#beyond evil

[vindicated-truth]

It's bittersweet, the way Dongsik has finally arrested his sister's killer.

Once upon a time, he once imagined it to be sweet vindication. He might have imagined it to be a sense of triumph, even as it could never make up for the gaping, gnawing loss of Yuyeon's bright presence in his life—his true other half.

Once upon a time, there would have been immense satisfaction over triumphing over evil.

Until he sees the son of his sister's killer sacrificing himself. Taking the gun from him. Shielding him. Taking a shot for him.

It's why when Dongsik finally clasps those handcuffs over Han Kihwan's wrists, his face isn't one of triumph or vindication.

His face in that moment is one of heartbreak. Because in order to bring justice to his sister, he has to inevitably hurt Han Joowon.

And it wouldn't have mattered if Han Joowon didn't matter to him.

But he did.

It would've been so, so much easier to feel that sense of satisfaction in seeing Han Kihwan behind bars, if only his son, like him, was also evil. If his son, like him, was not a good man.

But he was.

And that is the most devastating realization of all, in the end, for Dongsik—that there are no winners in this battle. There is no true winner in any war.

There is only heartbreak, and necessary sacrifice, in order for justice to be served.

Because evil does not exist in a vacuum. There will always, always be collateral damage when you defeat it.

And perhaps in the end, that is why Dongsik had to make that choice. For his true other half, for his twin, for his sister, it is necessary to sacrifice Han Joowon.

But perhaps there is also a sense of relief there too, clear in the shock on his face, when Han Joowon shot at his own father—coldly, calmly, the Han bloodline clearly running through his veins, too.

There is that shocked relief that perhaps Dongsik need not worry about sacrificing Han Joowon for Lee Yuyeon—because Han Joowon can and will survive it.

That's the relief Dongsik has, in the end: that he does not need to feel guilty about doing what is right.

Because the sweet irony of it all is: Han Joowon himself will never forgive Dongsik if he did not choose to do what is right.

And that is the bittersweetness of it, the full circle moment of that mutual exchange of sacrifice.

Because in order to make things right for Han Joowon, too—Dongsik has to sacrifice himself.

To surrender to the man he ruined.

[koreanthrillerenjoyer]

Ah yes..

Mhhh

Ramming with the horns of justice or wtvr

before you stab someone: THINK!

how can you make it Tender?

how can you make it Homoerotic?

how can you make it Implicitly intimate?

how can you make it Noticeably a metaphor for sex?

how can you make it Kind of gay?

[thistle--bug]

One of the many things I love about Beyond Evil is that Dongsik has so many important women in his life that he loves and respects without any of it being romantic

[opal-earrings]

Babe wake up han joo won is wearing white fur to symbolise how his relationship with dong sik has irrevocably changed him

[kandadze]

Beyond Evil, episode 12

One of the many brilliant things about this show is how, by following Han Joowon more often than not, it makes us develop the same tunnel vision he has; how it makes us follow Han Joowon in always, always, looking towards Lee Dongsik first.

[woodohwanedandproud]

@dangermousie This is 100% one of those scenes in old school kdramas where an angsty chaebol from a cold family sees and is smitten by a poor Cinderella who is demonstrating she has retained her kind heart despite her tragic life 😝

@friendlynbhddevil #this is a love story #the murder is just there

@ut-aves-solem-pariunt The italicized “oh” in fic

That was...jaw droppingly blatant.

The Devil Judge levels blatant.

MY GOD.

[sonyason7]

I'm LITERALLY addicted to Bromance Kdramas that give off that bl vibe and I think I've finished most of them

I've searched for other Kdramas but couldn't find anything I feel like I'll CRY I'll settle for crumbs as long as it's good one PLS

[lordoftheempty]

Beksinski study in the face of Dongsik's trauma.

This is inspired by Beksinski's tree/root guy, because it's one of my favorite paintings of his.

The reed field and the tree roots symbolizing Manyang and its influence on him and then later his depression. The things he cannot escape, because they're now a part of him. The stitches on his neck for his silence. And flowers for the people he lost. Them also being skeleton flowers that stand for impermanence of life.

What I adore about Beksinski's paintings is that he always said they have no meaning and refused to speak on that or even name them, but they still have so much symbolism in them. This is literally why ai cannot replicate human art. Even when Beksinski didn't want it to have meaning, his human experience, imagination, and everything he saw in his life was still projected onto his canvases. Doesn't matter how many times a machine tries to do that, it just can't, because it has no ability to experience things.

[nireey]

The first time Inspector Han Juwon had noticed it was when he walked into Manyang Substation with the confidence of a young, handsome man who had aced the National Police University, could speak four languages, was in peak physical condition and drove a luxury Camaro worth more than the entire precinct’s annual equipment budget.

He was ready to solve a long row of femicides in this little stinking village of Munju, ready to expose corruption and catch criminals. Ready to fix this backwards town by force, if necessary.

What he wasn’t ready for however was...Lee Dongsik; his prime suspect. The mysterious man - a former inspector in Seoul himself - he had observed from a distance long before he went to Manyang.

The man who made him question many things. His identity, his family status, his entire life for example, on top of all that. 

They had just been partnered up by senior officer Chief Nam who was oddly confident they would, in his words, "balance each other out”, after the entire team doubted his courtesy for pairing these two. Both Dongsik and Juwon were eventually sent out on patrol in a police car that smelled like cigarette smoke, old leather, wet socks, cheap deodorant and greasy fingers; a friendly accommodation of getting to know each other in proper standard uniforms, the mutual suspicion however peaking in nonstop passive-aggressive conversations.

Juwon despised everything about this, the patrolling, the stinking car, including Dongsik who stank in his own way - like suspicion, annoyance, musky aftershave and deep-seated grief.

In the late afternoon they came back for some hot beverage before the shift change. And that’s when he saw it.

That swing. The lazy, sideways roll of Officer Lee Dongsik’s hips as he walked past him, stripped off the tactical vest. A man who knew exactly how much space he took up in this station among his colleagues, who absolutely didn’t give a damn what a high class inspector and chaebol heir from Gangnam thought about him.

Juwon’s brain - oh so trained, disciplined, analytical - briefly forgot how to function, eyes busy staring holes at Dongsik who stood across the room, leaning over the printer. His police shirt rode up just enough to reveal the lean slope of his lower back through the bluegreen fabric, the way his black belt hugged his narrow hips too well for it to be legal in a government-issued uniform.

Get a grip, he’s your prime suspect. He’s rude, crazy, volatile, probably guilty of murdering his sister and-

And that waist.

That damned waist.

Juwon’s eyelids flicked up. Then down. Up again and stayed, unable to turn his gaze away.

Unfortunately long enough that Jihoon and Gwangyoung, both chilling behind the counter, couldn’t hold back their indirect jabs.

“I counted twelve seconds this time.”

Juwon pretended not to listen, but his ears were set on alarm mode. 

“Aishi…that’s a personal best.”

Jihoon snorted, packing up an old case file. Gwangyoung lifted his shiny silver moka pot and poured himself some strong coffee with a flourish to get ready for a long shift. 

“ㅎㅎLooks like we’re gonna have to report a Code 69, huh?”, Gilgu had thrown in from the hallway, zipping up his vest, preparing for the follow-up patrol shift, causing brainless laughter roaring through the entire room much to Juwon’s confusion because these stupid, infantile backwoods men all talked in riddles to him, and he wasn't realizing how he became the center of an ongoing roast while thirsting in full view of everyone.

Code 69? Eh?

Jihoon wheezed with a dramatic sigh, blowing his hot ramyun to cool off. "Y’know…I never believed in soulmates. But then I saw hyung’s lower back in that shirt…man...”

“And those pants.”, Gilgu added. “Oof, that fit.”

“I’d kneel in church for that silhouette.”

Juwon was still lingering on the bench, still clueless because he, in all honesty, couldn’t stand this insufferable Manyang peanut gallery anyway. He hated how they all apparently didn’t talk to him directly out of respect and avoidance, keeping their distance, yet seem to gossip about him or Dongsik without ever dropping a name.

Idiots.

Juwon blinked, stiffened, didn't say a word and pretended to study the bulletin board to his right but he froze the moment he heard Dongsik’s bored, lazy voice from the printer corner. 

“Is my ass really that distracting?”

Dongsik turned around, printed papers in his hands, his expression relaxed, not at all bothered by any of the silly talk surrounding him, as if he was used to them clowing around.

“You want me to turn a little more? Or should I stand still while you sketch it for, you know, murder evidence?”

Papers still in hand, he arched his hip a little, rubbing a hand all over his waist and chest, skilled, pretty bedroom eyes straight focusing at Juwon.

The peanut gallery howled. 

Dongsik leaned back against the desk, stole a sip from Gwangyoung’s cup without asking, and smirked in his disgusting, infuriating way.

Cute. Very cute.

Juwon adjusted his collar, face flushed, stood up quickly and walked out of the station building - determined and resolved never to walk, sit or stand behind Dongsik ever again and, most importantly - not to stare at him to avoid gay panic.

Yeah, fuck this. Fuck this old man and his weird anatomy, fuck these twats and their insufferable, childish humour.

…until now.

Two years later. About to date Lee Dongsik. Kind of.

The same torture, but this time without a risk of having to endure endless mocking laughter in his ears.

Dongsik had rolled over ten minutes ago with all the casual grace of a man who had done this a thousand times before in his own, old, creaking bed. He ended up giving Juwon his back simply because he could sleep easier on the preferred side position, facing the door - as if it meant nothing - because, yes, it absolutely meant nothing. 

Like he hadn’t just exposed the full curve of his lower back to a very hungry man on the brink of starvation, suffering from psychological ruin over…a waist.

That goddamn waist. Right there now in front of him. Close. Too close.

Juwon’s cautious eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness in the room, with the only light source being the quiet moonlight spilling through the flimsy linen curtains in faint streaks.

Enough light to watch. To observe, to stare at Dongsik's back.

A steady outline against the thin, grey sheets, the silhouette of his oddly wide hip barely covered, chest rising and falling in a rhythm Juwon couldn’t match at all. The bed dipped ever so slightly toward him and beneath the blanket, heat radiated from Dongsik’s body like a furnace.

It was one of those hot summer nights in Manyang which didn't help to cool him off either. No air conditioner; Dongsik’s house didn’t have that kind of luxury. Just a small fan whirring on a wooden dresser in the corner, blowing at least a tiny refreshing breeze of air through the bedroom. No. This obviously wasn’t his well-tempered, acclimated apartment in Seoul and he wasn’t lying in a bed that he didn’t have to share with an incredibly hot, middle-aged menace of a man.

Everything had gone still and silent in this town at the late hour. Dongsik, the familiar house, the bedroom, even the last few drunk, noisy youths outside on the village streets.

Everything. Except him.

Juwon regretted that he didn’t take the couch for a sleepover. Now he was almost on the verge of a meltdown as he tried to focus on his shallow breath, on the soft hum of the fan, the circulating breeze kissing his heated skin. On anything except the very real, very warm body lying a few pathetic inches away from him.

Shit.

Dongsik’s back hadn’t moved, as he was still facing away, still giving Juwon some personal space but the gap between them was even more precarious and for some strange reason it became smaller with every minute. Dongsik’s shirt had ridden up, bunching a little under his shoulder blades, baring an obscene amount of slightly sweaty skin. His smooth spine was sharp and shadowed by the right amount of muscles, waist narrowing into a ridiculous, sharp, angled curve, snug and clean, descending into the band of his underwear - like it was made to be grabbed, held onto. Licked, sucked and bitten.

Juwon could see where his avid palms might fit, like the universe had shaped that waist for him.

Dongsik’s ass was tucked and hidden in those way too tight black cotton briefs like a criminal’s secret; barely a breath away from Juwon’s hip. Barely.

Why is your waist shaped like that??

Juwon kept staring and sweating, fists clenching his own blanket, thoughts spiraling into the most humiliating and desperate scenarios a sexually constipated virgin man could imagine.

Dongsik’s pose wasn’t intentional or dramatic nor supposed to be suggestive. It was just fucking anatomy. That damn tiny waist just existed and didn’t even know what it was doing but for Juwon however it was a naughty, anatomical trap carved out of sturdy flesh and sharp bone, shaped by years of heavy police work and moral ambiguity and-

…and it was killing him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking legal in his personal sense for justice. Dongsik’s waist absolutely shouldn’t be allowed to look like that.

That waist could maybe be held with one hand…Two for proper leverage during-…If I touched it, would it flex? Would he arch his back a little..? Moan at me? Would he let me get close enough to-

Sweaty palms wrapped in the blanket, Juwon’s fingers twitched and his thighs clenched together as the familiar heat boiled up inside his lower belly.

No. Fuck this.

His hopeless body didn’t want any distance. Not when Dongsik was right there, soft and breathing and real, after all those years of sexual self-repression, all the late nights alone in Gangnam, picturing this and telling himself he, who definitely wasn’t a thirsty, touch-starved 30 year old unfucked chaebol son, didn’t need any of it…and five minutes later still somehow ended up masturbating to Dongsik’s waist like a desperate, horny highschool boy.

Juwon wanted to press closer even if this would erase the last remnants of his nerves that currently stopped him from just grabbing this godforsaken waist, pulling it against his shaking form. Just a little, of course, but still closer. No morally questionable things.

Right?

As if the universe, the universal mind reader, hadn’t already made enough of a mockery of him here in this bedroom, Dongsik suddenly stirred in his sleep, presenting a feast. His hip flexed in a subtle shift against Juwon's groin, muscles moving under warm skin and Juwon saw the definition - that cursed line. That subtle but damned V-line...

I hate you. I hate your waist. I hate your body. I hate that it looks like it belongs in my hands.

Cursing under his trembling breath, struggling with a massive boner twitching happily between his legs, Juwon forced himself to squeeze his eyes shut.

It’s not like he could just grab him. Right?

Right?!

…Right?

Just to feel it; to make Dongsik feel him and his silent suffering that he was causing by merely existing.

[motherdanger]

soft jwds be upon ye

[jingooism]

chapter 10: systems offline

dongsik finds out just how all-purpose joowon can be

as always, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! <3

cold hands, beating heart

Lee Dongsik is not a fan of androids. It doesn't make it any easier that his new partner is one.

Or, the one where Joowon is a new police officer android and Dongsik just can't stand robots.

updates to come hopefully frequently! hope you guys enjoy! comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[northsonic]

If the ship doesn’t have high obsession & ‘ high codependency.. do I even want it?

[thistle--bug]

Imagine being clocked like this by the suspect you're trying to interrogate

[kseniacho]

the best kdrama i watched this year

(why is it square? I don't know, I cut off half of the picture just because)

[alarmsofmyheart]

They are each other's cuff.

They are also the key.

The symbolism of using handcuffs as the red string of fate that binds Lee Dongsik and Han Joowon to each other holds so many layers.

Part of it is that they’re inextricably bound together because of crime—one that took the two of them finally joining forces together to solve after 21 years—but the handcuffs as the thing that binds them holds more connotations than the obvious.

One is that: all handcuffs have a key. Meaning—if they choose to, they can let each other go.

What’s also interesting: being in handcuffs also ultimately means that you allowed someone else to cuff you.

In the show, nearly all of the moments they were handcuffed by each other had been voluntary. Even this moment when Joowon had to suddenly cuff Dongsik to stop him from going after Jaeyi, he cuffed Dongsik to himself, and voluntarily let him go after Dongsik agreed to cooperate.

In every other moment: they surrendered to each other voluntarily. Knowingly.

I think that’s what’s fascinating about using handcuffs in place of the red string to bind them.

They voluntarily surrendered. And they have a key.

They way they chained themselves to each other had always been their choice.

They won't allow each other to be alone ever again.

[mogamoka]

Beyond Evil