing little movement, making him look like a fish out of water. Masked men and women laughed and surrounded him, cracking their knuckles and nudged each other out of the way to get to the front, waiting for the signal to begin their assault. The room fell silent, tension hung in the air and everyone looked up to the Black Dragon, not a single movement was seen and the place was so quiet that they could hear the sound of a water droplet drip from a hole in the ceiling. There was a gentle slide of fabric, a delicately gloved hand raising to motion at Lay, the man stepping forward to almost sneer down at the cowering victim.
“Mr Jung, we have been informed that you have sold yourself to the police to redeem yourself from dealing us with weapons these past two years. Fortunately for us, the policeman you filled out the details with was actually one or our agents. Unfortunately, it seems we would have to dispose of you and find ourselves a new dealer. Of course your family won’t be hurt physically but how well do you think your children would take the news that their father was found….floating in the river?”
The man sobbed and shook his head, eyes begging as he crawled to his knees and bowed his head, as if asking for a second chance. Lay turned his head to glance back at the shadowy figure, a shake of their head had him sighing and turning back to the henchmen and women. With a flick of his wrist, the men and women scrambled forward, pulling out various weapons that laid at their disposal. With whooping and cheering, they shambled into the vehicles when a tall, buff man covered Mr Jung’s head with a black cloth bag, pushing and shoving at the man into the back compartment of a rickety sedan. The two people left behind watched the van and sedan drive out of the warehouse, hoots and honks sounding in their wake. Once the cars had driven out of sight, the figure on the throne got up and glided to the back rooms where they slipped into a luxurious sports car, a sleek black BMW with tinted windows and white stickers of various animes and JRock bands that lined the back windows. Lay stood by, waving curtly as the car pulled out of the warehouse, sighing as he closed the doors of the warehouse, the metal creaking and groaning as it strained under the pressure of moving. Going around to the side, the young man tugged on the thick tarp covering a wonky shape hidden in the shadows of the building. It fell away to reveal a black motorcycle, an old thing that once belonged to his grandfather that had long moved back to his home country along with his grandmother. It took a few tries before the engine rumbled to life, the young man pulling on his helmet and drove away from the wharf on a bike that stuttered every few meters.
***
The sun was high in the sky, bird flitting back and forth from tree to tree around the college campus as students lingered here and there, some on their way to classes and some relaxing on their break between classes. Small vendors lined the large campus park, selling their snacks and lunches for the students who were in too much of a rush to pack their own food that morning. At the gates, a boy stood waiting, eyes flicking to his watch every few minutes as he waited for someone to arrive.
Down the road, a red car pulled into the curb, the passenger door opening and a shiny black platform shoe appeared, followed by another to land on the pavement. The feet that were in the shoes and the person’s legs were covered in white thigh-high socks with pink rose prints. Black shorts with lace frills clung tightly to the girl’s hips and a light pink silk blouse covered her torso, the big ruffles accentuating her chest and black vest hugging her waist to show off that s-line of hers. Thick black locks hung in ribbon curls down her back, held up by a large pink and black bow. Her bangs were cut straight and two strands were curled to frame the sides of her round face. Perfectly sculpted eyebrows sat above wide eyes framed with black eyeliner and false lashes, coloured contacts gleaming in the light as she blinked adorably like a lost puppy. A small button nose was set in the middle of her face above a set of thick luscious lips that were glossed over with the perfect shade of pink to match her outfit. On her back, she wore a black leather backpack with detachable wings.
“Kyungsoo I don’t understand why you have to dress like that just to go to college, just look at all the other kids. Why can’t you be like them?”
A disapproving woman’s voice spoke from inside the car, the girl rolling her eyes and turning away with a huff, as if she’s heard the same complaints all the time (in which she did).
“How will you ever find a proper man like that? Since when did you even dress like that? Why? Where do you even get the money? I cut your allowance down 5 months ago.”
The woman continued to complain, Kyungsoo just sighing and muttering a soft ‘yeah, yeah, Bye mom’ before shutting the door with a slam. The clicking of her shoes on the pavement alerted the boy of her arrival, his blank face breaking into a smile upon seeing her dressed up so adorably. Yixing was older than Kyungsoo by two years, currently studying business and commerce in college while Kyungsoo was in fashion and design. He was a chinese exchange student that had fallen in love with the shy girl in the neighbouring high school, he pursued her for half a year before he had finally stolen her heart with a serenade in the middle of the street. They had been dating for 4 years and counting, though no one would have predicted that Kyungsoo would soon grow up into a cute but hot young lady. While she dressed up extravagantly despite her family’s status, Yixing dressed down.
He was from a well off family, getting more than enough allowance per week to spend but chose to wear a simple sweater and trackpants complete with sneakers to college instead. He was tall and lanky, as expected from one of the most popular students in the dance club, with a thin face and sharp jawline. His eyes said otherwise, always set in a tired daze, people often wondered if he was sleepy or taking something illegal. Those eyes sat above a sharp nose and thin lips, quite opposite of what Kyungsoo looked like. Not that Yixing cared, he was a loyal and caring boyfriend that had most girls envying Kyungsoo who in turn made the other boys jealous of Yixing.
“Xing Xing~” Kyungsoo sing-songed sweetly as she bounced up to him, arms already outstretched to hug him around the neck. As if on cue, his hands found her waist and he lifted her high in the air. “Xing, I heard they have the new Purple Chandelier range in today! Do we have funds to go shopping?”
Yixing smiled gently, his eyes sparkling mysteriously as he leaned down to her ear.
“We have more than enough, though I do have to tell you that I have to meet with the Red Dragons to discuss our turf assignment again since the new gangs have been popping up and stealing our areas.”
Kyungsoo pulled back with wide eyes, there were times where she was nervous but the only times she was scared was days like this where Yixing had to go off alone. That’s right, despite her boyfriend’s rich status, Kyungsoo had wanted to be able to afford her own clothes and earn her own money. What started out as a small test project turned into a gang and soon, the more experienced mobsters approached them for recruitment. Sometimes Kyungsoo cursed her love for expensive Japanese fashion, until she puts them on. At Yixing’s request, she had hidden herself behind a dark veil, hiding her gender and identity from her minions and the opposing gangs. Yixing had taken a different name, deciding on Lay and staying by her side as the right hand man. All of Kyungsoo’s subordinates were loyal, she had made sure, but she had never had to worry about Lay. But unfortunately, his loyalty was what worries her the most, mainly when he and the third in command would have to go to negotiate with the next largest gang in the city for the sharing of the turf. If something went wrong in one of the meetings, Kyungsoo would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Yixing. That is why she often tries to convince him to withdraw.
“But Xing, can’t we get Suho to do it instead? You know how nice he is, they would never hurt him. We can go shopping then catch that new Hobbit movie!”
With whines and tugs, Kyungsoo was lead into college by an amused Yixing. Though she worries about him, he liked it no other way, he was ready to do anything to give her what she wanted.
“Oh look! Cheese tteokbokki!”