#i could LITERALLY go on about this FOREVER
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fear-less · 2 days ago
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 what letter? sirius, what letter?
pairing: james potter x f!reader
➥ In which, you never planned on talking to james ever again, not after your last encounter with him. Luckily Sirius saves the day.
an: omg last chapter, and its my fav.... hopefully this convinces some of y'all to watch anne with an e....I LOVE awae. ALSO!! i’m going to start writing all requests in my inbox, send some! i’m gonna start with the oldest then the more recent ones! also, im not ignoring your request if it takes a while😭 i’ll be writing then get stuck on what to do then move onto the next thing… bad habit but😭
Warnings: angst, fluff, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), another letter James wrote gets lost ayyyyy, literally that's all…
series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons
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It was now June, the end of your final year at Hogwarts. The castle, which had been your home for the past seven years, seemed to hum with the bittersweet energy of goodbyes. If you had told your eleven-year-old self that you’d be leaving these halls without James, she would’ve been heartbroken—devastated, even.
Back then, you’d believed in the stories. You’d believed that the boy who made your heart race would be the one you’d leave Hogwarts with, hand in hand, ready to take on the world together. But life had a way of unraveling those childish dreams, weaving something far more complicated in their place.
James hadn’t spoken to you since that night—since you’d spilled your heart out and he’d told you to marry Finn. It wasn’t anger or malice that kept you apart, but a quiet, mutual understanding that too much had been said, and yet not enough to bring you back to where you were before.
You told yourself it was better this way.
Finn was everything a girl could hope for: kind, considerate, and endlessly patient. He never pressured you for answers when your mind drifted during a conversation, never asked why you’d go quiet whenever someone mentioned James. You were grateful for that. But as the end of term feast approached, with the prospect of leaving Hogwarts forever hanging over you, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything left unsaid.
James sat at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by his friends, but the usual Marauder energy was dampened. He’d won the Quidditch Cup, aced his N.E.W.T.s, and had offers from the most prestigious Quidditch teams waiting for him. By all accounts, he should’ve been ecstatic. But as he watched you sitting across the Great Hall, laughing softly at something Finn said, James felt hollow.
He’d told himself he was doing the right thing. That night in the common room, when you’d asked him if there was a chance for the two of you, he’d convinced himself that pushing you toward Finn was what you deserved. Stability. A future he couldn’t promise.
But watching you now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made a mistake.
“Mate,” Sirius said quietly, nudging James with his elbow, “you’re staring again.”
James tore his gaze away, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, though his friends knew better.
“You’ve got one night left,” Sirius continued, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “If you’re going to do something about this, now’s your chance.”
James shook his head, laughing bitterly. “What am I supposed to do? Walk up to her, tell her I’m an idiot, and beg her to take me back? She’s with Finn now, Pads. She’s happy.”
“Is she?” Remus asked quietly, his eyes flicking to you. “Because from where I’m sitting, she looks like someone who’s convincing herself she’s happy.”
James didn’t respond for a while, this was his last chance of seeing her–he couldn’t lose her. 
“You're right. I’m going to see her tonight. I’ll tell her that I missed what she was trying to tell me!” James said, now in a bit of a better mood. 
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
Once night fell, James made his way to your dormitory. He prayed no one but you would be there. Out of your four roommates, he only knew two, and he’d seen them sitting in the common room without you. That meant you had to be in your dorm, right?
The corridors were quiet but not empty. Most of the dormitory doors were open, with people wandering in and out. It didn’t take long for him to find your door—how could he forget it when he’d been inside so many times before?
James stepped in cautiously, but his heart sank when he realized the room was empty. You weren’t there. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. This was supposed to be it—the last time he’d ever get a chance to talk to you—and you weren’t even here.
His eyes wandered to your side of the room. It was unusually tidy, and most of your belongings were already packed away. The only things left were a few scattered pieces of parchment, a quill, an inkpot, and an envelope on the desk.
Before he even realized what he was doing, James sat down at your desk. His hand hovered over the parchment for a moment before he began to write, his thoughts spilling out faster than he could process them.
“Dear… (Y/N),” he murmured to himself as the words took shape. “I’m sorry... I was confused before. I’m not anymore. I love you. –James.
P.S. May I please... have Buddy back?”
James smiled faintly as he reread the last part. Buddy was the stuffed animal you’d gifted him on his birthday before you’d snatched it back after losing a bet. If things didn’t work out, at least he’d have something to remind him of what you two once had. Maybe he’d even pass it on to his future child—if he had one.
He quickly folded the note, wrote your name on it and placed it neatly on your desk. 
 ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
You’d spent almost the entire day with Finn, and at first, everything seemed fine. But, as always, the cracks begin to show, and yet another argument erupted.
“Do you not trust me?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended, though the bitterness behind it was impossible to hide.
“No, I don’t. No man would if they were in my place!” Finn shot back, his tone defensive, the edge in his words cutting deeper than he realized.
You scoffed, the sting of his accusation hitting harder than you wanted to admit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to stay away from James,” he said, his voice rising. “Someone told me they saw you two talking alone in a corridor. I know you used to be good friends, but you haven’t spoken in months. You’ve never told me why, so I can only assume the worst!”
“We stopped talking for a reason I don’t even understand myself!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling over, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth.
Finn’s expression darkened, his lips curling into a bitter frown. “Yeah, sure. I totally believe you. He definitely didn’t distance himself because he fancies you. He looks at you the way I do.”
His words were a gut punch, the weight of his jealousy and mistrust pressing down on you. For a moment, you stood frozen, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, taking a deep, steadying breath, you decided you were done dancing around the truth.
“He doesn’t fancy me,” you said, your voice trembling, though you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “And I know that for a fact. Since you want honesty, fine. I dragged James out of that party. I told him…” You hesitated, but the words came spilling out before you could stop them. “I told him how much I love him. That I’d leave you if he wanted me to. And do you know what he said?”
Finn’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, so you pressed on, tears now streaming freely down your face.
“He told me you’re a great guy. That I deserve you. He didn’t even tell me he loved me back.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Finn stood there, his expression unreadable, his jaw set like stone. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, hurt, or simply done. After what felt like an eternity, he turned on his heel and walked out without a word, leaving you alone in his empty dormitory.
You stood there for a moment, stunned, as the weight of what had just happened settled over you. Was this the end of whatever fragile future you’d tried to build with Finn? You didn’t know. All you knew was that the room felt stifling, the air too thick to breathe.
Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you pulled yourself together enough to leave. Sitting here, drowning in your own thoughts, wasn’t going to help. You needed air, a distraction—anything to stop the whirlwind in your mind.
The cool night air greeted you as you made your way to the Black Lake. The walk was long, but with every step, your nerves began to settle. The gentle lapping of the water and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze worked to quiet the storm in your head, if only for a little while.
As you stood by the Black Lake, the moonlight dancing across the rippling water, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep your emotions from unraveling. Finn's words echoed in your mind, but instead of providing any sense of resolution, they left you with a heavier burden of confusion and regret.
You had laid everything bare—your feelings for James, your failed attempt to move on with Finn—and now, for the first time in ages, you felt unmoored. The certainty you’d desperately tried to force, the future you envisioned with Finn, had shattered. All that remained were questions, unanswered and painful.
You closed your eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over you, as though trying to cleanse the ache that lingered in your chest. Your heart still aches for James, despite everything. But what was the point in holding onto hope? He had made his feelings—or lack thereof—clear. And now Finn, the only thread that had tied you to some semblance of stability, was slipping away too.
After what felt like an eternity of sitting there in solitude, you made your way back to Hogwarts. When you reached your dorm, you didn’t bother tidying the mess on your desk. The next person who would stay there would find scattered pieces of parchment, half-used ink, and a neglected quill—unless the house-elves came to clean and dispose of it all.
You opened your luggage, only to realize you’d packed everything, leaving no clothes behind for the night or morning. That’s when your eyes landed on the small stuffed bear. A wave of emotions washed over you at the sight of it. You wiped away the tears you hadn't even realized had been falling. Sniffling, you stood up and made your way to the washroom to shower, hoping the warm water would wash away at least some of the weight on your heart.
Once you were out of the shower, the thoughts continued to swirl in your mind. After a long pause, you decided to write to James. You didn’t think you could face him—not after he rejected you, not when your emotions were still raw and all over the place.
Dear James, Since we are parting ways, perhaps forever, I feel I must unburden my heart. You are the fond object of my affection and my desire.  You, and you alone, are the keeper of the key to my heart.  Please don’t be alarmed--I don’t expect your favor--but I can’t, in good conscience, not reveal myself.  I’m not engaged--nor will I be--unless, it’s to you, James.  It always has been and always will be you.
With love, (Y/N)
PS: Here’s Buddy, in case you want him. I don’t think I can keep him without crying whenever I see him.
As you finished the letter, you sat there, staring at the words that held every ounce of your vulnerability. Your hands trembled as you carefully folded the parchment and slid it into an envelope. For a moment, you hesitated. Doubts surged in your mind—was this the right thing to do? What if he never read it? What if this only made everything worse?
But deep down, you knew it was the only way to find closure. You couldn’t carry these feelings any longer, locked away inside. This letter wasn’t just for him—it was for you too, a way to finally release the emotions that had weighed you down for so long.
You reached for Buddy, the small stuffed bear that had once brought you so much comfort. Seeing him now only reopened old wounds, but at the same time, he reminded you of the love you had for James—the love you still had, even though it wasn’t returned. You hugged Buddy tightly one last time, letting a few tears fall before tucking him into the package with the letter.
You had considered waiting until morning to deliver it, but the thought of sleeping on it felt impossible. You needed to let go of this weight before you could rest. So, once all your roommates were asleep, you slipped out of the dorm and made your way to James' room. The dorm was empty, just as you'd expected. Whenever there was a holiday, the boys would often roam the grounds late into the night, returning well after curfew.
You placed the package—Buddy and the letter—gently on James' bed. You glanced around the room, the usually cluttered space now oddly quiet and foreign. Standing in it alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of how much had changed. With a final, shaky breath, you turned and left, the door clicking softly behind you as you disappeared into the darkness.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
It was nearing three-thirty in the morning when the boys finally returned. Sirius stumbled in, clearly drunk beyond belief, while Remus went straight to the shower, and Peter collapsed into his bed, too tired to think. James, however, stood frozen in his doorway.
His eyes were locked on a small brown-covered package resting on his bed. Confusion washed over him as he approached. He quickly tore it open, finding a folded piece of parchment with his name written in your handwriting—and Buddy.
His chest tightened with anger. "Oh, really, (Y/N)? You couldn’t even face me? World class!" His voice was laced with frustration as his eyes flicked from the bear to the letter. All he could focus on was how you'd read his letter and now returned Buddy.
You actually gave Buddy back? He remembered you promising, no—vowing—never to part with it, no matter what. Yes, he'd asked for it, but this… this was more than just a simple request.
Without thinking, James ripped the letter apart. His fists clenched around the torn pieces as he made his way into the empty common room. In a fit of rage, he threw the scraps into the fire.
As the flames flickered, a sudden thought struck him, and his stomach dropped. “What if... oh, shit!” he muttered, cursing himself. What if you had come to speak to him, only to find he wasn’t in the dorm, and in desperation, wrote that letter? What if it was your way of telling him that you felt the same, that you regretted everything, and that you still cared?
But now, it was too late. The letter was gone, burned to ash.
James stood frozen, clutching the remaining pieces of the letter in his hands, the ink smudging as he frantically pieced together the broken words:
Parting ways... Don't... Heart... Finn... Engaged... Don't love... Alarmed... Not... Alone... Forever...
What was all of this? Engaged to Finn? You just met him, for Merlin’s sake! And why would you tell him that in the letter? Did you want to make him feel worse, to confirm that you had truly moved on?
The sound of a door creaking open snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Remus stepping into the room, his expression one of quiet surprise. With Sirius and Peter asleep, James saw no reason to keep this to himself any longer. Remus was always the one who could make sense of things, the one who could calm him down when nothing else could.
“Remus, don’t go back to sleep, please," James blurted, pacing in frustration. "I’ve got breaking news! That night at the party? Forget it. Turns out (Y/N) doesn’t love me after all. She wrote me a letter explaining it—and told me she’s engaged to Finn!”
Remus paused, looking at him with wide eyes. “You told yourself—and us—that you would get over her. If she’s really engaged to Finn, then... let’s start now.”
James shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t, Remus.”
“You can, and you will,” Remus said firmly, his tone softer but still resolute. “Once you’re over her, you’ll be able to move on. It’ll be a new chapter, James—one without her in it.”
James’s face twisted in pain. “I want to be happy, Remus. I just can’t. (Y/N) is marrying the man of her dreams, and that man isn’t me.”
Remus sighed, stepping closer to his friend. He knew James too well, and knew how deep this went. “Let’s go to bed,” Remus said gently. “We’ve got an early morning ahead of us. Maybe you’ll have a chance to speak to her tomorrow? Tell her—and the others,” he added, gesturing toward Peter and Sirius, “maybe they’ll have a better plan for you.”
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
You were on the train now, staring out the window as the platform slowly filled with students saying their last goodbyes. You were ready to go home—or at least as ready as you could be. Ready to return to your parents, who still thought you were with Finn. The truth of your relationship, however, was far murkier. You and Finn hadn’t officially broken things off, but the silence that followed your last argument felt louder than any words could. It was obvious, even if neither of you had said it out loud.
The weight of everything sat heavily on your shoulders as you watched the scene outside. Friends hugged tightly, some with tears streaming down their faces, while others exchanged laughs and promises to write over the summer. There was a bittersweetness to it all—a kind of closure, even in the goodbyes. But you didn’t feel that closure. Instead, you felt like you were caught in a loop of unresolved emotions and unanswered questions.
You’d managed to find an empty compartment. It wasn’t hard when you were one of the first to board while everyone else lingered, reluctant to leave the castle behind. The quiet was what you needed—time to think, to breathe, to let the ache in your chest settle.
Diana, who's your best friend and practically your sister from how close you two are and your friends had offered to sit with you, but you told them you wanted to be alone. They understood, of course. They always did. You’d confided in them about what had happened with Finn, and while they’d tried to offer their support, you knew this was something you needed to process on your own. They couldn’t fix what was broken—not with Finn, and not with James.
The hum of the train as it prepared for departure filled the air, a low, steady rhythm that somehow felt comforting. You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, watching as more students climbed aboard . You envied the lightness in some of the students—their laughter, their certainty about who they were and where they stood with the people in their lives.
For you, everything felt like it was in limbo. The argument with Finn had left you reeling, unsure of what came next. And then there was James—the boy who had once been your closest friend, who still lingered in your thoughts even after months of strained silence.
You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as the train gave a soft lurch, signaling the start of its journey. Home felt both too far away and far too close.
The train began to pick up speed, the platform slowly fading into the distance as the familiar rolling hills of the countryside came into view. You opened your eyes, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The quiet of the compartment wrapped around you like a fragile cocoon, but your thoughts refused to settle.
James. His name echoed in your mind like a song you couldn’t quite forget. You hadn’t seen him at the station, though you’d looked for him instinctively. The habit was hard to break, no matter how strained things had become between the two of you.
You thought back to that day in Finn’s dorm, where everything had shifted. The weight of your confession to Finn, the raw honesty, and the pain that followed. But it wasn’t Finn’s face you pictured now—it was James’s. His messy hair, his lopsided grin, the way his hazel eyes lit up when he laughed. And the way those same eyes had avoided yours for months, the distance between you growing wider with each passing day.
You shook your head, as if the motion could clear your mind. It didn’t. Instead, it only made the ache in your chest deepen. The truth was, you missed him. More than you cared to admit, even to yourself.
It wasn’t just the friendship you missed, though that alone had been a loss. It was the way he’d always been there, the way he could make you laugh even on your worst days, the way he’d look at you like you were the most important person in the world. Somewhere along the way, things had changed, and you weren’t sure if you could ever get back to where you’d been.
The train rattled along the tracks, the countryside blurring past the window. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could ward off the coldness that had settled deep in your chest. For a fleeting moment, you wished James were here, sitting across from you like he used to. You could almost hear his voice, teasing you about something silly, his laughter filling the space between you. But the compartment was empty, and the silence felt heavier because of it.
You leaned your forehead against the glass, the cool surface grounding you. Maybe this summer would give you the space you needed to figure things out. Maybe time apart would help you understand what you really wanted, and what you were willing to fight for. But as the train carried you further away from Hogwarts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers you were looking for weren’t waiting for you at home—they were somewhere back there, tangled up in the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.
You closed your eyes again, letting the rhythmic motion of the train lull you into a state of uneasy calm. The journey home had only just begun, but you already felt like you were carrying the weight of an entire year’s worth of emotions with you. And no matter how far the train took you, there was one thing you couldn’t seem to leave behind: the hope that somehow, someday, you and James could find your way back to each other.
A knock startled you awake. For a fleeting moment, you hoped it might be James, but when you opened the door, it was Diana. Despite your insistence on wanting no company, you never minded hers. You mustered a small smile as she entered.
“So,” Diana began, sitting across from you, “you wrote him a letter saying you still love him?”
“Yes,” you replied softly, avoiding her gaze.
“And he hasn’t talked to you?”
“Mhm.”
“And you called it off with Finn?”
“Well...” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I still need to, but he despises me now. Once I get home, I’ll owl him. He’s... not exactly happy right now.”
“Because of the fight?” Diana’s tone grew sharper. “I know you lied to us. It wasn’t about your parents, was it? If you want to tell me the real reason, just say it.”
You hesitated, your throat tightening. “I... I ruined it with him. He got mad about James, and I snapped. I told him what I told James at the party. He didn’t even say anything; he just stood there, then left. We haven’t spoken since. I haven’t even told my parents yet—I don’t know if he’s told them.”
“Wow...” Diana’s expression was a mix of disbelief and frustration. “And James hasn’t said anything? You went through all that struggle, and he’s just blatantly ignoring you?”
“I know! But maybe I shouldn’t have told him how I felt again. Remember what happened at the party?”
Diana softened, reaching out to touch your hand. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I can’t imagine being in your situation.”
“It doesn’t even matter anymore,” you mumbled, though the lump in your throat betrayed your words.
“Of course it matters!” Diana said firmly. “Finn demanded the truth and then got mad when you gave it to him? That’s not fair!”
“Well, at least I won’t be engaged to him anymore.”
“When did he pro—” Diana started, but her words were cut off as Sirius suddenly barged into the compartment.
None of you had noticed him outside, and you had no idea how long he’d been listening.
“How much did you hear?” Diana demanded, her eyes narrowing.
“Enough to know that (Y/N) is no longer with that Finn bloke,” Sirius replied with a grin that was far too smug for the situation.
“Well, if you’d listened more, you’d also know—” Diana began again, but Sirius interrupted her too.
“(Y/N), have you even tried to speak to James about this?!”
“Had I had the opportunity, I would have,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “In fact, I went over—”
“You’ve had every opportunity!” Sirius exclaimed, cutting you off again. You stared at him, then at Diana, who looked just as shocked as you felt.
“Admit it,” Sirius said, his voice rising. “You’ve been smitten with James since the moment you two met! The clues have been everywhere! And don’t deny that you were completely beguiled by him at the party—even though you were dating some random bloke you barely knew!”
“That’s not—” you started, but Sirius plowed on, his words tumbling out in a rush.
“Then you drag James out of the party, demand to know how he feels about you, and give him all of thirty seconds to decide your entire future!”
“Well, that’s because—”
“And worst of all,” Sirius thundered, ignoring you, “you callously ignored the letter James wrote to you, where he told you he loved you!”
If confusion were a person, it would have been you at that moment. You exchanged a bewildered look with Diana.
“What letter?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Even Sirius looked thrown off. “What do you mean, ‘What letter?’”
“Sirius,” you said more firmly, standing now. “What letter?”
“The letter was the whole reason he stopped talking to you!” Sirius snapped. “He put one in your luggage—slipped it into a pocket—and then left another on your desk yesterday!”
You blinked, your mind racing. “Which pocket? I don’t use most of them, and I left everything on my desk at Hogwarts—it was just extra parchment. Why didn’t he just tell me?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Sirius said with a shrug. “But what are you waiting for? Go find James! He’s crying like a bloody baby—that’s the only reason I came to find you. Took me five minutes to track you down!”
You nodded quickly and scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding like a drum. You knew exactly where James would be. After sharing the same train compartment for seven years, you could find it blindfolded, even in your sleep.
Without hesitation, you hurried down the train, determination and nerves tangling in your chest like vines. Your footsteps echoed faintly against the narrow corridor, your mind racing ahead.
Then you froze.
James’ laugh drifted through the crack in the door—warm, familiar, and effortless. It was the kind of laugh that made the world tilt, like gravity had shifted just enough to pull you toward him. The sound wrapped around you, igniting a fire in your chest and a tremor in your hands.
You pressed a shaky palm against the cool surface of the compartment door, drawing in a deep breath.
This is it.
With a steadying exhale, you slid the door open. The soft creak barely registered over the hammering in your ears.
“James,” you began, your voice trembling but determined. “Can we… could we talk? Please. If that’s okay with you?”
James froze mid-laugh, his body stilling like a snapshot in time. His gaze locked onto yours, wide-eyed and searching, as if trying to confirm you were real. Slowly, he nodded, his brow creasing in quiet confusion, curiosity flickering behind his eyes.
You stepped inside and let the door click softly shut behind you, the faint sound reverberating in the small, enclosed space. Here, at the back of the train, there were no prying eyes, no curious ears—just the two of you and the fragile weight of the moment.
For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt electric, thick with unspoken words and barely restrained emotion. James watched you carefully, his gaze tracing your face as if committing every detail to memory.
Your chest tightened, the words caught like a stone in your throat. You’d waited too long, carried this too far. But you couldn’t falter now.
Swallowing the lump of fear, you took a step closer, and then another, until the space between you vanished completely.
You weren’t sure who moved first—if it was him, or you, or maybe both of you at once—but the distance dissolved like it had never been there at all. His hands found your waist as yours slid up to cup his face, and then his lips were on yours. The world outside the compartment disappeared in a rush, the hum of the train fading into nothingness.
It wasn’t frantic or hurried. It was soft, almost tentative at first, like neither of you could quite believe this was real. But then, the kiss deepened, and with it came a flood of emotions—relief, longing, and something you didn’t dare name just yet.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. James’ cheeks were flushed, and his glasses were slightly askew. His lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile you’d ever seen from him. It was a look you wanted to commit to memory.
But the weight of why you were here—the reason you’d sought him out—pressed against your chest, demanding to be spoken to.
You took a deep breath, looking James in the eye as you began. “Sirius told me about the letters. The one in my luggage, the one on my desk… I didn’t even know they existed. I never read them.”
James blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. “You… you never read them?” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly.
You shook your head, your chest tightening as you stepped closer to him. “No. I only found out about them because Sirius barged into my compartment and told me everything. He said you hid one in my luggage, and the other was on my desk, buried under a pile of parchment I never cleaned up. James, I had no idea.”
James ran a hand through his hair, his face clouding with frustration and regret. “Merlin,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “All this time, I thought you knew. I thought you read them and just… ignored me.”
“Why would I ignore you?” you asked, your voice trembling. “James, I didn’t know because I didn’t even think to look. And the letter in my bag—I didn’t even realize there was a hidden pocket until Sirius told me.”
James stared at you, his lips parting as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he managed, “I wrote them because I didn’t know how else to tell you how I felt. I thought if I put it on paper, it’d be easier to say everything I couldn’t say to your face.”
“James, I didn’t read them, but you need to know something,” you said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I wrote to you too. I wrote you a letter and left it on your bed with Buddy.”
His expression shifted, his brows knitting together in a mix of guilt and realization. “The letter with Buddy,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I tore it up.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and your heart sank. “You… tore it up?” you asked softly, your voice breaking.
James nodded, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I was angry,” he admitted, his tone thick with regret. “I thought you’d moved on, that you didn’t care anymore. I saw Buddy, and I just… I lost it. And when I saw you’d written me a letter instead of talking to me in person—well, I just… I thought you were giving him back to me because you didn’t need him anymore. I thought you were telling me that you were done with me, that you’d let go. So, I tore it up without even reading it.”
You stared at him, your heart heavy with the weight of the misunderstanding. “James, I wasn’t telling you that I was done. I… I was just too scared to face you. After what happened at the party… when you told me to marry Finn… I didn’t think I could bear hearing you reject me again. I didn’t think I could face you after that.”
James' face softened, his brows furrowing with understanding. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I thought I was doing the right thing, telling you to marry Finn, but it wasn’t because I didn’t care. I was trying to push you away, trying to convince myself that it was better if you were happy with him. I couldn’t bear to see you hurting, but instead, I just made it worse.”
You shook your head, your voice catching. “I didn’t think you wanted me, James. You told me to marry Finn, and you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you how I felt. I thought if I wrote the letter, maybe that was my chance to say what I couldn’t say face-to-face.”
James’ breath hitched, and he stepped toward you. “I was wrong. I should have listened to you, should have seen that I was the one hurting you. I was so confused. I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you that I felt the same.”
“James, that letter wasn’t about moving on. It was about you. I told you everything—how I felt, how I couldn’t be with Finn because my heart wasn’t his to have. It was yours. It’s always been yours.”
James’ breath caught in his throat as realization washed over him. “You… you said that?”
You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes. “I told you that I loved you. That I’ve always loved you, no matter how much I tried to deny it. And I gave you Buddy because I didn’t think I deserved to keep him anymore.”
James’ face crumpled, and he took a shaky step toward you. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For tearing up your letter, for hiding behind mine, for not saying what I needed to say.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “We both made mistakes, James. But I’m here now. And I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t care.”
James reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he leaned in. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw and unguarded. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ve been such an idiot for not saying it sooner.”
You let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over you like a tide. “Well, you’re saying it now. That’s all that matters.”
He kissed you then, the world falling away as the weight of years of miscommunication and doubt finally lifted. His lips were warm and familiar, and when he pulled back, both of you were breathless and flushed.
“We’re terrible at this,” James said with a small, rueful laugh, his hands still resting on your cheeks.
“We really are,” you agreed, smiling through your tears. “But we’ve got time to figure it out.”
James grinned, his eyes shining with hope. “Together?”
“Together,” you confirmed, your voice steady and sure.
James kissed you again, slow and tender, as if he was savoring the moment. The warmth of his lips, the familiarity of his touch—it was everything you had wanted, everything you had longed for but been too afraid to claim.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath shaky, both of you flushed from the rush of emotions. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid finally settling between you in a peaceful, unspoken understanding.
“I don’t know how we got here,” James said softly, his voice hushed, as though he was still trying to piece everything together in his mind. “We both made so many mistakes, (Y/N). I hurt you, and I never meant to. I’ve been a coward, hiding behind my letters, my words... not telling you the truth when it mattered.”
You shook your head, gently cupping his face in your hands. “James, we both let fear dictate everything. We were both too scared to face the truth. But we're here now, right? That’s all that matters. We don’t have to figure it all out right this moment. We just have to start somewhere.”
James looked into your eyes, his gaze intense, as if he was memorizing every detail, afraid that if he blinked, the moment might slip away. “I love you, (Y/N),” he said again, this time with complete certainty. “I’ve always loved you.”
Tears welled in your eyes, and you laughed softly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I love you too, James. I always have. I was just too afraid to believe it.”
James smiled, a real, unguarded smile, the kind that made his entire face light up. “So... do we get to be happy now?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.
You nodded, the warmth of his hands still holding your face. “Yes,” you whispered. “We get to be happy. Together.”
For a long time, neither of you moved, just stood there in the quiet, the weight of everything finally lifting, as if all the confusion and misunderstandings had just melted away.
James let out a soft laugh, breaking the stillness. “I’m not perfect, (Y/N),” he said, his thumb gently brushing the tear on your cheek. “But if you’ll have me, I’m willing to try.”
You smiled through your tears, your heart full to bursting. “I think we both need to try, James. And we will. Together.”
He kissed you one last time, and this time, it wasn’t hurried or filled with desperation. It was a kiss that held all the promises of a new beginning. The kind of kiss that said, we’ve found our way back to each other.
And when you pulled away, you both stood there, smiling through the tangled mess of emotions that had, somehow, become beautiful in their own way.
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marymekpop · 2 days ago
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⟢ highlight of the hour: love scout [07/12] ⟣
never a burden
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stars-for-circe · 2 days ago
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Circe's Most Frequented 🤍🤍🤍
My favourite authors over many different fandoms, for your indulgence.
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@astralnymphh - TLOU, sapphic, shakespeare reborn
𖣂 There is no one else who could begin this list except for you tbh. One of the first authors I ever followed on this app and your work has never failed to blow me away; from your beautifully paced works that never run out of new prompts and tropes that you always nail, to your crazy big words you scavenged from wordhippo and managed to intergrate perfectly into your fics. To the Ellie Williams enthusiasts, give her fics a read and I promise it will change the trajectory of your lives forever. And don't be afraid to send her an ask, because she will quite literally craft a masterpiece.
𖣂 My recommendation: 'The Salvo Project'
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@vifilms - TLOU, sapphic, she makes tumblr formatting her bitch
𖣂 At first it was your witty drabbles, then you graduated to 10k fics that take everyone's breath away. The way you can turn a single tiny idea into such a detailed work while also integrating the essence of each character you write into every single paragraph never fails to amaze me every time you appear on my feed. With your constantly changing layouts, and your beautifully crafted fic headers that show just how much of your heart goes into everything you put onto this app, you keep raising the bar again and again.
𖣂 My recommendation: 'Long Night, Long Ride'
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@sweetercalypso - TLOU, multi
𖣂 Also one of my first follows, I remember quite clearly scrolling through the Abby Anderson tag on ao3 and being so blown away that I basically did a cartwheel when I saw you on tumblr. Your fics are the perfect late-night fix that are to-the-point, and your drabbles are filled with every trope anyone could even think up. And I'll shamelessly admit that reading your fics definitely moved Joel up quite a few slots in who I liked most within tlou.
𖣂 My recommendations: 'Texas Hold 'Em' + 'Uncharted Territory'
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@the-kr8tor - Spiderverse, f/m, sfw
𖣂 I gotta say, this third movie needs to speed up so more people can come here and see how well you write for the spiderverse. Finding you in the tags was like a breath of fresh air, and your series works have kept me up at night on more than one occasion because of their binge-worthy goodness! From the adorable drabbles of Billie and Ramona, to the ups and downs that come with being a pirate, your works keep me invested even in the first, second....twenty-something times I've reread them.
𖣂 My recommendation: 'Our Place In The Middle Of Nowhere'
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@s-4pphics - TLOU, Arcane, sapphic
𖣂 I hope you know that when you released 'The Call', it kept me up at night. Seriously, you're a genius. Maybe this style has been written before but it's the first time I've seen it. And amidst all the Sevika and Vi works that were being pumped out after the release of season 2, that fucking gem was put on my feed and it genuinely blew my mind. It was the perfect combination of crack-style fic and dark humour, coming together to make this smutty, hilarious, jaw dropping fic that had me pacing around my room a couple times - one of my favourites of all time.
𖣂 My recommendation, obviously: 'The Call'
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@taintandviolent - Ahs, f/m, multi-fandom extraordinaire
𖣂 First of all, your username is fucking genius. Like actually, it had me saying it out loud and having such an OHHH moment and now I can't stop thinking about how cool it is. Secondly, if anyone has a taste for dark, gritty, horror infused tropes, or loves anything Evan Peters just like I do, her blog is the way to go. Her page is unapologetically for the monster-loving girlies who 'can fix him', and there's a little bit in there for every fandom that finds her. You're one of my favourite authors to send requests to, and you have definitely made me see Bill Skarsgard in a different light as of recent. 𖣂 My recommendation: 'Ouija Board’
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rinz-aspirinz · 2 days ago
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New idea: MC and Lucifer switch places. Not in a literal sense of course but think about it:
Lucifer used to work hard. MC used to have lots of free time to goof off with the brothers.
Now MC has tons of work and takes up Lucifer's too. Now Lucifer can spend time with his brothers and rest.
Lucifer used to get so little sleep and mostly relied on naps. MC used to sleep comfortably cuddling with the demon they feel most comfortable with, probably Mammon.
Now MC sleeps every night with nightmares. They also get up so early to make sure the brothers can get ready for the day without any problems. Now Lucifer can sleep comfortably with them.
Lucifer used to get lots of unwanted attention. Meanwhile MC faded into the background when they weren't a target for hungry demons.
Now everyone, even Diavolo's attention has switched to MC. Now Lucifer can get through the day without anyone bothering him.
I could go on FOREVER. Please can we talk about this.
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answer2jeff · 2 days ago
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beneath the ashes //
a carmen berzatto x reader series.
chapter 0, prologue.
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warnings : 18+!!!! drug abuse, suicide, smoking, uncomfortable and gut-wrenching situations, familial trauma, mentions of domestic violence, angst, carmen is cold and judgmental, Richie serves as a father figure and Claire is not a romantic interest.
word count: 1.6k
⁠disclaimer : if you can't understand the complexity and true excruciating nature of these topics outside of internet fiction, that's YOUR problem. writing about these things IS romanticizing them and i do understand that. i don't advise reading this fic if you're a recovering addict or are triggered by drug abuse, or literally anything else mentioned. reader in this fic is a complicated, messy, but deeply kind human being. reader is not in active addiction!!!!
addicts are not monsters. this is FICTION.
also, this series js going to take a LONG time to finish. real ones will stick around 💔💯
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Street lights, rain, more rain, ashes.
Ashes, ashes, ashes. The ones on the street wet with precipitation that slowly dissolve. The ones scattered on the tongue of your shoes, and the ones accumulating underneath your fingernails and coating your breath in a thick, sickly film of burnt tobacco. Your jaw is shaking. You're absolutely sick with shame. If you could bottle up this feeling and sell it for just a measly 25 cents a pop, you'd be in the islands right now. A margarita in hand, your skin supple and tanned. But no, you're back here at Mikey's place. Actually, you're not even in his place. You're out in the moist cold, sitting here on the porch, your ass numbing from the hard wood and your jeans soaking up the mucky rainwater. This time, you've been thrown out. Mikey can't keep you here forever. He has to get better, even if that means doing it without you. It didn't matter he'd taken you in last year. You're no longer a "kid." You're "a fucking mess." The sun is gone, and a part of you has left with it. Crumbs of powdery Xanax hide in the ridges of your teeth. Your 3rd cigarette trembles in your boney fingers. His final straw was when you told him his dope was better for him than you ever will be. The way you talked about yourself angered him to no end, and it wasn't because he cared. A victim, he saw you as. A coward, he took you for. Mikey has a family to impress. You know he'll go back to hiding the drain of heroin all of his money flows down to in just a few days. He can't accept it. He has to get better, right? Mikey wants out, and you can't wait to get in even deeper.
It's been 16 days since then. Faces of grieving siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins cloud your mind...but one of them is missing. That one particular makes you feel an unfamiliar sensation of guilt. Carmen. Mikey is dead and Carmen isn't here. Denial clouds your judgment. There was no possible way Mikey could really be dead and Carmen isn't here, right? He's the only one who knows that you were the last person Mikey called before his body was found with his gun in hand on February 22nd, 2022. His phone and wallet were left untouched on the bridge. It's February 24th now. How quickly funerals occur has always bothered you. The tension headache that wraps around your forehead and trails to the back of your skull has put unbearable weight on your sinuses. Your nose is bleeding, and your once soft hands are growing calluses from your nails digging into the flesh of your palms every time you wish you could drag Micheal Berzatto out of the goddamn ground yourself. The abyss of silence as you sit alone in a continuous row of the pew is broken by the scratch of Sugar clearing her throat, that will soon close with disbelief that her older brother is lifeless beside her. Her hands shake as she grounds herself on the podium. There's a small piece of white copy paper in her hand. She glances from the hidden words to the microphone. Seconds pass and she says nothing. Instead, she gags from feeling so utterly abandoned she could projectile vomit all over the podium. You can't bare to watch. With closed eyes, you let the world unravel before you.
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Richie wipes the dried drool of sleep from the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, his facial hair absorbing most of the crusted saliva. His lanky arm supports his body weight against the door frame. Of course, instead of inviting you in, he keeps you in the cold morning dew. You've been standing here, your shoes scuffing over the doormat and your hair slowly getting frizzier from the humidity since 7:15. It's now 7:45, and all you've talked about is Richie's new life plan. He's really turning around. Y'know—he doesn't smell like a thrift store anymore. His breath is minty, but still has that twinge of tobacco. He finally says something so far underneath his raspy voice that you nearly missed it as you yawned with a hand over your mouth.
"I think you should come to friends and family night."
The invitation makes you nervous. You wonder if Carmen has changed at all, because you sure have. After all, you're sober now. Your eyes are no longer sunken in with grief and longing for acceptance outside of what substances gave you. You can actually fucking think now. The brain fog has cleared.
"Yeah?" you tilt your head, Richie nodding in response. He reaches for a pack of camels from his back pocket. He shuffles a cigarette from the pack, holding it between two dry fingers, giving you the 'you want?' look. Richie hasn't offered you a smoke since the day he found out you were using. It was, coincidentally, the day you decided to get sober. Which just so happened to be hours before Mikey's death. Nonetheless, you nodded. It feels nice to not be treated like a little girl in a candy store who can't be reasoned with, let alone control herself. While nicotine wasn't the drug that controlled every aspect of your life for nearly 3 years—it still felt wrong to Richie.
Lovingly, he attempts to light it for you, fumbling with the guard of the lighter. The constant clicking sound. Fuck, it fills you with dread. Finally the cigarette is set aflame.
"Okay, I'll see you then."
"You're gonna love it, kid."
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While you're sitting at the glossy marble table watching bubbles of carbonated alcohol rise to the mid section of the glass, Carmen is pacing. He pretends he can sees the faces of the dozens of people waiting on their meal. They're angry. They're dissatisfied. It's no surprise to him that he is in fact projecting, and no one is angrier than Carmen Berzatto in this very moment. Sydney is a close second. She's no longer willing to babysit him, she says. Richie is a fool. Fak is a klutz. None of this is new. Oh, how receptive this has all become. You're with friends who don't know a thing about you, your appetite has disappeared, and you picture Richie keeping roll as you hear his voice through the frosted glass. Carmen shouts as he walks through the doors into the kitchen, the air so thick with flavor and heat he could choke. It's almost unintelligible. No one else seems to notice but you.
"Fuck!" He roars, but he's drowned in the sound of kitchen clogs squeaking and fires caramelizing food. For a minute, he's thankful no one can hear him. That is until he arrives with a bottle of Rosé your table ordered from Richie moments before. Carmen knows he's being watched, sure. This is his restaurant. Claire-Bear, the girl who's been like his little sister since middle school, is staring with worried eyes as her boyfriend talks her ear off about his software job. She'd rather be cooked alive than listen to another wave of his voice. Needless to say, he moves past her swiftly. The closer he gets to your table the faster your heart beats against your tight chest. Finally, he sees you. His mouth gapes open just a few centimeters, his grip on the bottle barely loosening. Eyebrows all around the table are raising with excitement, and yours are still drawn together in worry.
"Good evening guys, uh—here is the bottle of La Belle—best of 2022, actually. Who's up for a first taste?" Carmen asks the table, secretly hoping you'll volunteer.
As if your friends can read his mind, Diane tilts your head your direction.
"Sure," you croak. "Hit me."
Carmen's tattooed hand unscrews the cap. The peachy pink wine slugs out like a waterfall from the lid, stopping just so you get a few drops of the liquid gold. His eyes are glued to the glass, but you watch him intently through the whole affair. He's oddly beautiful. With curls that have grown too long and his blue eyes have only filled with more determination, it hurts to look away. And yet, he is worried that if his eyes meet yours, you could somehow disappear.
But again, you just can't look away.
By the time his head rises again to hand you the glass, your eyes are already gleaming with wonder and questions. His heart fucking aches with not a clue in the world as to why. You haven't spoken in months. Maybe this is an apology. Not that he felt that you deserved one, no. It would just lift it from his thoughts. But he's lying. Of course you deserved to hear the words "I'm sorry." His own mind races with ideas of you, hating you. Hating what you dragged Mikey into, hating how easily you hid it, hating how much he wished he could reverse time and just fucking be there for him. For you. You always felt so close and yet so, so far away from Carmen. So detached, just like him.
You're aware that he's watching you now. You look tired. Carefully, you swish the wine around, soaking in the aromatic scent before you give it a taste. Of course, the Rosé is delicious. You blink slowly, nodding in approval.
"It's perfect."
"I'm glad," Carmen smiles.
The tension grows stronger. Finally, he looks away to Diane, Kyler, and Sophie. Not because he wants to be of hospitality, but because he just can't bare to feel this way any longer.
You place your orders with a heavy heart. Carmen walks away for the last time that night, and you're once again worried you may never see him again, the way you worried all those years ago.
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acourtofaudacity · 3 days ago
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Why would a fated mates author write mating bond language for characters in her books if she wasn't going to write fated mates?
Why would she say things like tension and growth if the couple is already in love and their love will "trump even a mating bond".
While some people have used this to suggest foreshadowing, I don't believe it has anything to do with Elriel. It highlights how Elain's engagement ended because Graysen couldn't get past the fact that she was mated to "some Fae Lord" (which Elain retorted with "his name is Lucien"). Elain goes on to say that the mating bond means nothing. Again this shows her feelings about the mating bond because not only did her becoming Fae take away her humanity, it also took away her engagement with Graysen and she was desperate to keep Graysen n in her life. It highlights her heartbreak and her love for him and that despite the circumstances she still wanted to marry him.
Why would a fated mates author write characters with similar traits and write that one of them looks at the other with "sadness and longing" if the mating bond was going to be broken? Sure it could be one sided but he is literally willing to wait forever for her because he loves her.
Why would another character that is supposedly Elain's love interest feel a spark in his chest for another female (mating languages and imagine her face lighting up, if the author was going to write a love that "trumps even a mating bond".
I also see that there is a contrast between looking at someone with pity and "She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen"
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booigi-boi · 2 days ago
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How my video chat with the Tin Can Bros went 🐐💛
I got to talk to the three of them separately with a special guest (James and Mariah) so I'll put this into three sections (writing this down mostly for my awful memory, gonna be long)
Brian and James
First thing Brian said when the call started was "have you gotten any new tattoos since the last time we saw you?" A: No :(
He and James asked about Finland and what it is like
I was asked something about what is my fav thing about Finland (minus sauna) and I said the nature. I told them to visit northern Finland both during summer and winter cause the nature is fucking amazing, ok? They googled it and James said he's putting it on his list, lol
Brian asked while googling if I've ever been to the Snow Castle in Kemi, and I laughed a little and said I was actually born there so yeah, I've been there multiple times
I was also asked if there's something I'd like the rest of the world to know about Finland
I answered how I hate how other countries have turned saunas into a luxury item, when in Finland literally every house and apartment building has a sauna. Also told them the correct way to pronounce sauna
James asked me how I learned about TCB. Said I discovered SK in mid 2018 and somehow figured TCB was also a thing. He also asked how I got into Shipwrecked, and to that I just said Spies Are Forever. Brian nodded and said "they're cool"
(Honestly, I'm leaving so much out cause we really just talked about my country and how happy it is, lol)
Corey and Mariah
Brian and James left for another call once Corey and Mariah joined (I didn't expect them to do this call like this tbh /neutral)
Mariah was excited about the fact I'm Finnish, she was enjoying meeting people all over the world
Corey asked if I had any questions for them and I had to admit I suck at asking questions and never know what to say (he was cool with my child brain)
Mariah said she had so many questions she would have liked to ask me. She really liked looking at the wall behind me and seeing all the shit I have on there
Then my cat decided she wanted attention and hopped on the table and made herself known to them. Told them she was Lotta and she's 14
After a while Corey asked me what my fav project from the Tinlightenment was, and I said I've been most excited for Gross Prophets. Corey revealed it's going to be difficult to rehears it without an audience and it's apparently super silly (in a good way)
Before they left Mariah asked me what was my fav movie or musical or anything so she could get to know what I'm all about, so I excitedly told her about Tetsuo the Iron Man (more about this later)
Then Joey joined all alone and it was time for Corey and Mariah to leave
Joey
Joey didn't have a guest with him so it was just me and him on a call together. He complimented my long ass vampire nails
He heard us talking about movies and asked me about it, so I said how Mariah asked me about my fav movie
He got a little excited and asked me about it, so I told him about Tetsuo, and how it's one of those movies that you're either going to love cause how artistic it is, or say wtf did I just watch
He got intrigued and googled it and read its description. He was interested (pls google it)
He read reviews and said how it's either 5 stars or 1 star, and I told him it is very 50/50
He put it on his list and promised to tell me once he had watched it :3 (hopefully not on discord cause I don't use it, lol)
Then before time was up, he asked me about my hospital stay last year (which I didn't talk about publicly and he was one of the few people that knew about it). It was kinda nice of him to ask about it and ask if I was good now (I am)
One last thing he asked about before he had to leave was if I was going to the new Starkid concert this year, and I said no, unfortunately. Maybe he was little saddened about it, but he told me last year wasn't that long ago and we might see each other again at some point
Then he wished me a good rest of the day and told me we'd see each other soon (next month when I again embarrass myself in Quiplash)
One last note, but I was kinda surprised how Joey didn't apologise to me for the 100th time for something he promised me back in 2023 and still hasn't done it, especially since he seems to apologise about it any time we have an interaction, lol (but I'll talk about it more when that happens, shhh)
Sorry if it was all so long, but I did leave out stuff too, sksks. Honestly, I kinda needed this, it was nice talking to people and they're all so easy to talk to 💞 James and Mariah were a nice surprise, can't wait for Gross Prophets 👉👈
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possible-burger · 3 days ago
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Campaign 3 Episode 120 ramblings
This is long, I have a lot of thoughts.
Bells Hells were literally just told by the Matron of Ravens that the armies of Vasselheim were on their way to the moon to lock them in, effectively killing them, and there are people up in arms about them being short with them? These people are running on fumes. Not just this last hellish day, but for months, they have not taken their foot off the gas in service of this mission. They are battered, bruised, and traumatized. They get to be a little grumpy.
Did it turn out the way Vasselheim wanted? Absolutely not, but why should it? It's clear that the current power structure in Exandria is due for reform, why should the wants of Vasselheim be the end all, be all of that discussion?
"Bells Hells shouldn't be the ones to make that decision, they are too neutral." ...Isn't neutrality kind of important in this situation? With the threat of a second calamity, or the destruction of the pantheon hanging over their heads, Bells Hells have taken this shit show from the trolley problem, to building a new track together as a unit.
"They could have just left after defeating Ludinus! They are just following his plan!" You don't think that wouldn't have come with its own consequences? What lengths do you think Vasselheim would go to, to kick this problem down the road again. We saw "one of the good gods" exhibit authoritarian rule over a town, just to secure that point of heightened power. Is that gonna get better with Vasselheim calling the shots? The information is out there, there will be more Ruidisborn. Might not be soon, but it will happen again.
This was never Luda's plan. He wanted revenge, no matter the cost. No discussions. No other options. We don't know the outcome of the next stage in Bells Hells plan. The gods could convince Imogen to go back to the moon before she loses control, condemning herself to death so things could continue on as they have been. They could step down from their thrones, and live mortal lives, or run forever from Predathos. Or new information could be gathered, and an entirely new plan could be formed.
Point being, they now at least have options to come together and rebuild on a level playing ground, and I am so proud of them for that.
(Also, on a meta level, Matt and crew have been working on that boss battle for months, and the story has been building up to this for three years. There was no way all of that time, effort and money were going to go to waste. Let's be real here gang)
Yes the world of Exandria will change. We don't know to what extent, but I promise you, the 8 players and DM who have spent the last 10 years of their real actual lives, building, and playing in this world, will continue to do their best, and to leave it better than they found it.
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miyakazashi · 4 hours ago
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Prepare for the worst guys...
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The Link Click fandom is going crazy over this on Twitter, and I'm gonna bring the chaos over here too 😉 I mean we might as well lose our sh*t together, right ?
I want to talk about the "see you later" thing, since the artist works for the sgdlr people, I decided it was only right to see this from a Chinese angle, "see you later", despite a not so common translation, can literally translate to “再見”, and even though “再見” is typically used in the sense where you'd see the person again, even when someone dies, the phrase is also used to ask you to say your goodbyes to the deceased, “好好說再見” or something on the lines of that, like more of a goodbye forever thing.
I don't like where this is going 🥹🥹🥹 help
And on Twitter there are two main analysis/arguments I'm seeing right now
1. Vein is going to die
The stairs symbolizes Vein taking the steps to the after life, and leaving his cloak behind is kind of a passing the torch thing.
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Plus the "person in the middle theory" I'm seeing on twitter
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2. Xia Fei is going to die
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Oh, and what about my thoughts ? No thoughts, I'd rather just be in the dark and wait until episode 6, then start crying and screaming :D cause right now it seems like there is no chance of a good ending at all, so I don't even want to think about it anymore even tho I'm probably still gonna, but we could pray to the sgdlr gods to just sacrifice Cheng Weimin for the greater good 😃 sounds like a lovely idea, right guys ?
But yeah, I guess we're expecting these kinds of endings next episode
Vein dies
Xia Fei dies
Cheng Xiaoshi dies again in this arc (which is honestly what I'm hoping for, look it's nothing personal, I like cxs just as much as most of the fandom, it's just...I don't want any new deaths, and it's the only other reasonable option and it also ties back to the entire, Lu guang's first attempt at saving him thing, maybe I'm just coping but I think this is the most likely and also the safest option for the fandom)
Cheng Weimin dies😃 which is unhinged, I know, but tell me you wouldn't want this😃😃
While I'm writing this my neighbor is literally playing some emotional songs on the piano, Istg please stop 🥹🥹
Currently the safest people in the fandom are the Liu Xiao simps btw, the contrast is actually comical, while multiple sides of the fandom are crying, screaming, breaking down, the Liu Xiao simps are just sipping tea in one corner of the room, might as well migrate there for a while to avoid the inevitable pain
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everestgale · 1 day ago
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Spectre from STP
With pleasure :]
[Send Me a Character and I'll List Ask Game]
favorite thing about them
Her contrast, the different facets of her personality that make her, well, her. She is kind, cheery, and understanding, but she is also firm, can be threatening, and takes absolutely 0 of our bullshit. And the best part is that all of these make perfect sense - she is kind because she is hopeful you'll repent and help her leave (and perhaps because your perception skews more positive of her, after learning of what the Narrator puts you through as a "reward"), but she also never lets you forget that you still killed her in cold blood.
least favorite thing about them
This will probably be true for most StP characters, I can't think of any specific that I dislike about pretty much all of them. So most of the time, if it's going to be anything, it'll be something very minor and silly - in this case, it's Spectre's tattered skirt on her dress (it's hard to draw, that's literally it)
favorite line
"All I know is there's a hole in my chest, and not the big obvious one that you put there. There's something older and deeper. A nagging reminder that I'm not where I'm supposed to be."
...honorable mention goes to: "But if you're just leaving me then... then I'm really just going to be stuck here forever. Th-there's nothing I can do, it's just going to go on and on and on and on, lonely and sad and hurting and empty."
brOTP
I like to imagine a close friendship between Nightmare and Spectre! No particular reason (besides them being a shared pair routes), but there is something fun about them hanging out and chatting while drinking some nice tea :]
OTP
Definitely SpectreCold! There is just something really beautiful about how much they contrast each other and yet, ultimately, both yearn for similar things, it's just all feelings, connection, longing. I started really, really liking them after this post by @/wintergrofyuri. Go read it! They explain my own feelings on this ship way better than I ever could (T v T)
nOTP
Don't think I really have those for her <3 Or honestly, in general, I have very few nOTPs :]
random headcanon
I kind of mentioned it in the first question, but I think that part of the reason why she's so kind and understanding is because your / TLQ's perception of her changes as a result of the Narrator trying to shove you into the Good Ending™. Up until that point, you follow the Narrator without question and so when he essentially betrays you... you begin to see him as the "villain" of this story. And since you didn't have much of a chance to really get to know the princess before you killed her... I'd like to think that this shift in perspective also contributes to Spectre's cheery and hopeful attitude :]
unpopular opinion
I don't think it's all that unpopular, but we need more sassy and threatening Spectre <3 This is a self-callout more than anything because I'm very guilty of drawing and writing her as too kind and sweet ^^;;;
song i associate with them
"earth child's lullaby" by TOFIE fits quite nicely :]
"Close your eyes Breathe the night Come home, return Be held by the earth, now"
favorite picture of them
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Look at her! She is so pretty :]
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ghxstmouse · 2 days ago
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Oh wait, so you just cheat all the time? I thought your daddy was also your boyfriend?
So I wasn’t gonna explain my dynamic in this but I feel like it’s a good learning experience! Not really sure what you mean by “so you just cheat all the time?” It’s pretty clear in my content and on my socials all my partners are consenting adults who know about each other.✨
So I have my main partner who’s my actual life partner. As some would say my boyfriend. We talk and do things with each other everyday. (The bedtime routine FaceTime dates every night keep me going 🥺) He’s literally the LOVE of my life. Makes me ridiculously happy and I could go on forever but that would be boring for you. I call him The Dad™️ when I’m not tagging him but you can follow him here. @terryclothdaydreams ❤️
My play partner is the person you’ve been seeing lately with no tags. I’m not tagging him because he doesn’t exist to tag him. He has his own life and even though we never see each other much it’s fun to play house with them sometimes. We are close friends who do kinky things sometimes. Stop being jealous. K. 🤷🏻‍♀️
Guess you could add @lila-in-littlespace because she’s my “wife” and we do way more naughty things together than my play partner does. 😅 We are literally making a strap on video next month. (Hope you’re excited because I am!)
Just because I post content with someone doesn’t make me a “cheater” I practice open communication & sex education and I’m just gonna keep making rad content. If you’re not interested or you’re trying to get a rise out of me ✨fuck off kindly✨ Your actions stink worst than my messy diapers.🥲
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gay-on-the-moon · 12 hours ago
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SSGA Expanded Author's Notes ch. 5
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ao3 link
Woohoo! author's notes. This will also be a great place for me to dump all the terrible jokes that don't make it into the final cut. This is the struggle of being a fandom of 1 but SOMEBODY has to do it. (literally nobody has to do it.)
Do I intend to go back and complete one of these for all my previous chapters? Yes. Will I? The mystery remains.
I warned y'all there were rocky waters on the way, that slow burn tag isn't a lie. Part of the reason I find Viktor and Jayce's relationship so interesting is what I see as all the near misses, "in all realities only you" and all that. They're also VERY alike in a lot of ways, they support each others strengths buuut that leaves an awful lot of exposed weaknesses for me to jab at.
Viktor, Sevika, Mel and Noxia, I picture all of the different schemes like a multiplayer game of chess. Viktor is doing his best with the pieces he has, Jayce thinks he's living in a rom-com and doesn't realize there's a board.
~*~and they don't talk about it~*~
I could write forever on my obsession with Viktor's mind, just call me Jayce. One of the aspects of this AU that originally drew my attention was the opportunity to explore the ways in which his coping mechanisms go from being necessary for survival to actively hindering him.
They WILL talk absolutely everything out eventually, their fights hurt me to write lol.
My fave way to world build is to just let the characters naturally share details without necessarily always giving a wall of explanatory text. My brain is full of useless historical information, the index would be a mile long, none of it would actually be relevant to the plot. I always disliked the "treat a reader like an idiot" advice because my least favorite parts of media tend to be when a so-far well explained story pauses to have a character sit down and tell me things I'd already basically figured out.
Is it too little instead? I'm also always tempted to write a chapter from Jayce's POV, hasn't happened yet. I think there's one more major piece of information (ooo apprenticeship drama) I'm waiting to reveal before we get a look inside Jayce's head. "(yay, toxic waste settlement)" has to be in my top 5 favorite lines so far.
I've also been eagerly awaiting the introduction of Ambessa, would y'all believe it's only starting to get complicated? The action is rising whether our little team of heroes are ready for it or not.
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sstarfruitz · 23 hours ago
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hello! i recently got into tsp and really like ur art! i was wondering what is ur fav angsty trope in relation to stanley and the narrator? i need more angsty scenarios to think about :p
oh hoh hoh hoh…………. ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….. dont even start with me bro……..
I absolutely love when people explore the more toxic parts of Stanley and Narrator’s dynamic. The fact that Narrator definitely has sadistic tendencies if the Countdown ending is anything to go by, and how he is so insanely egotistical that he finds it appropriate to make Stanley’s life a living hell whenever he doesn’t follow his orders. His whole entire being revolves around his pride as a storyteller in a story that has no end or reason. He is destined to stay in this purgatory forever if he doesn’t let his ego go, but the purgatory is so specifically designed to reinforce it that it seems impossible it could ever happen.
It’s literally like if a spoiled child was given control over a dimension, but that spoiled child is also genuinely unsympathetic and callous. His role in the game reminds me a lot of Bill Cipher in that regard.
And on the other hand, you have Stanley, a completely average and unknowing man who was suddenly spawned into this world, and the Narrator only sees him as a toy. I’m of the belief that Stanley had an entire life he lived before the Parable, and when he was chosen as the protagonist, he was stripped of his ability to speak, ability to have any privacy, and his ability to control his life in any meaningful way. Because the Narrator is so far removed from humanity and sympathy, he quite literally can never understand why this would be such an awful existence for Stanley.
Stanley is also so stubborn and prideful in his own way that he constantly tries to prove his own autonomy to himself and the Narrator in an environment where it’s impossible. Even if Stanley wanted to try and communicate with the Narrator, his voice has been forcibly removed from him both physically and metaphorically. Narrator’s power over him is so beyond Stanley’s control, that the Narrator could never really see Stanley’s thoughts and feelings as anything but an inconvenience for him.
To the Narrator, Stanley’s life and wellbeing is secondary to his role in the story. To Stanley, it’s his whole existence. To Stanley, the Narrator’s role in the story is secondary to his power and control seeping into Stanley’s every thought and action. To the Narrator, it’s his whole existence.
The two are quite literally such opposites that they could never understand the other, so they are destined to always make the lives of the other worse in a situation that is already hell for the both of them.
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eonni92 · 1 day ago
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I’ve never had a story gifted to me, and I am blown away by your thoughtfulness. This was everything I could have wished for and more. So so beautiful ❤️
If I have any talent at all in video editing, you far succeed me when it comes to the written word something I have very little skill with.
I was literally vibrating in my seat while reading this!
“According to the law, I am not family.”
A thunk beside Jihoon makes him jump, and he looks over to see the back of Hyeok’s head hitting the wall as Hyeok stares balefully at the ceiling, chuckling bitterly.
“And neither am I.”
Sobbing for these two men that want nothing more than to see their loved one and being denied because of ridiculous harmful legalities.
Hyeok has long considered Joowon family, but his inner turmoil over whether Joowon considers him family - Is he overstepping? Does Joowon even want him here? - to realizing Joowon was protecting him the whole time, was beautiful agony to read 🥹 and of course Hyeok is willing to fight tooth and nail to give his baby brother anything he wants.
JOOWON’S LUNATIC
This is canon to me now. Hyeok has Lee Dongsik saved in his phone as this forever and ever. Long after they’re married.
The undignified squeal I let out when I realized Han Joowon was talking to Park Jeongje was for real. I have a huge soft spot for my deer drawing man. Han Joowon and Park Jeongje have so much in common and yet not. Han Joowon and Park Jeongje both raised by abusive parents. Both feel so much guilt (even if Dongsik tries to absolve Joowon). I love seeing the compassion Joowon has for Jeongje.
“You’re not his guest. You’re mine, Park Jeongje-ssi.”
Does he look at Park Jeongje and see himself if he had made different choices?
Jaeyi as Joowon’s emergency contact BUT THE WHY OF IT ALL
And can we talk about the concert tickets for Kang Minjeong’s birthday because I can’t 😭
“It’s not a competition of who loves the other more, you know.”
“I certainly don’t want to lose.”
May Han Joowon never loose his competitive spirit!
From his position lying prone on the hospital bed, Joowon lets out a snort. “That man has ostentatious tastes. He’d do well to humble himself and expand his horizons.”
Oh Joowon… my baby… how far you have come
I could go on and on, but this already has too many words for my inarticulate self lol. I can only thank you with this poorly written but sincere response to this beautiful gift!
THANK YOU SO MUCH ❤️
“Noona!”
The sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor fills the eerily quiet corridor of the hospital as Jihoon skids to a halt in front of his sister.
He takes one look at the somber faces looking up at him, and immediately feels his body break out in a cold sweat as his stomach plummets. “Noona…?”
He hears how his own voice sounds small and shaky—not unlike the time when he was just a kid and he had just found out that he would be living with his big sister now as his legal guardian.
“He’s currently undergoing surgery,” Jihwa answers Jihoon’s unspoken question as she runs a hand distractedly through her hair, and Jihoon’s heart twists at how exhausted his sister sounds, not unlike all those nights she’d come home late from pulling double shifts to support them both because their mother had a new family.
The relief that instantly courses through Jihoon makes his body sag weakly as he falls onto the nearest seat, followed by the immediate dread that they’re not out of the woods just yet. “What happened?”
“Car accident,” Hyeok speaks up from beside him, and Jihoon can’t help but marvel at how calm the prosecutor sounds. Lawyers’ nerves must be made of steel, Jihoon muses.
He furrows his brows as the words sink in. “But…” Jihoon says slowly, “he always drives safely.”
“Yes. He does.” This time, Jihoon can detect the grim bitterness of Hyeok’s tone. “He wasn’t the problem.”
The seat across the hallway creaks as Jihwa flops down on it with a heavy sigh. “Drunk truck driver beating the red light crashed onto him at a crossroad. The other driver is also currently undergoing surgery at another operating room, and Dosoo-ya is conferring with the medical team there regarding the DUI case.”
“DUI…”
Jihoon trails off as his gaze finally lands on the lone man slumped over at the other end of the corridor. The fluorescent light directly above is flickering, casting the despondent figure in shadow.
“Dongsik-hyung…” Jihoon trembles. “Why are you here?”
He feels both Hyeok’s and Jihwa’s gazes turn to him in silent, outraged disbelief, and Jihoon swifty shakes his head.
“Why are you here—” Jihoon whispers as he gestures at the bleak corridor they’re all stuck in, “—and not in there with Joowon-hyung?”
He feels a hand on his knee, and his gaze snaps to his sister, who has reached across the hallway to touch him tenderly.
“Inspector Han is in critical care,” Jihwa tells him softly. “Strictly family only.”
Jihoon opens his mouth.
“And to answer your question, Jihoon-ah…”
The words die on Jihoon’s lips as Dongsik finally raises his head to meet Jihoon’s eyes.
Dongsik has never looked so—lifeless, like this.
Not since Yuyeon was finally cremated.
“According to the law, I am not family.”
A thunk beside Jihoon makes him jump, and he looks over to see the back of Hyeok’s head hitting the wall as Hyeok stares balefully at the ceiling, chuckling bitterly.
“And neither am I.”
The beeping pattern that has lulled her into a fitful sleep suddenly changes, and the sound breaks through the haze of her semi-consciousness.
Blearily, Jaeyi uncurls herself from the tiny sofa bed to peer at the monitors—and then at the patient to whom all of it is attached.
The drowsiness instantly disappears. “Inspector Han!” she gasps as she throws away the blanket draped over her legs and sways a bit on her feet from the dizziness of standing up too quickly. “You’re awake!”
Her instinct to go to him is immediately overridden by the memory of the nurses’ strict reminder to contact them as soon as the patient regains consciousness, and Jaeyi quickly reaches for the call button.
The fingers that curl around her wrist are weak, but insistent.
“Wait,” Joowon rasps, voice hoarse from being previously intubated during surgery. “Not yet.”
The herculean effort to speak seems to already drain so much out of Joowon that it makes Jaeyi relent. Instead, she pulls out a chair to sit close by his bedside. “How are you feeling?” she gently inquires, trying her best to mask her worry.
Joowon lolls his head to the side to look at her with a swollen face full of bruises and stitches, and manages to offer a small smile. “Like I was just crushed by a giant truck.”
Jaeyi smiles back tremblingly despite herself. “Your doctors don’t have to worry about psychological damage to your brain, considering your sense of humor remains the same.”
“Hilarious?”
“Non-existent.”
A soft gust of breath escapes Joowon’s lips before the laughter is quickly smothered by a grimace of pain. Jaeyi bites her lip anxiously. “Should I be calling the nurses now?”
“No,” Joowon repeats firmly, and Jaeyi is a little taken aback at how vehement he sounds. Joowon must have registered her surprise because he then quietly, shamefully confesses: “I don’t like being around medical professionals.”
Jaeyi’s eyebrows rise dubiously, but she holds her tongue, respectfully—smartly—waiting.
Eventually, Joowon takes a deep breath and, as if the admission pains him, closes his eyes as he explains:
“They were often at our house when I was a child. Their presence meant my mother has once again attempted to kill herself.”
Jaeyi doesn’t know if Joowon is keeping his eyes firmly shut for his benefit, or for hers. Either way, she is immensely grateful for it, because Joowon doesn’t need to see the cold waves of shock, rage, shared grief and unwanted pity that slams over her in quick succession, the vicious intensity knocking the breath out of her lungs.
Right now, Joowon needs her to be strong—so she will be.
“Would you like me to call someone else then?” she instead gently suggests. “Prosecutor Kwon has been waiting to hear from you.”
She pauses, letting the weight of her next words hold meaning as she softly adds: “And so is ahjussi.”
Joowon’s eyes flutter open.
And it takes Jaeyi’s breath away, the way Joowon’s entire countenance changes. His features soften, brows crinkling with concern, as he once again turns to her and worriedly asks:
“Has he eaten?”
And it says so much about how far Joowon has come in opening up his heart, because he now completely understands—and fluently speaks—the love language of Lee Dongsik.
She swallows against the lump that suddenly forms in her throat—and lies.
“Yes.”
“Ahjussi...”
“Jaeyi-ya? Why are you crying?”
“Ahjussi… I’m on my way to the hospital right now… please… you have to come…”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“It’s—It’s Inspector Han.”
“… What? You—how—”
“I don’t know why, ahjussi, and I found out just now when the hospital called my number unexpectedly, but—Inspector Han listed me as his emergency contact.”
Not for the first time, Hyeok wonders how he somehow always finds himself sharing a table with all of these strange people.
It hasn’t been that long ago when they were all mere strangers to him—just another list of names in his ever-growing pile of case files.
Now, however…
Jaeyi arrives with a tray laden with so much food that it makes Hyeok’s eyes widen at how heavy it all looks. He scrambles to his feet and tries to help, but Jaeyi merely shoos him away, leaving him standing there awkwardly as she begins doling out the soup bowls.
“I can’t keep lying to Inspector Han,” Jaeyi proclaims resolutely, “so you all better eat.”
Dosoo peers at the huge serving bowl Jaeyi is ladling from. “Your budae jjigae looks much more appetizing than this, Jaeyi-ah.” He wrinkles his nose. “Smells much better too.”
“And no doubt tastes better too,” Jaeyi smoothly adds, which makes everyone at the table crack a smile for the first time in a long while. “But this is all the hospital cafeteria has to offer, and we have to eat this in honor of Inspector Han.”
Hyeok blinks. In honor of—
“It’s Joowon-hyung’s favorite,” Jihoon says softly when he sees Hyeok’s visible confusion. His voice is a little warbled, his eyes still red and puffy, shoulders trembling as he tries to stifle his silent sobs.
Tightly cradled in Jihoon’s hands is a letter envelope he’s clutching preciously close to his heart.
The sound of stainless steel scraping over wood pulls Hyeok’s attention, and he finds himself staring at a bowl of steaming budae jjigae that has been pushed towards him.
He looks up—and Dongsik smiles warmly at him.
“Eat, Prosecutor Kwon. Joowon-ie would have all of our heads if he finds out we’ve been starving you.”
No, he wouldn’t. He never used to care about whether or not I eat.
The bitter thought comes to him unbidden, and the sting of it makes his throat tighten.
He slowly returns to his seat as everyone at the table digs in, hunger finally overtaking worry and fatigue as the need to replenish their energy makes itself known if they are to continue their vigil.
It’s going to be a long night ahead for all of them.
Hyeok stares at the bowl in front of him as he cycles through his haphazard thoughts, desperately trying to reconcile what everyone else is telling him with what he knows.
Han Joowon hates any food with broth. He hates Korean food. He hates anything that has to do with Korea, because he has always hated coming back here.
Because all of it reminded him of his father.
When did all of that change? Do I even know him at this point?
Who even am I to Han Joowon?
“Don’t take it against him.”
Hyeok nearly leaps out of his skin—since when does Lee Dongsik have the power to read minds?
There’s a knowing glint in the other man’s eyes as Dongsik smirks at him.  “And don’t take it against her either,” Dongsik adds as he juts his chin towards Jaeyi, who looks startled at being singled out. “You know why Joowon-ie couldn’t have made you his emergency contact, Prosecutor Kwon.”
No, he thinks sourly, I don’t.
The table falls silent as Dongsik continues to slurp and chew with gusto, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. Unable to take it anymore, Jihwa lets out an exasperated sigh and Dongsik jumps beside her.
Hyeok’s mouth quirks despite himself; Jihwa appears to have kicked Dongsik under the table.
“What?” Dongsik grumbles as Jihwa tilts her head meaningfully towards Hyeok. “He knows he once worked for Han Kihwan, that’s why Joowon-ie is publicly distancing himself from Prosecutor Kwon.”
Chills run down Hyeok’s spine. Whatever he’s been expecting, it isn’t this.
Slapping him across the face would have hurt far less.
“Ahjussi,” Jaeyi says softly. “You should word that better.”
Dongsik looks up from his bowl and finally realizes all eyes are on him. He swallows the mouthful he’s been chewing and eventually fixates his gaze on Hyeok.
Beneath the table, Hyeok’s tightly balled fists are shaking.
Dongsik puts his chopsticks down.
“Emergency contact records are private data that can only be accessed in crises situations by healthcare providers or by authorized representatives. And that includes family.”
Dongsik pauses to let the weight of his next words sink in.
“Han Joowon’s actual family.”
Dongsik spits the word out like vile poison—and the realization slams upon Hyeok.
“The public records of you consistently meeting with Han Kihwan were plenty. Aside from the official logs at his office and the traceable calls and messages on both your phones, there were a significant number of CCTV cameras proving you had been meeting with him even well beyond office doors and office hours. You had even been spotted several times at the Han residence.”
Hyeok’s blood runs cold—because he suddenly, truly understands.
He does know Han Joowon. Far, far too well.
“Han Kihwan is currently undergoing appeals to lighten his sentence,” Dongsik is saying. “And one of the ways he can do that—“
“—is if he can prove he has an accomplice,” Hyeok finishes quietly.
Their table has become a silent, unwitting audience to the tense stalemate between them. The rigid set of Dongsik’s shoulders suddenly sags, and Hyeok knows, with a pang in his chest, that the hell on earth brought upon by Han Kihwan is still burning.
And at the center of the pyre—are Han Joowon and Lee Dongsik.
“Han Kihwan knows he can’t beat you, Prosecutor Kwon.” Hyeok’s gaze is arrested by the way Dongsik reaches for his water glass and lets out a humorless chuckle. “Nor can he defeat the son that you raised. He knows far too well that you are both far too smart for him. So instead, he’ll do the next best thing.”
Dongsik takes a swig from the glass, wipes his mouth with back of his hand, and slams the glass back down on the table, spilling water everywhere.
“Han Kihwan is going to bring you down with him, Prosecutor Kwon.”
There’s a reason, Hyeok abruptly realizes with terrified awe, why Lee Dongsik is Han Joowon’s chosen partner. Why Lee Dongsik has never feared the pyre Han Kihwan has lit.
“And Han Joowon will never let that happen.”
Those are the eyes of a lunatic who will follow Han Joowon straight into hell.
“Can I see him?”
“Name, please?”
“Lee Dongsik.”
“Relation to the patient?”
“I’m his partner.”
“… Han Joowon-nim’s business partner?”
“His partner. He’s listed as my dependent on my medical insurance.”
“… I’m sorry Lee Dongsik-nim, but unless you’re listed as Han Joowon-nim’s emergency contact, the hospital cannot let you inside critical care because the NHIS doesn’t recognize your claim.”
“The fuck am I letting you stop me from—”
“It’s alright, nurse, I’ll take it from here.”
“Get your hands off me, Prosecutor Kwon! I have every right to—!”
“She’s right, Lee Dongsik-ssi. According to the law, you are not Joowon’s family.”
Gwangyoung pulls a grimace as soon as he takes a sip from the styrofoam cup. “Coffee from vending machines always tastes terrible.”
Ohsub rolls his eyes. “Seoul has made you even more pretentious, Senior Inspector Hwang.”
“Caffeine is still caffeine,” Dosoo says tiredly as he drinks from his own cup. “God knows we all need it right now.”
Jihwa silently agrees as she feels the night’s exhaustion seeping through her bones. She turns to Seonnyeo and musters up the strength to offer her a small smile. “How’s Huimangie?”
“I dropped her off at my parents’ place before coming here.” Seonnyeo returns the smile, and once again Jihwa marvels at the calm and comfort Seonnyeo radiates; there’s no one else more suited to motherhood. “Dosoo-ya will pick her up tomorrow since his shift at work is later than mine.”
Jihwa’s features soften. “You didn’t need to come tonight.”
Seonnyeo’s own gaze is kind but firm. “I wanted to.”
“And we needed her expertise,” Dosoo pipes up, a note of pride in his voice as he beams at his wife.
“So,” Ohsub leans forward in his seat, and all the police officers gathered around the hospital vending machine instantly snap to attention. “What do we know so far?”
Seonnyeo flips through the case file in her hand and begins to explain. “According to the records of the company he’s working for, the truck driver had been going through his usual route at his usual delivery time, so there was nothing out of the ordinary in his routine tonight.”
“Except for the fact that his medical records reveal that his blood alcohol concentration was at 0.306% at the time of the collision,” Dosoo remarks dryly.
Gwangyoung whistles lowly. “That’s the highest ever recorded number for a DUI case in history. Even if he survives tonight’s surgery—”
“Gwangyoung-ah,” Jihwa warns.
“I’m just saying,” Gwangyoung raises his hands in appeasement. “After he recovers, he’ll definitely be going to jail.”
“There’s something strange about the truck driver though,” Seonnyeo murmurs, lost in thought as she peruses the case file; Jihwa has to prompt her gently with a hand on her arm to encourage her to share her theories.
“A BAC of 0.250 to 0.399% is a dangerously high level of intoxication. It can already cause alcohol poisoning and even loss of consciousness.”
She turns to her husband. “We’re going to need to access the truck’s dashboard camera to be sure, but with this level of BAC, it’s entirely possible that the driver actually fell asleep at the wheel.”
“Which explains why he didn’t stop at the red light,” Dosoo affirms.
“Doesn’t really help his case,” Gwangyoung mutters, “although the defense can lobby that at least he didn’t purposely beat the red light.”
Seonnyeo bites her lip.
Ohsub sees her obvious hesitance and sighs. “Just say it, Officer Im.”
Instead, Seonnyeo turns to Jihwa and wordlessly hands over the case file to her.
Jihwa skims through the company records. “The truck driver has been consistent in his routine,” she comments. “No previous records of any road violations whatsoever.”
“Exactly,” Seonnyeo’s relief shows on her face when Jihwa confirms her observations. “If he knew he had a delivery route to go through tonight, why would he purposely get himself drunk before his shift?”
“Not just simply drunk,” Dosoo grumbles. “It’s like he ingested a whole liquor store with that amount of alcohol in his system.”
“It’s almost suicidal.”
Everyone turns to Jihwa at her somber words.
“But if he wanted to kill himself,” she says quietly as she sees the alarming BAC numbers for herself, “why would he go through such a roundabout way of doing it…”
She looks up and catches Ohsub’s penetrating gaze.
“… through crashing into another vehicle?”
Ohsub’s eyes narrow. “Inspector Oh—are you suggesting foul play?”
Jihwa shakes her head slowly. “There’s not enough evidence.” Not yet. “But if it is, then…”
She turns to her partner, and it’s a testament to how long and how well they work together that Dosoo’s face immediately clears as the realization hits him at the same time.
“… it falls to our jurisdiction,” Jihwa concludes quietly.
A tense silence abruptly settles in the air.
“A case for the Violent Crimes Unit,” Dosoo confirms grimly, “for attempted murder.”
“Remember that highly controversial case that no one else is taking?”
“… You’re seriously calling me in the middle of the night to talk about this?”
“I’m taking it.”
“Why—you—first of all, they can’t afford you.”
“I’m taking it pro bono.”
“You’re—Prosecutor Kwon, you do realize what this will mean for your career?”
“Yes. I absolutely do.”
“This is career suicide.”
“Good. I’m ready to be reborn.”
“… What are you saying?”
“Tell the client I’m ready to meet them.”
“It’s the middle of the god damned night!”
“Wake them.”
Jaeyi blinks when she returns to the table she has just cleared and sees it devoid of its previous occupants—save for one.
“Where did everyone go?”
“Prosecutor Kwon went outside to take a business call.” Jihwa runs a hand through her hair distractedly as she offers Jaeyi a reassuring smile. “I think I saw Dongsik-ie following him.”
She steps closer as Jaeyi takes some paper towels and begins wiping down the table, much to Jihwa’s amusement; Jaeyi doesn’t really have to since this isn’t her restaurant, but Jihwa supposes habits are hard to break, and Jaeyi will always have a butcher shop owner’s penchant for sanitation.
“Everyone else hurried to Inspector Han’s room,” Jihwa adds as she takes a paper towel for herself and starts to help. “They were all way too excited to learn that Inspector Han is finally going to be relocated from critical care to general medical care and can now receive visitors.”
It makes Jaeyi crack a smile. “I can imagine Inspector Han may be annoyed enough to actually speed up his recovery just so he won’t have to deal with any more of their well-meaning nagging.”
Jihwa chuckles. “Well, if there’s anyone who can achieve the impossible, it’s Han Joowon.”
Her remark is only met with silence, prompting her to look up. She stops, tilts her head thoughtfully, and softly asks:
“You know why it’s you, don’t you?”
Jaeyi pauses. Her bun has become loose and her bangs are falling in front of her eyes, making it easy for Jaeyi to deliberately avoid Jihwa’s searching gaze.
“Of course I do. I was the only logical choice left.”
Jihwa raises her eyebrows when Jaeyi starts rubbing at a non-existent stain on the table with much more vigor than is necessary. “We all know it should have been Prosecutor Kwon or Dongsik-ahjussi, but Han Kihwan remains to be a fucking bastard even from behind bars,” Jaeyi bites out.
Jihwa’s mouth quirks; Jaeyi will find no disagreement with her there.
“But I also understand,” Jaeyi says quietly, “why it couldn’t have been anyone else.”
She stops and leans heavily with the heel of her palms on the table.
“It should’ve been you too, eonnie, but you and Jihoon-ie have to look out for each other too, and you’re already each other’s emergency contact. Everyone else is either affianced, married, has kids, or—”
The next words catch in Jaeyi’s throat. She takes a deep, shaky breath.
“Or has parents to take care of.”
There’s a profound sadness and resignation in Jaeyi’s eyes when she finally looks up to meet Jihwa’s gaze.
“So I understand why Inspector Han chose me, out of everyone. It couldn’t have been anyone else other than the only one of us who has no family left to lose.”
Just like him is left unsaid, but heavily understood.
There’s a soft intake of breath when Jihwa places her hand over Jaeyi’s, gentling the tightness of her fingers by threading theirs together.
“Inspector Han chose you,” Jihwa says softly, “because he knew without a doubt that it’s Dongsik-ie you would call first.”
Jihwa reaches out to tuck stray wisps of Jaeyi’s hair behind her ear, revealing Jaeyi’s beautiful eyes, shimmering with the tears she’s desperately trying to hold back.
“He also knew that you would not make any important medical decisions without consulting with Prosecutor Kwon first.”
Tenderly, she caresses Jaeyi’s cheek with the back of her hand; her fingers feel cold and wet as Jaeyi closes her eyes and the tears begin to fall from beneath those long lashes.
“And Inspector Han knew that just like you always have, you’d find a way to gather all of us here together—for him.”
Jihwa is ready for it, her arms already open to catch Jaeyi as she finally collapses against Jihwa, her whole frame shaking with broken sobs, the weight of everything she’s been carrying since receiving the call from the hospital finally crashing down on her.
Jihwa gathers her close; Jaeyi tightens her arms around Jihwa’s waist and buries her face in Jihwa’s neck to hide her tears.
“Uri Jaeyi. Han Jowoon chose you because you are our home. Because even someone like Han Joowon knows…”
Jihwa presses her mouth against Jaeyi’s hair and murmurs:
“Home is where he will always find his family.”
“Prosecutor Kwon.”
Hyeok stiffens at the all too familiar voice behind him. “I have to go,” he mutters quickly and ends the call.
He pockets his mobile phone, takes a deep breath, and turns around.
The lone, imposing figure at the top of the stairs is watching him, silhouette backlighted by the harsh, bluish-gray lights coming from the hospital doors from which he has just exited.
Hyeok swallows. “There’s—somewhere I need to be.”
Dongsik considers him for a long moment. “I know for a fact that you’re not going home,” he finally says quietly. “What’s so important that you need to leave in the middle of the night?”
“Work.”
Hyeok determinedly holds Dongsik’s gaze. He isn’t lying.
“I see.”
Dongsik makes his way slowly down the stairs of the hospital entrance and stops right in front Hyeok.
And it takes Hyeok’s breath away when Dongsik’s entire countenance changes at his next words—as if the weight of the world has finally been lifted from his shoulders as he regards Hyeok with a gentle smile.
“Uri Joowon-ie is finally transferred to general medical care,” Dongsik tells him softly. “He’s asking for you.”
The unexpected revelation sends Hyeok reeling as he sways on his feet. “Good—that’s good,” he stammers. “Tell him—”
Tell him he’s an idiot, tell him he doesn’t need to protect me because that’s my job, because I’m the big brother even though he has never, ever accepted me as his , because it’s my job to give him everything he needs and this, this is the one thing I can do for him, so tell him—
“Tell him… I have work to do.”
Hyeok adamantly tries his best to not flinch under Dongsik’s penetrating, piercing gaze.
Please, he silently, desperately begs. Please let me do this.
“Okay,” Dongsik assents, much to Hyeok’s surprise. “But before you go, Jihoon-ie asked me to give you this.”
Hyeok watches as Dongsik reaches inside his own jacket pocket. He takes something out and hands it over to Hyeok.
He immediately recognizes what it is—and his throat tightens when he sees his own name written on it.
“Uri Joowon-ie made sure you have one, too.”
Dongsik smiles at him.
“Looks like you’re stuck with us, Prosecutor Kwon.”
“Please make sure to feed that idiot too.”
Jaeyi’s mouth quirks, knowing she doesn’t need to clarify who it is. “I promise to feed them all. I think I saw some budae jjigae at the hospital cafeteria earlier.”
She pauses, considering. “Does he even like budae jjigae?”
From his position lying prone on the hospital bed, Joowon lets out a snort. “That man has ostentatious tastes. He’d do well to humble himself and expand his horizons.”
Jaeyi clamps her mouth shut as she tries not to smile at the absolute irony of that statement coming from Han Joowon, of all people. “He really is the one who raised you.”
She grins when Joowon glares at her the best he can from beneath all those bandages. “Speaking of Prosecutor Kwon,” she adds, “he told me something interesting about you.”
“Dear god,” Joowon mutters.
Jaeyi laughs. “He actually talks very fondly of you, you know,” she reveals, smiling a little sadly at the way Joowon looks at her in disbelief. “He told me that you’re eligible for citizenship in England.”
Joowon’s gaze is contemplative as Jaeyi lets the weight of the implication settle between them. “Why are you bringing this up?” he quietly asks.
Jaeyi hesitates. “It’s legal there, isn’t it?” She bites her lip. “If you and ahjussi ever were to get married.”
It’s the way Joowon’s expression remains impassive and unsurprised that tells it all.
This is not the first time it has occurred to him.
“Ahjussi fought hard to be in here,” Jaeyi tells him softly, choosing not to expound on how Hyeok had to physically restrain Dongsik from charging through the doors of critical care. “He fought so hard for his right as your partner.”
“But according to the law, he is not my family.”
Jaeyi swallows at the way Joowon tonelessly repeats Hyeok’s earlier statement nearly word for word. “He can be.”
Joowon turns his head on the pillow to look straight into her eyes. She holds his gaze as the smile she gives him is bittersweet. “He can be your rightful family in England. That’s why I’m bringing it up.”
“I’m not going to do that to him.”
That is certainly not the fierce declaration Jaeyi expects. “What?”
The wires and tubes connected to his body all jangle at the heavy sigh Joowon heaves. “I’m not going to bring Lee Dongsik to England.”
Jaeyi furrows her brows. “Why not?”
The smile Joowon offers her with his wounded and bruised lips is gentle and warm. “Because Manyang butcher shop doesn’t exist there.”
It feels like Jaeyi has been stabbed straight through her heart.
“I love him.” Joowon’s no-nonsense statement is powerful in its simplicity and sincerity. “And it is my sole purpose in life to make him happy.”
Whatever doubts Jaeyi had in the past about Han Joowon being deserving of Lee Dongsik’s love and devotion is now completely obliterated in the wake of this vow.
Because Han Joowon isn’t just someone who will move heaven and earth for Lee Dongsik.
“I will never take Lee Dongsik away from his own family.”
For Lee Dongsik, Han Joowon will go through hell.
There’s a sharp intake of breath from Gwangyoung. “Attempted murder?”
“Wait.” Jihoon finally speaks up in disbelief at the direction of the discussion and the unwanted gravity of the implication. “Why are we even considering foul play?”
His sister then looks straight at her boss, who’s startled by her sharp gaze.
Ohsub clears his throat. “As you may all very well know, as police officers, we have the duty and responsibility to avoid speculation without hard evidence.”
Jihwa crosses her arms—and Jihoon recognizes that look immediately.
It’s the look of his big sister—the woman of the house—not letting anyone get away with any bullshit.
Ohsub purses his lips and finally relents.
“Ever since I’ve been promoted to Superintendent,” he begins hesitantly, “I’ve been rubbing elbows with a lot of higher ups in the force, and I’ve been privy to a lot of their conversations. Even the ones they never meant for me to hear.”
He turns to face Jihoon gravely. “They all hate Inspector Han.”
Jihoon frowns, instinctively defensive. “Joowon-hyung is not a bad cop.”
“Inspector Han is indeed a very, very good cop,” Dosoo easily agrees; Jihoon furrows his brows, noting the austerity of Dosoo’s tone in what’s supposed to be praise.
“Inspector Han follows the letter of the law and enacts justice on everyone without exception,” Seonnyeo says quietly. “Not even his own self. Not even the one person he loves beyond all measure.”
They fall silent at her words. Dosoo intertwines their fingers together in empathetic solidarity.
“Not even,” Jihwa adds quietly, “his own father.”
“Not even the wealthiest and most powerful cop in the country borne out of a law enforcement dynasty spanning four generations,” Ohsub clarifies morosely. “The Han family network is a systemic power that’s vast and deeply rooted in the force. It’s how they kept the power in the family for decades.”
Ohsub looks grimly at them.
“And Inspector Han just dismantled it all.”
Jihoon’s gaze is arrested by the way Jihwa leans her head back against the wall at her apprehensive words. “It’s always been an open secret that the Han family dynasty had steadily built and strengthened their influence within the Korean National Police Agency until the third of their generation finally reached the very top.”
“Only to be brought down by their own fourth generation.” Dosoo presses his lips together. “The best and smartest of them all.”
Jihoon swallows. “Han Joowon,” he whispers.
Ohsub sighs and rubs his eyebrows tiredly. “Han Kihwan had his dirty fingers dipped in a lot of pies and had plenty of cronies in the force, most of whom lost significant power after his arrest.”
“I bet they lost a hell of a lot of money too,” Gwangyoung mutters.
Ohsub inclines his head in agreement at the point. “Which means Inspector Han has an ever growing list of enemies, and all of them are in the police force.”
“And word on the grapevine is that they’re planning to take him out.”
Jihoon holds his breath at his sister’s words as she looks at him straight in the eye.
“Through whatever means necessary.”
Jihoon’s hands curl into fists as he turns back to Ohsub. “Hyung—Superintendent Kwak—can’t you report them?”
“For what? Talking smack about a coworker?” Ohsub snorts bitterly. “I can’t even record their conversations because it won’t hold up in any court, and I have no evidence of them actually acting on their threats.”
“Until now,” Seonnyeo interjects quietly. “We don’t have any evidence for the act just yet, nor do we have any leads for an actual suspect, but we certainly have plenty of motive for the attempted murder of Han Joowon.”
Finally putting it into actual words makes the declaration weigh heavily upon all of them.
“Wouldn’t his father protect him?”
Everyone turns to Jihoon at his despaired whisper. “Joowon-hyung is still his family.” He looks at them all desperately. “How much of a monster would Han Kihwan be to allow his own son to be killed?”
His throat tightens as his sister leans forward and lets her face fall into her hands.“In the recording Inspector Han submitted, Lee Changjin can be heard asking Han Kihwan if he’s willing to kill his own son.”
Jihoon watches as Jihwa slicks her hair back, lips pressed tight at the mention of her abominable ex-husband. “It’s corroborated by Lee Changjin’s own statement afterward, when he confessed.”
“And later on, after Han Kihwan’s arrest,” Dosoo adds somberly, “Dongsik-hyung and Inspector Han separately submitted their own statements about what really happened that night at the Han residence.”
“And their statements matched,” Ohsub affirms.
Jihoon swallows.
“Han Kihwan pointed a gun at his own son’s head,” Jihwa viciously reveals, a quiet rage simmering beneath the bitten out words. “A loaded gun. With the safety off.”
She screws her eyes shut as she fights to calm her breathing. “We don’t know if Han Kihwan is the one behind this attempted murder—”
“Allegedly,” Ohsub firmly interjects.
“—on Han Joowon’s life,” Jihwa finishes anyway. “What we do know for certain is that even if he isn’t, Han Kihwan is the kind of father who doesn’t care whether or not his son dies, if it means saving his own ass.”
The resounding silence is suffocating.
“Dongsik-hyung should know.”
The loud, bitter laughter Jihwa lets out at Jihoon’s quiet declaration startles everyone in their seats. “No. Dongsik-ie absolutely should not know. There’s a very good reason Inspector Han did not list him as his emergency contact.”
“Emergency contacts are accessible by police authorities during criminal investigations,” Ohsub explains grimly. “Killing Inspector Han is like killing two birds with one stone, because it opens up a case.”
Jihoon feels like he’s going insane at how he can actually follow the deranged train of thought. “And it allows cops access to private records, including that of Dongsik-hyung, if he’s listed as Joowon-hyung’s emergency contact.”
“Yes,” Ohsub affirms. “Because everyone in the force also knows that Inspector Han didn’t bring down Han Kihwan singlehandedly.”
“He had a partner,” Jihwa says quietly, “in Lee Dongsik.”
Jihoon stares at them, unwilling to accept what they’re all implying. “Are you saying that Dongsik-hyung needs to be protected?”
“No,” Ohsub says wryly, “the problem is precisely the opposite.”
“Lee Dongsik brought down the most powerful cop in the country and put an end to a family dynasty just to bring justice to Lee Yuyeon.” The look his sister gives Jihoon is tinged with a strange mixture of bittersweet sadness and fearful trepidation. “How far do you think Lee Dongsik is willing to go this time just to bring justice to Han Joowon?”
Jihoon inhales sharply.
“The whole world,” Jihwa quietly declares, “might as well burn.”
“The damn truck driver is alive?!”
“Currently in surgery as we speak. Apparently that bastard Han Joowon swerved just enough in time to avoid most of the impact.”
“Pests really are such a headache to exterminate.”
“What are we going to do if the driver talks?”
“What’s he gonna say? He can’t prove that we drugged him.”
“And Han Joowon? There are so many other ways to get rid of that pest, why are we doing it this way?”
“It’s fitting, isn’t it? The father had been brought down by a DUI. It’s poetic that we bring down the son in exactly the same way.”
“Doesn’t Joowon-hyung deserve that?”
Jihoon’s hands are tightly fisted on his lap as he looks up at his sister. “After having a father who won’t think twice about throwing his own son into hell, doesn’t Joowon-hyung deserve to have someone who will instead burn the world for him?”
Everyone falls silent at his breathless question. Jihwa tilts her head to one side, watching him thoughtfully.
“Yes,” she finally assents. “He does.”
Jihoon stares at the way his sister unexpectedly smiles.
“Just—not right now,” Jihwa comments dryly, “while Dongsik-ie is still under probation.”
Jihoon blinks.
Dosoo grins wryly, backing up his partner. “Dongsik-hyung can’t protect or fight alongside Inspector Han if he ends up in prison.”
Whatever Jihoon is about to say next dies on his lips as everyone’s attention is arrested when the doors to critical care suddenly swing open—
—and out walks Jaeyi.
Everyone scrambles to their feet in surprise, anxiously watching her amble towards them with unsteady steps; Jihoon notes how she has her arms wrapped tightly around herself, the tremors in her frame betraying how she’s fiercely trying to control her quiet sobs.
Jihoon feels the ground reeling beneath his feet, dreading the absolute worst. “Noona…?”
Slowly, Jaeyi raises her head, and Jihoon’s chest twists achingly at the sight of her: Jaeyi’s clothes are rumpled, her hair is disheveled, her eyes are haggard and red from crying—
And she’s staring straight at Jihoon.
“Inspector Han is awake. You’re the first person he’s asking to see.”
From his peripheral vision, Jihoon sees the way his sister sharply turns to him in undisguised alarm.
“Me?” Jihoon breathes, heart in his throat. “Why me?”
With shaking hands, Jaeyi reaches inside her jacket and takes out a letter envelope.
The smile she offers Jihoon is trembling.
“He wants you to have this.”
“Did you even calculate the route correctly?”
“The timing of the crash was supposed to be perfect. We even planted the road detours they were both forced to take and timed the traffic lights to malfunction at the precise intersection.”
“It should’ve been enough to indict the truck driver for beating the red light. He was supposed to be our scapegoat.”
“Except the idiot actually lost consciousness. The spiked alcohol in his system was way too potent.”
“Go through the crash site and get rid of the dashboard camera so it can’t be submitted as evidence.”
“We can’t.”
“What do you mean we can’t?”
“Someone got to the footage first.”
“Who the fuck would want that footage?”
“That meddlesome fool from Team One of Munju Police Station’s Violent Crimes Unit. Assistant Inspector Kang Dosoo.”
This is what a heart attack must feel like, Jaeyi thinks as she rushes forward in a panic, heart hammering violently against her ribs.
“Inspector Han!”
She shrieks, a hand firmly on Joowon’s bandaged chest to stop him from rising from the hospital bed; the insistent warning beeping of all the machines connected to his body isn’t helping her already jangled nerves. “Please let me call the nurses now.”
“Officer Oh,” Joowon says hoarsely instead, and it makes Jaeyi’s gaze snap up to him in surprise. “I need to find Officer Oh.”
Jaeyi furrows her brows. “… Jihoon-ie?” Tendrils of worry color her tone as a creeping sense of dread begins to overtake her at the completely unexpected name.
“Please,” Joowon whispers as he lies back on his bed, and it’s a testament to how utterly weak his current state is that he can’t even put up a physical fight against Jaeyi.
It makes her simultaneously ache for him and feel utterly enraged on his behalf.
“Please find him,” Joowon is begging her. “I need to give something to him.”
Jaeyi squeezes her eyes shut. Calm. Inspector Han needs you to be calm, damn it. “Okay,” she relents, “but only if you behave and stay still.”
He has the absolute audacity to smirk at her. “All right, mother.”
“I am not—!”
Jaeyi takes a deep lungful of breath and lets it out slowly as she runs her hands over her face. “Dear god, ahjussi really is the only one who can match your insanity,” Jaeyi mutters between her fingers.
Joowon blinks at her innocently.
Jaeyi scowls. “Fine. What is it that you need to give to Jihoon-ie?”
“It’s in my coat—”
“I just told you to stay still—”
Joowon seems to finally take pity on her—that, or the way she inadvertently pitches her tone incredibly high with worry really does sound like a mother scolding her wayward son. “Forgive me,” he murmurs, looking appropriately chastised. “I just—need to know it’s there.”
Jaeyi sighs, heart softening despite herself. “I think the nurses put away the clothes you were wearing—”
—when you almost died and we almost lost you—
“—when they found you. I’ll see if I can find your coat.”
Joowon is compliantly quiet and still as Jaeyi turns her back on him. She rummages through the pile of clothes she vaguely remembers that the nurses have set aside by the bedside drawers when they first wheeled in the hospital bed—with Han Joowon lying on it deathly still.
Jaeyi firmly presses her lips together and staunchly refuses to let her attention linger on the bloodstains still caked on the clothes, refusing to even think about how much blood Joowon has actually lost.
She inwardly vows to get rid of the stains before Dongsik finds them. She refuses to think about what will happen if he does.
Maybe she should just burn the clothes entirely, before Dongsik ends up burning something else.
“Yoo Jaeyi-ssi,” Joowon speaks up softly from behind her, pulling her wandering thoughts back to the task at hand.
She finds the coat at the bottom of the pile, the dark color thankfully camouflaging whatever bloodstains still managed to splatter on the outer piece of clothing.
“It’s inside the pocket,” Joowon murmurs. “You’ll find a letter envelope.”
Jaeyi begins patting down the coat and reaches inside the first pocket she finds.
She ends up pulling out Joowon’s wallet. It falls open just as she fully intends to put it aside.
Jaeyi stares.
She recognizes the background with how often she’s been at Okcheon lake. She recognizes that it’s summer too, with how clear the skies are and how glaringly bright the sun is shining, as well as the thin tank top worn for the heat.
It’s the way Lee Dongsik is looking back at her that takes her breath away.
His curls are caught in a frozen summer breeze—it’s obviously been a while since this photo has been taken, since Dongsik hasn’t had his haircut yet in this one. The sunshine from above highlights the fond glow of his eyes as he looks lovingly at the camera, the corners of his mouth softened by a tender smile.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who has taken the photo. There’s only one person in the entire world whom Dongsik ever looks at like this.
Like he’s looking at a piece of paradise—his deliverance and salvation all at once.
Like Lee Dongsik has finally been allowed inside the elusive gates of heaven.
“Did you find it?”
Jaeyi drops the wallet on the bedside table as if it scalds her. “I—no—a letter envelope right,” she stammers, feeling weirdly guilty about accidentally discovering what she knows for sure is meant to be kept private.
“Yes.” Joowon sounds amused. “It’s in the other pocket.”
“Right.” Jaeyi responds distractedly. Pull yourself together, she silently admonishes herself. “Here, I think I found it.”
Her fingers close upon the envelope and pulls it out.
Behind her, she hears Joowon draw a sharp intake of breath. “Can you check if it’s all there?”
Jaeyi blinks. Check what?
She opens the envelope—and is entirely taken aback to see all of their names printed on each one.
Han Joowon. Lee Dongsik. Oh Jihoon. Oh Jihwa. Yoo Jaeyi. Hwang Gwangyoung. Kang Dosoo. Im Seonnyeo. Kwak Ohsub.
Her eyebrows rise at the last name she finds.
Kwon Hyeok.
Slowly, Jaeyi turns around to face Joowon once more, the envelope carefully cradled in her hands.
She’s thoroughly nonplussed.
“Concert tickets?”
Joowon looks relieved. “Music festival tickets, to be precise,” he clarifies. “Officer Oh told me that he once promised to take her when he was still an idol trainee, because he wanted to perform for her at a music festival when he debuted. Unfortunately his idol career fell through, so he wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to her.”
Jaeyi’s brows crinkle in confusion. “Her…?”
“I figured the timing is now right,” Joowon murmurs, “considering the date of the festival.”
Jaeyi’s gaze falls back to the tickets. She takes one out—the one with her own name printed on it—and inspects it carefully.
Her knees suddenly wobble and she falls back to her seat as soon as she recognizes the date. Her hand flies to her mouth to silence the shocked cry that threatens to burst forth.
“It’s a celebration,” Joowon says softly, “of Kang Minjeong’s birthday.”
“ Kang Dosoo? No wonder he sounds familiar. That’s one of the names.”
“What names?”
“On the tickets Han Joowon bought from me.”
“Lee Dongsik.”
Hyeok feels the other man’s eyes on him as he carefully pockets the ticket close to his heart.
His hands are surprisingly steady.
“Find the fuckers who hurt our Joowon,” he whispers fiercely, “and leave the rest to me.”
The iron grip on his arm is unyielding when he turns to leave.
“Hyeok-ah,” Dongsik hisses through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you planning to do?”
Hyeok’s gaze travels from Dongsik’s hand all the way up to his eyes. Privately he notes that the fire burning in that gaze is flaring much in the same way as Joowon’s eyes once did when he implored Hyeok to cut off the rotten rope tying him to Han Kihwan.
It’s almost like looking into the eyes of another brother.
“I told you inside that hospital that according to the law, you are not Han Joowon’s family.”
It satisfies Hyeok immensely to see Dongsik looking so unsettled and taken aback at the slow, wolfish grin that creeps across Hyeok’s face.
After all, Lee Dongsik may be forgetting who actually raised Han Joowon.
“It’s time to change the law.”
Supreme Court recognizes rights of same-sex couples to receive spousal health insurance coverage
Korea's Supreme Court recognized new rights for same-sex couples Thursday, saying the state must provide health insurance for a gay man's partner in a landmark ruling that left activists weeping for joy.
"National Health Insurance should recognize spousal insurance coverage for same-sex couples," the court ruled, with activists breaking into cheers as the verdict was read out.
The verdict, which cannot be appealed as it comes from the country's highest court, means common-law spouses of the same sex can now register as dependents on their partners' health insurance.
"It is discrimination based on sexual orientation to exclude the couple just because they are same-sex," the court ruled.
"It is a discriminatory act that violates human dignity and values, the right to pursue happiness, freedom of privacy, and the right to be equal before the law, and the degree of infringement is serious."
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Text Message
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Common-law spouses?
What happened to hi, hello, good evening? Do old men like you really forget your manners as you age?
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Hi, hello, good evening Prosecutor Kwon. I’m also only six years older than you, you little shit. Common-law spouses?
De Facto Marriage in legal terms, yeah
My client sued the National Health Insurance Service because it terminated benefits for his partner after discovering they were a gay couple
The NHIS is legally required to grant spousal coverage benefits even to common-law partners, and both the Seoul High Court and the Supreme Court mandated that the NHIS reinstate my client’s dependent benefits
JOOWON’S LUNATIC I didn’t know De Facto Marriage in our country was also applicable to queer couples
It is now
JOOWON’S LUNATIC I see
JOOWON’S LUNATIC So how exactly can a De Facto Marriage be legally established under the law?
(i) Mutual intent to form a marital relationship
(ii) The existence of substance of marital life
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Can you possibly elaborate on that without all the legal mumbo jumbo?
You know, normally I charge clients for consultations like this
By the hour
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Eh, just put it on your brother’s tab
The court looks into various factors such as the duration of cohabitation, the existence of a marriage ceremony, and relationship with other family members
My client already had a public ceremony with his partner three years ago, which was attended by all of their friends and family, and they’ve also been living together since way before the wedding
JOOWON’S LUNATIC So you’re saying the relationship needs to be publicized as akin to an actual marriage
Yeah, basically
JOOWON’S LUNATIC I see
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwon
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwon
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Hyeok-ah
For the love of god Lee Dongsik it is three in the fucking morning and I have a court hearing in five hours STOP BLOWING UP MY NOTIFICATIONS I NEED TO SLEEP
JOOWON’S LUNATIC How do you feel about officiating our wedding ceremony?
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Are you there? Yah, did you actually fall asleep on me?
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwon
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwonnn
JOOWON’S LUNATIC Hyeok-ahhhhh
I’m putting all of this on your husband’s tab
Also
It’s about damn time
“What made you say yes?”
“Technically, he said yes.”
“It’s not a competition of who loves the other more, you know.”
“I certainly don’t want to lose.”
“So that’s why you asked him? The last time we talked, you were adamant about keeping your distance to protect him.”
“That was before I made the unforgivable mistake of failing to be by his side when he needed me the most because of a miscalculation I made last year.”
“You mean when you almost died.”
“Don’t be dramatic, I made a full recovery in record time, according to my physical therapists.”
“Again—not a competition, Inspector Han. So what made you decide to finally publicize your relationship?”
“The law changes everything.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? What Prosecutor Kwon did for you.”
“He charges me by the hour.”
“Well, you and Dongsik-ie will legally have joint finances soon, so I’m sure you’ll be able to afford Prosecutor Kwon’s rates.”
“Dongsik-ssi is actually not happy about that. He said he doesn’t want access to my finances, and while I understand that it’s because he also doesn’t want to have anything to do with my father’s dirty money, the fact remains that he of all people deserves to be paid reparations by Han Kihwan. Why are you grinning like that?”
“Only you, Inspector Han, will blackmail Lee Dongsik into becoming filthy rich through a De Facto Marriage because he won’t accept your money otherwise. You two lunatics truly deserve each other.”
“… I’m trying to ascertain whether that is a compliment or an insult.”
“So—joint finances, joint custody of properties. You’ll also now legally be the co-owner of the Okcheon lake residence. It’s all just a formality anyway, since you two have been living together there for years now.”
“How did you—”
“Jihoon-ie talks. A lot.”
“Finances and property aren’t my main concern anyway, because unlike legal marriages, common-law spouses aren’t automatically granted inheritance should one of us die.”
“Pretty sure neither of you are going to let that happen in the first place.”
“I’m certainly not gonna die before him.”
“Not really a competition Inspector Han, considering you’re thirteen years younger.”
“What I mean is that I simply won’t survive without him. Because I don’t want to.”
“That’s—Inspector Han—”
“And because common-law spouses are still legally mandated to uphold the same vows of fidelity, I am looking forward to him keeping his vow to spend the rest of his life with me.”
“You’re—blackmailing him to keep himself alive for you.”
“That is the gist of it, yes.”
“Huh. Well, whatever works to keep him safe, I guess.”
“It is a grave lesson that the unfortunate situation last year—“
“You almost dying—”
“—has irrevocably taught me. It is better to protect him by keeping him close instead of keeping him at a distance.”
“And the privilege extended to common-law spouses in legally refusing to testify against each other has absolutely no bearing on your decision to ask for Dongsik-ie’s hand in marriage? Publicizing your relationship like this makes you even more of a target.”
“From what’s left of my father’s fallen network?”
“No, I don’t think Han Kihwan’s men will be a problem anymore. I’m more concerned about the homophobic vultures inevitably swarming you both because of your soon to be public marriage.”
“De Facto Marriage. The spousal privilege is not automatically granted in the same way as legal marriages, because every protection and privilege granted to common-law spouses will have to go through further legal proceedings to be granted by the court.”
“It’s a good thing you have a cutthroat lawyer on your side.”
“Whose exorbitant rates are preposterous.”
“It’s worth it though, isn’t it?”
“For Lee Dongsik? Always.”
“I’m really happy for you, Joowon-ah. Both of you. You’ll show me the photos, right?”
“Of what?”
“The wedding ceremony. I’m sure it’s going to be magical.”
“Why would I show you photos?”
“I—I just thought—I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to—”
“Why would I show you photos when you can take them yourself?”
“… What?”
“You’ll be out on parole soon, won’t you? For good behavior.”
“How did you—”
“I have, shall we say, a ridiculously overcompensated lawyer working on it.”
“… But why? Why would he—why would you do this for me?”
“There’s a reason we set the date of the wedding ceremony after your prison sentence has ended.”
“I—Dongsik-ie didn’t invite me.”
“You’re not his guest. You’re mine, Park Jeongje-ssi.”
“I see,” Gwangyoung murmurs. “I’ll take note of that. Thank you for informing me.”
Jihwa looks up as Gwangyoung ends his call. She sees the way he frowns when he sees precisely who’s missing.
“Where’s Dongsik-hyung?”
“Where do you think?” Jaeyi looks incredibly drained but the smile she gives them all is much more weightless now. “It’s going to be an impossible challenge to pry ahjussi away from Inspector Han’s bedside from now on, unless someone has a pretty compelling reason.”
“Nothing less than the apocalypse happening,” Seonnyeo says amusedly as the tightness of her shoulders finally relaxes.
Dosoo grins at his wife when she lays her head on his shoulder. “Maybe not even then.”
“We’re going to have to ask the nurses to bring in two trays for every hospital meal,” Jihoon chuckles, puffy eyes still red-rimmed but brighter. “And two changes of clothes every night and day too.”
“The hospital bill will also definitely double,” Ohsub says wryly. “Too bad the NHIS doesn’t recognize Inspector Han as Dongsik-ie’s dependent, though I’m sure Inspector Han can afford to pay for everything anyway.”
“It’s not really the money that’s the issue,” Jihoon protests, “but the principle of equality. Especially in the eyes of the law.”
“Yeah well,” Ohsub shrugs as he leans back with a sigh. “The world has never treated everyone equally and that’s never gonna change, kid.”
“I am not a kid,” Jihoon grumbles.
Jihwa smiles and reaches out to ruffle her baby brother’s hair affectionately. Across from her, she notes the way Gwangyoung takes his seat with a sort of quiet tension, and it makes Jihwa pause.
“Everything okay, Gwangyoung-ah? Who was that on the phone?”
He looks up at her with uncharacteristic seriousness. “A friend from the force. Someone who has access to the traffic cameras.”
Jihwa feels her pulse begin to quicken.
Ohsub narrows his eyes. “Can this friend be trusted?”
“Yes,” Gwangyoung says firmly, “because I asked him to review the route Inspector Han had taken tonight before the collision.”
The mood in the hospital corridor instantly changes at his words.
“And what did he find out?” Jihwa prompts impatiently.
Gwangyoung presses his lips together. “We all know that Inspector Han is someone who sticks rigidly to routine. Whenever he gets off work, there’s only two routes he ever takes for either of two destinations: Manyang butcher shop, or Okcheon lake.”
“Wherever ahjussi is,” Jaeyi murmurs.
Gwangyoung tilts his head. “Tonight however, he made a detour.”
Jihwa’s eyebrows rise. “To where?”
“That’s where it gets strange,” Gwangyoung says in frustration. “The cameras coincidentally malfunctioned just as he started to break away from his normal route.”
That’s not a coincidence.
“The tickets.”
Everyone turns to Jaeyi in surprise; Jihoon clutches the letter envelope a little tighter against his chest.
Jaeyi meets Jihwa’s gaze. “Inspector Han told me that he went to pick up the tickets tonight.”
“Where though?” Dosoo pipes up. “Ticketing offices are already closed by the time his shift is over.”
“That’s not even the most questionable part.”
Jihwa turns at the way her brother hesitantly speaks up; his brows are furrowed in contemplation as he gazes at the envelope in his hands. He takes a deep breath and meets Jihwa’s eyes.
“The tickets for the festival were already sold out months ago,” Jihoon says quietly. “I’ve been wondering how Joowon-hyung got these tickets in the first place.”
“Some government offices actually get free complimentary tickets from entertainment companies who want to cut through the red tape,” Ohsub points out. “It’s technically bribery, but unfortunately it’s common practice for crooked officials taking advantage of the perks. Maybe Inspector Han’s department got a hold of these tickets.”
Jaeyi swiftly shakes her head. “No, Inspector Han definitely said he bought them.”
“Also—” Dosoo’s eyebrows fly to his hairline. “Han Joowon? Accepting bribery?”
“… All right, well, point taken,” Ohsub mutters. “It was just a theory.”
Government offices…
“Seonnyeo-ah,” Jihwa calls her out. “Can you go through the list of clients the truck driver delivers to, and see if there are any government offices along his route tonight?”
Ohsub furrows his brows. “What are you up to, Inspector Oh?”
“Gathering evidence,” Jihwa answer simply, startling all of them when she starts rattling instructions. “Jihoon-ah, if it’s true that the festival is already sold out, and Jaeyi says that Inspector Han only got the tickets tonight, it means he bought them secondhand.”
She gestures to the letter envelope in Jihoon’s hands.
“All tickets have corresponding control numbers that are unique to each one. You and Jaeyi should go through the secondhand market online to see if anyone posted photos or screenshots of the tickets with these control numbers and find out who the seller is. Ask Prosecutor Kwon to send you photos of his own ticket too. Dosoo-ya, I need you to get the footage of the dashboard camera from both vehicles involved in the crash, asap. And Gwangyoung-ah.”
Gwangyoung snaps to attention at being addressed.
“Your informant.” Jihwa narrows her eyes. “Who does he work for?”
“There’s just one thing I’d like to know, Park Jeongje-ssi.”
“Anything, Joowon-ah.”
“What exactly did you mean when you said my father’s men won’t be a problem anymore?”
Dongsik’s grip on Hyeok tightens.
“I know you won’t appreciate hearing this from me, Hyeok-ah,” he hisses, “but I will never forgive you if you make Joowonie go through the agonizing pain of losing the only sibling he’s ever known—”
Even through several layers of clothing, Hyeok feels the way Dongsik’s fingernails dig sharply into his skin.
“—because I know exactly what that feels like.”
Hyeok heart spasms.
“Then you’ll understand precisely what I’m about to ask of you.”
He grasps Dongsik’s arm with equal fervor, his gaze burning with equal intensity.
“I beg of you, Lee Dongsik,” Hyeok invokes beseechingly, casting away all of his pride for the one person he’s risking it all for. “Please don’t let me lose my brother.”
Jihwa stares at all the undeniable, irrefutable evidence in her hands.
It all points to a single entity.
Slowly, she raises her head—and sees her family, her team, all watching her.
Waiting.
Jihwa takes a deep breath and looks at her boss.
“Superintendent Kwak,” she says solemnly, “I formally ask for your permission for Violent Crimes to pursue and prioritize this case.”
She glances at her partner. Dosoo nods once—firmly.
Resolutely.
Ohsub’s expression is grave when Jihwa turns back to him.
“And I’m going to need a search and seizure warrant for—”
“The Community Safety and Traffic Bureau will be welcoming new employees today, so you all better be on your best behavior.”
“Why? These newbies are going to go through our hazing anyway.”
“What are their jobs?”
“Management changed agencies due to budget cuts, so there’s going to be new custodians on board.”
“You mean glorified janitors.”
“A lot of them are ex-cons who are out on parole or probation, so it’s not like they have the best career options to choose from.”
“Who would willingly choose a career in cleaning toilets, right?”
“Ah here comes one of them now. According to his file, his probation just ended, so he’s now a free man once again.”
“Free to once again commit crimes and land himself back in prison.”
“Who knows, maybe this one isn’t a lunatic for once. You over there, you’re new, right? What’s your name?”
The man in question stops. Slowly, he takes off the cap of his custodian uniform, revealing a wild mess of curls underneath.
Everyone takes an unwitting step back at the maniacal glint of those eyes as the man takes a deep, ninety-degree bow.
“My name is…”
The man straightens, his mouth stretching in a wide, serpentine grin of a psychopath, rivaling that of a serial killer—
—and they collectively feel their heart stop as they all instantly recognize who he is.
And somehow they know, without a doubt, that they’re all about to burn.
“Lee Dongsik, at your service.”
모든 게 다 타 버리고 남아있는 한 줌이여 Ash, ash, ash, ash 방주를 새롭게 지어 나아가 저 세계로 Ash, ash, ash, ash
Oh, the handful that's left from everything burning Ash, ash, ash, ash Let's build a new ark and go out into the world Ash, ash, ash, ash
Also posted at AO3
For @eonni92, whose multiple, precious gifts of artistry I wholeheartedly treasure, and for whom I can only humbly offer this story as my gift in return.
Title and lyrics from "Ash" by SEVENTEEN
References:
The landmark Supreme Court ruling recognizing the rights of same-sex couples is based on factual events in South Korea, as publicized in July 2024. A portion of the article from The Korea Times is lifted word for word for the purposes of this story. You can read the article in full here. The only fictional aspect in this story with regards to the actual lawsuit is who the prosecutor in charge was 😉
Both the Oh family background and the Han family background are all canon, based on the character backgrounds in the official script book by Beyond Evil writer Kim Sujin herself. You can read the English translations of the script book here, as translated by @rumpleteasa, who is a remarkable gem of a reliable resource for the fandom.
Thank you so much for your time in reading this story, and always remember:
It's not "blood is thicker than water" but "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".
May you all find your own Manyang butcher shop, and may you all redefine what it truly means to be family.
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s0fter-sin · 2 months ago
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one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules
the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)
almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)
they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning
(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)
even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)
so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim
it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character
the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring
we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)
it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other
sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother
#i could go on forever theres literally so many examples#dean figuring the ‘two dark doubles’ is a shapeshifter sam figuring out the changing ghost is a tulpa#also peak how many of these examples come from dean despite them pushing so hard for sam to be the one knowing hunting theory#this format is why i cant stand watching the first season of charmed despite loving it so much#i just cant be bothered watching them have the same struggle ive seen a hundred times play out again#different genre but sons of anarchy does this well too; all the characters are already in the club life and already have inner conflict#spn having such a natural introduction makes me so glad they didnt go with the original plan of sam not knowing about hunting#that wouldve been Painful#watching spn so young has really shaped my view of media bc i legit cant stand things with a learning curve#give me an established world damnit#lord of the rings never stops to explain what a dwarf is! you just go with it! and it rules!#dean is just as theoretical and lore savvy as sam and id go as far to say he actually knows more#instead of trying to do this bullshit brains v brawn divide they shouldve done new tech vs analogue#sams laptop is famous and he also knows how to hack thing where the second dean doesnt know something he defaults to books#have dean be the one where if its written down he can find it almost like a proto bobby#they even kind of support that by him being the one to find the phoenix in s6 when they go through all their books#but this was 2005 and characters could only be so conplex and theyd already decided dean needed to be the hot one and sams the nerd one#side note how many of these metas am i going to write on this rewatch? tbd#side side note included all the quotes and episode numbers makes me feel so academic#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#carry on my wayward son#talk meta to me#meta#supernatural meta#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#save post
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anotherpapercut · 5 months ago
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the democrats long term plan cannot just be "win every election for the next several decades" without doing literally anything at all to secure votes and protect voting rights. it is shocking to me how many of y'all just play along with this and blame VOTERS instead of the people who have power and refuse to even pretend to use it
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