#i felt like putting my thoughts out to the world

[lebensmudewing]

This is worse

Trigger warning: birthing fetish

My birth video ended up on a fetish subreddit because of my husband

Throwaway. Although my husband will probably see this here anyway. Maybe this can be the conversation starter?? I don't know! I just need to get this out somewhere and have people validate that my feelings aren't crazy!

I'm sorry if this is all over the place. I am a mess.

My (F33) husband (M36) is the most wonderful and caring person I've ever met in my life. I thought. Almost overbearingly sweet. He's always concerned with how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, how is my mental health. He's an excellent father to our two children as well.

I had a difficult birth with my first child. My hospital experience was bad. I felt traumatized afterwards. When I got pregnant with my second, I knew that, barring any issues, I wanted a homebirth. My husband was all for it. He's a nurse, so I felt doubly safe with him plus my midwife to support me.

The midwife filmed and we also had a professional photographer taking pictures. Everything went great. It was so emotional and beautiful. I'm trying not to give too many details away since it's apparently available to ANYONE for their viewing pleasure right now.

I have been pretty possessive of that birth tape. I never uploaded it anywhere. After I downloaded it onto my computer from our camera's sim card, I uploaded it to a USB, deleted it off my computer, and I keep it in a little "hope chest" to watch when I'm feeling sentimental. It is so beautiful and important to me, and I wasn't interested in sharing it. I have several friends who put their whole birth on YouTube, but I wasn't interested in doing that. My birth didn't need to be shared with the world. It didn't need to be a teaching moment. It didn't need to exist to make others feel better. After my traumatic first birth, it was mine and i cherished it.

My husband didn't feel the same way and sometimes had light arguments with me about it. He was never pushy, but several times, when I would watch it, he would comment "this is such an excellent birth video! You are so happy and calm! I really think you should post this. Homebirths get such a bad rep and this could put so many women at ease." I would tell him absolutely not. This is private. Stop pestering me about it. Its my body. He eventually dropped it and hasn't brought it up since.

My husband and I have never been controlling. We don't have the passwords to each other's phones. I've never felt the need to check each other's phones or computers. I trust him implicitly. Well. I did anyway. I know he has a reddit. We both reddit pretty often. But i don't know his profile or what he does on here. Idk I've just never thought about it.

A few days ago, I was in one of my parenting subreddits and came across a disturbing thread about birth videos getting posted nonconsenually in a birth fetish subreddit. I thought to myself, that is exactly the reason I didn't want to post my birth video. The commenter posted the link to the fetish sub and I'll admit curiosity got the better of me and I went to look. I wanted to know if any of my friends videos wound up there so that I could tell them.

Well their videos DID wind up there. Every single one. The sub has several vast g drives linked to birth videos. But then I saw it. MY FUCKING BIRTH VIDEO. It looked like it had been a YouTube video at one point?? Idk I don't understand how this works. I cant find it on youtube anywhere, so idk. I'm so fucking ashamed and horrified. There is a closeup of...well EVERYTHING down there in a fucking fetish site. My baby taking his first breaths. Me breastfeeding. It doesn't even cut off after the birth. It shows my baby getting weighed, and just...held. If this is a birth fetish sub, why does it feature so much of just...my CHILD. This seems like waaayyyy more than just a birth fetish thing. Idek how to report the video.I reported the post and reddit says it doesn't violate anything.

I am bawling as I type this. Like wtf. Only ONE person knows where that tape is: my fucking husband. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him.

"Hey did you fucking violate my privacy and post OUR BABY'S BIRTH ONLINE, or did you submit it straight to a fetish site, because that's where it is right now."

I don't know what to do. I can't believe I even have to have this discussion. Wtf even if he didn't submit that video straight to the fetish site, he uploaded it somewhere else where they found it, and now his actions have led to THIS situation. He exposed ME to perverts online. He exposed our newborn infant to perverts online!!!

Our marriage will NOT survive this and I am a wreck. I should have known he had SICK intentions when he was being so weird about wanting me to post this. WHY? WHY WOULD HE DO THIS?? I'm not even that angry about those sickos seeing me, but every time I think of my sweet little baby's face in there...I feel like I'm going to throw up. Surely this is illegal?? Surely newborn babies can't be featured in content that people are...sexualizing!!! Can they?? I'm also just....absolutely gutted by the fact that so many other women have had this special moment bastardized by that sub. How many of them are in my shoes? Or my friends shoes. I'm horrified. Do I press charges against my husband?? I can't believe this is how my family is going to end. What will I even tell people. What will I tell my kids!!? Idek what to do!!

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update: just a quick update. I left and took the kids to my mom's house. Idk how long we'll be here. I didn't tell my husband anything. I just wanted to get the kids the fuck away from him. Even if he didn't share that video directly with those creeps, I don't want him around them.

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update to: birth video in a fetish subreddit

I just...need to vent I guess. This isn't a happy update.

As I mentioned in my last post, I went over to my mom's house. She was bewildered about why I was there. I couldn't fess up to the reason why I was so upset. I am still so embarrassed. I didn't want her to go looking for the damn video either. Thinking of my mom searching around a porn sub to find my BIRTH VIDEO made my skin crawl. I was hysterical. Still am. I couldn't really hide that. I just told her something bad had happened and we needed to stay for awhile. I'm going to have to tell her, but every time I think about doing it, I just start crying more. The situation is even more complicated now, so I'm just scared people will be mad at me for doing what I'm doing, even my own mom.

My husband called and texted over and over for hours. We haven't spent a night apart in years. I gave him no warning. I texted him once and said we were visiting my mom and would be back later, but that I needed a break. I was worried he'd call the police, but he didn't. He continued to text sporadically, pleading with me to talk with him about what was wrong.

I went back over to our house the next day around the time I figured he'd be off work. I took one of my mom's old phones and used it to record our whole interaction. Turns out he'd called out of work he was so distressed. He ran up to me and immediately started asking what was wrong, asking where the kids were etc. He was SO understandably upset. Seeing him like that just made me start crying too. When I started crying, he started crying. He tried to hug me and I stepped away which just made him more upset. It was such a mess. I was finally able to compose myself enough to ask him to watch a video on my phone. He was confused. More so when he realized it was my birth video. A few minutes in, he interrupted to ask why I was showing him. I ended the video, and a hundred other birth videos in the g file folder appeared. He still just looked confused. I exited the folder and pointed to the name of the sub I was in. He took my phone for a better look and I just started  bawling and bawling. After a few minutes, he started raging about how we needed to mass report the post and call the FBI and blah blah blah. He kept repeating "we'll fix this. Holy fuck. This is so sick." I tried to get his attention by asking "how did they get that video?" But he just kept pacing around ranting. I just started repeating over and over "how did they get it!?" Until I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He eventually stopped and just stared at me. Neither of us said anything for a long time.

He started crying and told me that he had started a "Daddy Blog" a year after our first was born. He posted about being a dad and eventually about his experience with my second pregnancy. He had posted the video on youtube to link to his blog. He felt like there wasnt enough resources out there for dads regarding pregnancy. He didn't know I didn't want it posted until a week or two after baby was here and I was so vehement about not posting it and getting it tucked securely away on a usb. It was up for about TEN fucking months before he finally took it down. He was waiting to see if I changed my mind, and was reluctant to remove it because he'd received so many messages from thankful dads about how educational and helpful his blog/vlogging was. I had 0 knowledge about this blog. I didnt even know people blogged anymore?? We had both expressed many times how we didn't want to create a massive digital footprint for our children because of SITUATIONS JUST LIKE FUCKING THIS, so I this is such a fucking weird surprise. There's hundreds of pictures of our family on this thing.

Anyway, we got into a huge argument about how this was a breech of trust and privacy. He maintained that he thought my reaction about not wanting the video posted was over the top, and how I never told him I didn't want to share it, how he didn't even think of it as a big deal because he deals with that kind of thing every day so it was just not a big deal to him and blah blah blah. His excuses were stupid and I don't care. My birth wound up on a fetish subreddit because of him and we are getting a divorce.

When I told him it was over, we had another big screaming match. He went through several different emotions. Crying, wailing, begging, and finally anger. I hadn't said ANYTHING about custody arrangements, or my plans besides divorce, but he started threatening full custody and how he was going to put up a huge fight, how it would just be "he said/she said," how he has the better job, etc. Whatever. I didn't tell him I recorded anything (legal in our state). I eventually just walked out.

So yeah. That's where I'm at today. I need to consult with a lawyer about what comes next. I am moving as quickly as I possibly can. Sitting down to write this update was probably a stupid move, but I received SO many heartfelt messages from people concerned for me that it felt necessary. I honestly just...needed to vent and have people tell me I'm not crazy or awful for doing what I'm doing. I told a few friends, and they all just seem...weird. They're concerned about the videos I found in the fetish group, but nobody has reassured me that I'm making the right moves in regards to the situation.

I am in an incredibly bad place right now. I'm worried I'm making the wrong decision. Do i let him see the kids?? I don't know what to tell my family. I don't know if i need to contact the police. I don't know if i want to. The most stupid part of me wishes I could call my best friend and talk to him about it, but uh...yeah I'm divorcing him. What a stupid feeling to miss him so badly and knowing that I will never be with him again. I just keep thinking that I'm doing something stupid, and i feel like so many people will see it that way.

On top of everything, my birth video is just...in a fucking fetish sub. Every time I think about that, I get choked up. I've reported it a million times in just the few days since I posted. I've made alts to try and report. I've had friends report. My other friends,with their birth videos ALSO posted non-consenually in there, have tried reporting. It doesn't matter. I sent the link to the FBI. It doesn't even really matter anyway. They're g drives. If the post got removed, if the whole sub was removed, my video is still in the possession of some sicko using it for fap material. My baby's sweet little face in there...I am sick. I am defeated.

They have a post up in the sub about how their previous group was removed because of pedophile content. No shit. No fucking shit. Your fetish inherently involves children. They ask that "karens" please leave them alone now. They acknowledge that pedophiles lurk in their sub, yet continue to steal content with children in it for sexual purposes. I do not understand how something like this is legal. I don't know how many other dark places on the internet my video has ended up.

The most special moment of my life is now just this fucking smear of shit all because I decided to try and capture it for memory's  sake. Something that was supposed to bring me unending joy, now leaves me weeping. I keep looking at my sweet toddler and just...breaking down. He didn't deserve this. I wish I could go back and never have recorded that video. I took my USB and fucking smashed it into a million pieces just to feel like I did something. I am tired.

There's not going to be another update for awhile. I am in a very dark place.

Link

he needs to die

[thelovehypothesis]

You ramble, but it's adorable

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request 

+1k words

a/n's: this was requested on my old account which I accidentally deleted but, hope this fic finds the person that requested it!

warnings: fluff!

summary: lost in your latest obsession, and he's completely captivated by your every word—because to Ollie, every ramble is just another reason to fall in love.

Ollie had always found it easy to get lost in the small moments—those quiet pauses between races, when the world slowed down just enough for him to savour the simplicity of life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way he felt right now, watching you animatedly explain your latest obsession.

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked under you, eyes sparkling as you tried to unpack the complex universe that Taylor Swift had created with her "folklore" album. Your hands moved in quick gestures as you traced out what you called "the love triangle of all love triangles" between Betty, James, and August. Ollie leaned against the backrest, listening with a quiet smile, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"And then—" you continued, your voice slightly higher in pitch with excitement, "in 'Cardigan,' Betty is talking about how she loved James even after he messed everything up. But, and here's the crazy part, 'August' is from the perspective of the girl James cheated on her with!" You waved your hands in a dramatic arc. "It’s so genius because it’s like each song is a different piece of the same story. I mean, can you even imagine the emotional depth it takes to create something like that?"

Ollie chuckled softly, shaking his head just enough for you to notice but not enough to interrupt you. You barely paused, too deep in your passionate analysis of the music to stop. 

"But wait, I’m not done!" You looked at him, eyes wide. "You’ve got 'Betty' next, which is James' apology song. He’s basically trying to get Betty back after messing around with August, but you can tell he’s just a stupid kid who didn’t know what he had until he lost it!" You sighed dramatically, clutching a pillow to your chest. "It’s heartbreaking, but also like... I can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Ollie couldn't help it; his heart swelled at how much you cared about all these tiny details, how you put your whole soul into explaining it to him. He loved how your face lit up with excitement, how your voice carried the melody of your thoughts so effortlessly. And he especially loved how you didn’t care whether he knew every little detail or not—you just wanted to share it with him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" Ollie said softly, his voice cutting through your rambling just enough to make you pause.

You blinked, thrown off for a second. "What?" 

"You ramble, but it's adorable," he repeated, this time with that signature Ollie grin that made your stomach flip. He reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your cheek, warm and soft.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "I’m not rambling… am I?"

"You absolutely are," Ollie teased, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. "But don’t stop. I like it when you talk about stuff like this. It’s like... I can see how much it means to you, and I love seeing you so happy."

You playfully swatted his arm, but your heart was beating faster, the tender warmth of his words melting away any embarrassment. "Fine," you said, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness, "but don’t complain when I start talking about the metaphors behind the lyrics."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. His eyes softened as they held yours, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble disappeared.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of affection. But then Ollie deepened it, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips warm and insistent, making your heart race even faster. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but grin at him. "I think that was just a tactic to stop me from talking."

Ollie smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes impossible to ignore. "Maybe," he admitted, his thumb grazing your lower lip, "but it worked, didn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you were already melting under his touch. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing you in as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 

"Seriously though," Ollie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love listening to you talk. About Taylor Swift, about racing, about whatever it is that’s on your mind. You’re just so… passionate about everything, and it makes me love you even more."

The way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made your heart skip a beat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close again, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You’re too sweet, Ollie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around you. "Only for you."

For a while, you both stayed like that—curled up in each other’s arms, the TV flickering in the background, the weight of the world outside fading away. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that this moment, with him holding you so gently, was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while, you shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him again. "Okay, but I’m serious about that love triangle. You have to admit it’s pretty genius, right?"

Ollie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before nodding. "It’s genius," he agreed, even though he barely understood half of what you were saying. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your eyes lit up, the way your voice danced with excitement. And if listening to Taylor Swift conspiracies made you this happy, then he would listen to every single one.

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," you said, your voice softening.

Ollie smiled, brushing his lips against yours once more. "It’s not putting up with anything. I love it, and I love you."

And with that, he kissed you again—soft, sweet, and full of love. The kind of kiss that felt like home. The kind that made you feel like no matter what you rambled about, he would always be there to listen, to smile, and to love you through it all.

---The End---

-Lots of love, Em.

[nanenna]

Detective Work on the Other Side

We getting into my own HCs now, enjoy the lore!

Sleep King Master post (it should actually work this time)

---

It felt weird sitting in the Specter Speeder as Phantom with his parents. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d finally told his parents himself, but just like Jazz had said they’d loved and accepted him as is. Danny was still getting used to it.

Danny pointed out the windshield, “That island there should be good.” It was little more than an oversized boulder with some grass on it, but it was big enough for the speeder and was pretty close to Johnny and Kitty’s lair, so it would do. Once they landed, the three Fentons disembarked so Danny could let the lovers out of Soup Time.

“Ugh, finally!” Johnny griped once they were set free.

Danny crossed his arms, “How do you keep getting into Amity? We put extra protections on the portal, no one should be able to get through.”

“Your dinky portal isn’t the only one in the whole world,” Kitty said with an eye roll.

“You just gotta know where to look,” Johnny added with a wink.

“Well stop it! I don’t want to have to repeat a grade!”

“Then stop chasing us. Jeez, no one’s forcing you.”

“Danny, sweetie,” Mom interrupted, “ask them about the summoning.”

“Summoning?” Kitty asked, perking up.

“It’s really concerning,” Dad said while scratching his head.

“Yeah, I was asleep so I don’t really remember it but I got summoned last night.”

“How’d you sleep through a summoning?” Kitty asked incredulously with a sneer.

Johnny just nodded, “Damn, wish I could sleep through a summoning.”

“I don’t know!” Danny threw his hands up in the air. “The really weird part is they were trying to summon Pariah!”

That got Johnny and Kitty to stop laughing. “Oh shit, really?”

“Johnny! Don’t cuss around the baby!” Kitty smacked his arm lightly.

“You owe the swear jar,” Dad boomed eagerly.

Johnny just rolled his eyes.

“That’s what we were told,” Mom cut in. “There was a cult that was trying to summon the Ghost King and somehow got Danny.”

“Wait, were they trying to summon Pariah by name or the Ghost King title?” Kitty asked eagerly.

“Ghost King,” Mom said decisively.

“Oh no,” Danny said. His grades may be in the toilet, but even he could put two and two together. “No, there’s no way I’m the Ghost King!”

“Maybe,” Kitty said while looking Danny up and down.

“Not like it means anything,” Johnny said airily.

Danny thought the matter over, “How does it not mean anything?”

“Well Pariah just declared himself the Ghost King one day, others only listened because he forced them to. And it’s not like we need a king, we’ve had the council ever since.”

“Ugh, stupid eye balls,” Danny griped. “But yeah, if he just decided to make himself king I guess it doesn’t really mean anything.”

Mom sighed deeply, “You mean like Alexander the Great? Or Ghengis Khan? Or William the Conquerer? Or anyone else from history who declared himself in charge and then killed anyone who didn’t listen?”

Danny drooped, “Okay, so maybe it does matter. But how would that even work? Why am I the Ghost King now?”

“Dunno,” Johnny said with a shrug. “It’s not like you even have the crown or ring.”

“No, Pariah still has the ring and last I saw the crown Vlad had it.”

“Good old Vladdie,” Dad boomed eagerly, “holding onto a powerful artifact like that to keep it safe!”

“So shouldn’t Vlad be the new Ghost King?” Danny asked with a shudder.

“Well the summoning circle thinks you earned the title somehow, so I guess it’s you now.” Johnny snickered as he got on his bike, Kitty quickly hopping on behind him. “Anyway, see ya ‘round, your majesty.” Johnny sneered the last part, then the pair both laughed like Johnny had just told the best joke ever as he zoomed off.

“Well I’m proud of you!” Dad slapped Danny’s back so hard he face planted. “Fighting that nasty Ghost King was really brave of you, and look at you now! Our boy, the Ghost King!” Dad wiped away a tear of deep paternal pride.

Danny had already floated himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, completely unharmed. “Thanks Dad, that means a lot.” And it really did! He was used to his parents being proud of him, not for his grades obviously, but just… in general. Or something. To have his dad say he’s proud of things Danny did as Phantom just… hit different.

“Is there anyone we can ask about this? The council that ruffian mentioned?” Mom looked thoughtful.

“Ugh no, the council hates my guts for some reason.”

“Well… if they’ve been in charge since Pariah was put in the sarcophagus and you’re the king now, maybe they feel threatened?” Dad asked, rubbing his chin.

“That’s probably it, sweetiepie. They’re just threatened by you.” Mom gently pat his arm.

“That’s so weird! I don’t even want to be king, I’d probably be a terrible one anyway.”

Dad gasped, “Danno! That’s just not true! Sure, you’re a bit young to be king now, but in a few years I bet you’d be a great king!”

“Pass.” Danny did not want to add a crown to his disaster of a life. Especially if it meant he’d have to be a bully to make others listen to him anyway, it’s not like anyone listened to Pariah.

“So honey, anyone else we can ask about the Ghost King? Or summoning circles? I’m really worried about you randomly getting summoned by creepy cults.” And boy, did Mom have a point about that! Yikes!

“Uh… maybe Frostbite?” The yeti did keep calling him “Great One” and that had to mean something, right? And if not he could hopefully point them in the right direction.

“Wonderful!” Mom chirped as she started herding Danny back into the Speeder. “And along the way you can answer a few small questions about your fight with Pariah.”

“I’m sorry about taking the Ecto-skeleton without asking,” Danny blurted out, face turning green as it grew colder.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” Mom pinched his cheek, “we understand why you did it and why you felt you had to at the time. But never do it again, okay?”

“Yeah,” Danny said miserably as they got back into the speeder. Once Danny had pointed them in the direction of the Far Frozen, he sat criss cross applesauce in the air. “So uh… questions?”

“Oh yeah! What questions did you have, fudgecakes?”

“Well…” Mom started but hesitated before continuing slowly. “This sounds like it might be a right of conquest situation.”

Danny had no idea what that meant. Well he knew what the words individually meant, and he had a pretty good idea what the phrase meant generally, but he had no idea what the rules or details were.

“Was this an official challenge?” Mom asked when Danny only stared blankly at her.

“Uh… maybe?” Danny tried thinking back to the fight, “What would make it an official challenge?”

“Did the Ghost King say he accepted your challenge? Or challenge you?”

“He uh…” Danny tried to remember the times he’d bantered with Pariah. “He said he accepted my terms,” Danny said with a squeak near the end.

Mom just nodded, “Right, so it sounds like a challenge. And did you take his crown at any point in the fight?”

Danny tried to remember the end of the fight, and well… “Yeah, I knocked it off him right before shoving him back into the sarcophagus. But Vlad had the key that actually locked it, and then he had the crown the last time I saw it.”

“Danny, sweetie, Vlad didn’t challenge the Ghost King to single combat, and he didn’t take the crown as part of that challenge.”

“Oh,” was all Danny could say as the realization of what he’d unwittingly done sank in. “Well… shit.”

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley

Fem!Reader gets the wrong number, but she REALLY needs a driver.

Part two here.

It hadn’t been a bad night—she danced, drank, laughed with her friends... But now, she was alone outside the club, searching for that Uber contact her friend had sent, fingers shaking as she tried to type the number correctly.

She nearly let out a dramatic little cry when she checked the time; it was freezing.

The vibrations of her phone in her hand came like a lifeline in the disorienting haze of neon lights, loud music, and a few too many cocktails. She blinked as a new text popped up from “Uber???” Well, that’s what she had saved him as anyway.

She squinted at the message, trying to process the details in her tipsy state. A mask? What kind of Uber driver wore a mask? She brushed it off, assuming he was just another eccentric in this city full of them. But a masked, mysterious stranger in a black truck? Right now, that sounded way better than the alley she was stuck in. Besides, she could take care of herself. Probably.

And then she saw it—a figure lurking across the street, watching her from the shadows, eyes flicking from her to his phone, and then back again. She swallowed, nerves prickling. She tried to ignore the feeling, but it lingered, crawling up her spine.

Suddenly, her fingers flew across the screen.

No reply.

She clenched her phone tighter, looking up and down the empty street, then glanced back at her screen. She could feel the rising urge to text him again and again, each message tinged with a touch more urgency.

Somewhere miles away, Simon glanced at his phone, his thumb hovering over the steering wheel. He’d put himself through hell and back in countless battlefields, facing down horrors most men would never imagine, but this? Being spammed by a random, drunk girl with a barrage of panicked messages? It was almost… comical.

What am I doing? he thought, irritation flickering under his mask. He was almost 40, practically ancient by some standards, and here he was, playing the knight in black armor for some stranger who probably didn’t even know her own last name right now.

Yet there he was, pressing down harder on the gas pedal.

The next text buzzed as he turned a corner.

The words ignited something in him, a familiar protective instinct that refused to let up. He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing as he watched the road blur past. When he’d agreed to pick her up, it was because he didn’t trust her to make it home in one piece. He could tell she’d been drinking, and he had no patience for the kinds of creeps that lingered around clubs at this hour. But now…now it felt like a mission.

The final turn brought her into view—a small, unsteady figure with her back against a wall, clutching her phone like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to safety. And standing just a few feet away from her was the guy. Tall, with a slick smile and hands shoved in his pockets, like he had all the time in the world to wait her out.

Simon’s truck screeched to a halt, the dark engine purring like a beast as he glared through the windshield. He didn’t even need to get out; the guy’s eyes widened the moment the headlights hit him, and he took a few steps back, muttering something before disappearing into the shadows.

Simon killed the engine and got out, his towering figure partially hidden by the black mask over his face, and for a second, she stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Uh…Uber?” she said with a drunken giggle, half-nervous, half-relieved.

“Get in,” he muttered, shooting her a look as he opened the passenger door.

She clambered in, her expression melting from shock into something warm, a little playful as she buckled herself up. “Mr. Uber Driver… you’re my hero,” she slurred.

He grunted, barely acknowledging her. “Text me like that again, and I might just leave you next time.”

She smiled, eyes heavy-lidded, safe and sound in the passenger seat of his big, black truck.

[This is a first part]

[Part two here]

[sorryimananti-romantic]

you coming out of your isolation cavern to read 🤝 me going to my isolation cavern after posting (we love our isocaverns don't we) BUT YES YOUR NAME! AHAHAHA no i needed that validation, tho i ended up making my villains milder than i had initially planned

AHAHAHA you should not have held back i would love to hear the feedback from bleach's perspective I USED SO MANY QUOTES HERE BRO but i'm sure you noticed most? of them hehe thank you for being so thoughtful tho <33

wc who i don't know her (it's 16kish im so sorry folks)

THAT MIDDLE PIC AAAAAAAA RIGHT i found it by chance but it's so fitting considering how all the cameras are pointing to him hehe

omg you're the second person to compare this to new world and this was unintentional but it ended up this way and now i see why too. he's a delulu prince in that fic, he's a delulu politician here. same same.

doing reblog reply same format as you so hongjoong:

PREP WHAT did i forget to mention that you're already PREPPED for him should i have to spell that out READER WAS PREPPED BEFORE THE EVENT EVEN BEGAN LOLLLLL (is prep short for prepared bc how come i never connected the dots)

omg the collective pronouns vs first person yes thank you for noticing i can always count on you to notice all the details (even those i haven't noticed myself LOL)

YES OMG we are manipulated and aware and trapped and in love and also wanting to be free we are ✨confused✨

AND YES MY FAV DETAIL from going to being the salvation of the common people, 'they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour' TOOOO he is 'your lord, your saviour' WHO ARE WE ARE WE THE COMMON PPL

seonghwa:

what do you mean you had to google what jekyll was about DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO/WHAT JEKYLL AND HYDE IS (screams do you not get the concept) (<-i've been using tiktok too much)

with park seonghwa... you gotta be delusional to function man

HELP AHAHAHAHA PREYING WHY DID ANIMALS BY MAROON 5 STARTED PLAYING IN MY HEAD WHEN I READ THAT LINE

LMAO okay miss ma'am i see you're the obsessive kind hmm *takes note*

lmao yes the soul society was supposed to be an alternate term for their society name but i came up with nothing better (i was cbs) so soul society it is

THEY'VE TEASED EACH OTHER ENOUGH IT'S TIME TO GET 🤪 FREAKYY

bruh so real story: i made seonghwa an alter-ego serial killer first, right. but... it wasn't working for me, bc for that to be impactful with someone like seonghwa, i felt like the reader had to be the victim or be morally white at first. but then it would become a story about seonghwa morally corrupting the reader (i think i should make that a separate fic) anddd then i decided seonghwa is a saint in all universes and must not get his hands directly dirty LOL idk i failed to write him as a true villain he's so morally white coded that all i could get to was morally grey seonghwa yfeel

yunho

AHAHAHA yes hunter yunho with that moodboard HITS (also another real story i planned to make him a stalker/serial killer but then i was like there's so much stalker stuff out there and then i spent some good time thinking what other villains he can make. cult leader- again, a lot of fics about it. so serial killer it is. again. basically guerrilla LOL)

can there be one yunho fic without a mention of his hand in my blog? if that happens, that's not me. that's an impostor.

how would girlie know he kills for fun when it's THE JEONG YUNHO come on chron we know we all would fold instantly

i'll fix him :D (i want him to fix me-)

YES AHAHAHAHA THOSE QUOTES are some of my fav from bleach and yes about your analysis that's not what i intended but if it comes off like that to the reader, that's a bonus for me bro (i actually wrote all of this fic head empty no thoughts so surprisingly the details you've caught in this, 90 percent happened on their own)

yeosang

oooo not even bones sounds interesting but yeah medical malpractice and stuff like this happens a lot in real life unfortunately :/

lmao the imagery right ahhahahaha 😭😭 just tired but can't-wait-to-see-the-loml yeosang coming for his daily kiss before he gets back to work LOL

THE GUTS WAS UNINTENTIONAL TOO SEE NOTHING SO FAR HAS BEEN INTENTIONAL BUT THANK YOU FOR ANALYSING THIS FIC LIKE A LITERATURE STUDENT LOVE YOU

RIGHT that bleach quote when i tell you i've been ITCHING to use it somewhere since i first came across it and only to end up using here is kinda diabolical djfghdfkgh

yeosang and chicken are besties again if i don't mention chicken in a yeosang fic? impostor

san

WAREHOUSE MENTION HEHEHE

yess also one of my fav quotes hehe and omg that quote hits too i'm gonna save it for sth in the future (also literally who do i need to sell my soul to to come up with the juiciest dialogues like tite kubo does)

yeah so san was the 3rd or 4th member i wrote (yeosang first and seonghwa second and maybe yunho after) and by that time i had already lost the plot (of how villains was not supposed to be cute fluff like THIS) but i'm happy with how this turned out anyway :')

yepp i'm gonna try doing the judge, jury and executioner trio fr in some fic in the future (says i who is taking a break from writing LOL it's never a break with me)

mingi

youth mv mingi >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

yep very domestic now this was intentional AHAHAHA thank you for commenting on it <3

RISKING IT ALL FOR A TIP LIKE A TRUE KDRAMA LEAD okay but when i write and i need to think about plot twists or whatever i usually think of my fic like a kdrama too and play it in my head so yes you can see the influence here

ahaha i'm glad i got mingi's characterisation good bc honestly for me he's been the hardest to write (bc he's literally me i'm literally mingi minus the being scared and jumpy part we're literally the same ppl)

omgg yes now that comparison you made thank you that put a smile on my face (says i who's been giggling the entire time i read your reblog)

EXCUSE ME WDYM YOU (H)ATE HIM DFGHDKJFGH IM CALLING THE COPS

real tho. mingi's was my fav to write too which is why i'm hoping i can make a full fic out of this and have exactly this painting scene somewhere :'))

wooyoung

wooyo MADE for e2l fics ngl

lmao your wooyo feedback is so funny WDYM GET IN LINE FDJGHKDFG

no but the clash between their jobs/morals and then their attraction. doomed lovers. oh, how i love doomed lovers :')

jongho

RIGHT my fav reader character was the jongho one we love a powerboss girly slay pop who's got crazy comebacks huehuehe

but yes the vulnerability in between this game they're playing. ahhh. they need to sit down and have a drink and really, really talk about why they are the way they are

AND YES i loved this lil moment where jongho tells reader to stand up straight like?? we love a man who recognises a woman's worth. the only time he'd want the reader to not stand up straight and maybe bend and maybe maybe be on her knees is when she finally submits to him iykwim-

BUT YES he remains a (loveable) little shit

YOU WILL NEVER OWN ME says she when in reality we all know that's not happening we fold way too easily-

Ateez as Villains

disclaimer: read at your own risk. do not interact if not comfortable with any tropes. reminder that this is a work of fiction and must be treated so. 

warnings: absolutely no morals here, 18+ mdni, illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical abuse, stalking, trafficking, financial crimes, dirty politics, corruption), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol

a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here

Hongjoong

The Manipulator

hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills

from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people

he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words

so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician

hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror

you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high

“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.” 

he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country

people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world 

and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional

but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words

he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him

hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight

he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium

the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation 

he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party

to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change

but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation

they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory

you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation

“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up

you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there

you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it

you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured

and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you

in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you

and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here

you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary

oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving

that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one

it must be the fates that led him to where he is today

after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?

he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words

it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them

but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous

the world is not run by saints, after all

“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted

you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes

you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party

but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you

“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple

“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means

he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader

he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another

and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?

you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely

he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits

you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober

you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse

corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it

you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now

you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics

you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride

there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him

‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader

except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them

he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads

despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean

and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes

a true politician, he’s been dubbed

it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party

you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great

‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into

they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia

they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour

he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold

and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears

hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator

when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom

his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him

he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him

his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed

until that too becomes scalding hot

he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard

he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants

he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still

you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants

“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”

his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him

“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them

“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”

his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought

“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face

“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?

he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead

“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”

“for the greater good-”

“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration

“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”

“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”

you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning

you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods

all he knows is that he is right

he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation

and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint

the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become

his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him

between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place

“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”

you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down

he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed

as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him

“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”

“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”

“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”

“afraid of what?”

“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye

“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone

you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice

every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it

“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”

hongjoong notices your choice of words

you can not leave him- you do not have a choice

he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night

it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right? 

it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless

since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close

it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms

your lord, your saviour

The Manipulator and the Manipulated

Seonghwa

Jekyll

park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes

be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal

he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart

you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes 

but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him

it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does 

your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)

your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well

he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way

plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)

he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all

so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant

you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides 

basically, moments away from a disaster

he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth

you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”

“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him

and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes

for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons

before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him

the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster

as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief

and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that

he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department

and he thanks you for helping him

you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline

you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him

it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy

and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in

you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new

you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there

it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)

you like how it is there- neat and clean

the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now

and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter

however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him

you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?

does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?

perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it

seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either

it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data

wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them

people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly

wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow

seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that

all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught

in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar

here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them

he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face

he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?

so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can

he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew

you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end

“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”

seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other

he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table

“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes

you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-

“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly 

you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking

“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either

he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle

from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise

from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks

there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension

and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?

“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies

upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back 

you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him

and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature

you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting

you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen

you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you

it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it

does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?

so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis

you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy 

“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-

too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-

and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently

he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again

“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student

you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)

seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact

you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin

he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing

except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear

“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”

to say that you freeze is an understatement

you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position

you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back

“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper

the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget

“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”

there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you

a moment of pure static

as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens

you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other

it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground

only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright

between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you

you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though

but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme

he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him

you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots

he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)

for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research

mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control

very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs

he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him

seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person

so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead

you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out

you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face

while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld

there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them

you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park

no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research

nothing to worry about

Jekyll and Hyde

Yunho

The Hunter

when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye

there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread 

for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth

his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company

he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising

so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe

you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’

she was not lying, is all you can think now

you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh

however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school 

you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them

the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner

surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common

you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud 

like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet

the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)

just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night

as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too

you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless

it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own

he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months

you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting

so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home 

and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs

he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it

which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot

he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be 

you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading

more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games

since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence

it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun

he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)

his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again

it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone

it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys

and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks

is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same

the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone

the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance

you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving

despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman

you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow

but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths

nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back

and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air

every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen

you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person? 

not once do you think of calling the police though

you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie

sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie

when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch

“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does

he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore

“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask

“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”

“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room 

you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen

“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high

when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway

your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it

yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink

only he fucking forgot

it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters

“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink

yeah. it does not look that bad

“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”

that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these

“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that

he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something

truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you

he also knows you are far too observant for your own good

he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him

though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess

you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct

is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not

when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony

and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)

it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there

you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots

on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink 

you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant

there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie 

“it really was you,” you say, unwavering

your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right

yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this

did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no

he just never imagined it would unfold like this

and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head

you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person

you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now

to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you

you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly

“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”

yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are

he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room

and then he bares his heart to you

he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him

he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it

and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them

“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”

yunho’s eyes widens at your response

you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one 

you have no one but him- how did that happen?

he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed

he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode 

why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?

you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you

so he trusts you and waits for you

he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you

you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse

though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess

and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other

“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close

“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.

The Hunter and His Guide

Yeosang

The Mad Scientist

there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him

that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul

the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals

the goals are all related to science

sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do

doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body

nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories

he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart

he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others

he is much appreciated by his peers

they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace

the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars 

jars containing the human body parts within them

from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver

each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs

each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)

taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition

such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold

his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all

he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile

and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone

you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you

you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder

“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”

the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world

“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.

you know what he means

there surely must be others just like him

you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you

the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom 

“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”

“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”

well, that’s arguable 

you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close

in fact, overqualified

“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”

you are an expert, that is true

you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way

you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic

and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife

your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market

but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist 

you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life

you would be his equal. an accomplice 

“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer

it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms

a muffled sound interrupts your little moment

you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace

the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs

the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room

the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used

he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man

really, no one would care if he went missing

in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?

surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive

though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live

“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”

it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity

but that’s what you like about him

he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good

there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no

he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world

he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age

he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore

he complains about this a lot 

if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago

sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women

he is different from them, he claims

he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments

it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human

(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)

you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell

he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out

the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid

the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor 

he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now

yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses 

his hand is gently caressing the man’s head

when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten

he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression

he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart

you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function

yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically

“let’s get to work, shall we?”

you smile in response, following his instructions

soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market 

you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you

yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already 

and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here

his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen

it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over

it doesn’t disappoint any of you though

yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him 

plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure

you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher

you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free

yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question

“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed? 

yeosang stands beside you, pondering

“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”

you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all

after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore

the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place

you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss

just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other

just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company

as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you

you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile

it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation

and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?

yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast 

just two partners in crime. that’s who you are

The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice

San

Executioner

choi san works hard during the day

he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape

as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips

he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires

so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit

they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything

as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world

so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher

but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that

certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is

when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out

someone programmes, another composes, another works out

just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties

except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app

“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go. please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”

san is contemplating if he should accept this request

you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons

you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head

“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”

you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request

you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting

it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows

the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse

he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans

“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”

you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”

“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors

it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl

san lost his temper that time, though

and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them

and funnily enough, san was scarier that night

scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon

you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil

“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”

was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night

a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends

“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it

he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”

“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field 

san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long

“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms

“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it

“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”

san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you

there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?

“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”

because it was originally your idea

on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town

a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks

you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being

it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors

the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud

“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”

it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed

it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules

you were not going to kill anyone- only maim

if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again

if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak

the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner

wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains

so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role

“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”

this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles

“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”

“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”

san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you

his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile

immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice

and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention

“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”

you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside

your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker

you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself 

he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on

just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe

you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker 

and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him

he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch

the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes

there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist 

from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask

and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand

you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat

you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand

san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room 

even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling

san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come

there is no help, not for miles

“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet 

san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up

“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”

the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead 

“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”

“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”

san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain

he leans in to whisper in his ear

“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”

the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison

most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him

the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors

“surely… you’re not him, are you?”

you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes

san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there

the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces

you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg

san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again

the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes

san’s job is done

he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to

when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request

wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works

“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives

“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”

san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to

you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood

and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him

and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him

“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”

“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”

Judge, Jury and Executioner

Mingi

The Overseer

“the future, pitch black, upside down”

mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas

the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend

and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life

despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life

he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-

“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly

even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-

“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table

-for something as meagre as tea

mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit

which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight

“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail

“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation

because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets

mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it

“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look

you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss

you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought

“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question 

mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now

where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life

you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out

he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big

all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends

he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation

every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had

when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance

you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home

at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live

and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it 

although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong

men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on

only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around

while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider

you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny

so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie

you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching

you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs

they all had guns, for fuck’s sake

you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there

and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth

“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down

“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”

“not so quick,” his gaze darkened 

instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head

he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man

the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek

he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more

“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”

the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued

you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target

when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly

you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head

your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour

to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?

he knew you were something special right away

you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back

he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly

“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes

“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”

“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine

“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully

mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order 

the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job

mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it

you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?

personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these? 

sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses

sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook

other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes

you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t

somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are

you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others

but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi

whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different

“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”

“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”

“you looked like a lost cat”

“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them

truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either

he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly

he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that

he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions

but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond

he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence

he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals

because he is not a good person, you found out

song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals

despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you 

he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space

when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you

if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be

if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded

when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do

you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms

it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like

are you in a relationship? you don’t know

all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life

it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does

it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind

it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters

so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him

he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle

“really?” he asks

“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”

mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore

your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action

“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain

“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”

you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?

“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment

“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds

you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”

“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies

“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat

his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you

“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”

mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know

of course you do

mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you

“i won’t break,” you promise

“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”

your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours

“are you sure about your choice?”

“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”

mingi draws back

“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him

“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you

mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips

it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment 

you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees

he assesses the canvas once again

as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him

yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world

The Overseer and his Shelter

Wooyoung

The Maniac

it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung

you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end

it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next

someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery

someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger

you chase after each other like cat and mouse

only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse

sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung

jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town

a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind

a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall

he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator 

some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion

with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating

while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections

he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed 

he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion

no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot

there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry

and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes

you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house

you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire

to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out 

while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style

he gets away with anything

you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it

they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him

the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once

you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars

you want him to chase after you like you chase after him

you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention

it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung

it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were

someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung

you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway

and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac

you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears

here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later

except… you get something out of the chasing now

all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again

with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot

with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him 

as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right

“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt

“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths

you can not let him know the effect he has on you

however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation

you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows

all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two

his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself

he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours

his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off

you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung

(at least the door is locked)

wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet

the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening

you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target

but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones

all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties

upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest

he catches your fist in his hand, though

“all for me?” he asks

in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him

he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table

he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you

he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on

and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on

“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”

“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”

wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget

“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”

you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?

he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming

for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly

this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control

you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end

truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here

wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings

he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him

well, you try not to, but he is insistent

he takes you home and he invites himself in

you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down

loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know

“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”

“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him

he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that

it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him

(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)

while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings

you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?

you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work

the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved

so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks

“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung 

wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face

“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”

“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-

but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you

“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath

you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter

telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating

and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs

he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover 

you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back

when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung

“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”

“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”

wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity

“did you think it meant something else?” he asks

it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing

you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two

he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you

so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight

(and he does. not before a second round)

when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight

everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger

it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now

though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later

for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse

and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse

The Maniac and his Shadow

Jongho

The Tyrant

it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking

the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury

it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others

as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior

the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like

choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time

“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff

you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders

you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up

you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time

however, things are not in your favour this time

in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive

sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game

except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal

your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must

sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you

if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?

“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly

you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you

the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone

jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat

you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing 

you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves

“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”

an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you

at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right

you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend

“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”

now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark

“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly

you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally

jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company

a monster of capitalism

known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on

a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is

he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel

and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him

“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows

you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal

your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry

they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)

the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo

you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is

“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”

jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make

“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks

“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”

“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”

you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you

jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”

“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”

he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”

you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites

you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”

“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”

“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic

“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city

a tyrant- that’s who he is

he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives

you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”

“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”

you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions

“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”

jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words

“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes 

“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”

“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers

you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you

“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper

it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho

“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away

he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment

“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre

“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone

he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)

“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”

“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”

“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes

“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”

that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone

there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you 

except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events

you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other

you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose

there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else

do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure

“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”

“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room

“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”

you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that

“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say

jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards

“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise 

you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks

“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”

“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”

“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”

you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine

the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt

when he embraces you, you lean on him physically

and you almost give in, except…

“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue 

“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”

you look up at him, finding him smirking

just like you thought

“not a chance, choi jongho.”

“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse

“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”

his eyes glint almost dangerously

“challenge accepted,” he says

you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room

choi jongho never changes, and neither do you

but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him

even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not

The Tyrant and His Defiant Ally

[sh1-n0bu]

i have noticed a small pattern of elves being on my latest fictional character obsessions and HEAR ME OUT!!

elf who has lived for hundreds upon thousands of years, who had experienced many of the things the world has to offer. sadness of bidding hundreds of farewells to the beauty of life and alliance of different races

elf who even after all his years of living still yet to find a love for himself. regal and seemingly detached to the concepts of relationships elves may be, even they get lonely. some nights feeling a little bit too long, a little bit too cold as they add another layer of blanket over themselves or reaching over to hug one of his puffy pillows like how he would hug his future lover. the coldness of being immortal seeping into his bones and making him shiver despite elves being above the concept of getting sick or feeling the cold temperatures

elf who runs into you by some chance meeting. maybe you were walking in the territory of elves without knowing it, maybe he purposely goes to human residences and towns, seeking adventure, excitement and change of pace. who immediately is enamored by you just by your smile that you flash his way, a kind one, a gentle one, to a nearby passenger. who falls in love with the callouses of your hand, the freckles, the small scars, the little bits of imperfection that marked you as clearly human, very much mortal, very much brittle but still with your own strength that he hasn’t felt before

elf bf who starts to court you the moment he realizes that you weren’t seeing anyone, bringing small gifts, exchanging knowledge, singing you soft ancient lullabies that no other mortal has ever heard before. maybe he finds himself writing a poem about you one day, describing your looks, your feelings, your everyday actions that you may see as mundane but ones he sees as just as courageous and beautiful in their own ways

elf bf who has never seen human flesh or bare skin before, finding the rippling biceps and toned legs of yours to be… curious. a tentative finger touching the muscles here and there, stopping you mid work as he inquires about them in a soft tone. elves of course were magical beings, blessed with magic and eternity and had no need to develop visible physical muscles till the point they become buff or beefy to some extent all due to their magic and ancient powers. the tips of his pointy ear twitching softly, eyes wide in wonder as you explain that contrary to his kin, your own develop muscles if they are put to work in physically demanding job for enough time

elf bf who over time, finds himself obsessively scribbling down any sort of new information about human anatomy on a journal, always asking you new things as he finds himself able to learn more despite having been alive for hundreds upon thousands of years. tracing the old faded scars on your body with the tip of his finger, counting the freckles, kissing the stretch marks as they were all you. regardless of how you see it, to him it was all you, together and healthy. you were alive even if you may have battle scars and he always makes sure to thank the stars as it was thanks to the tribulations you have conquered that you two were here now. staring eye to eye, touching your foreheads together as you whisper about mundane things

elf bf who one day sees you cut down a tree, cut a log off or prepare firewood and finds that he was imagining the bulge of your muscles against himself. big arms caging him in a bear hug, legs to support him and strong back that he could sink his nails into as he moans under you— hold. since when has his thoughts of you turned… impure? since when has he become turned on? sitting there on one of the logs with a painful strain against his pants as he swallowed the saliva that gathered in his jaw down, tearing his gaze away. no no, he really shouldn’t think of you as such, you were still in courting phase after all and elves were a race that took their romances and courting extremely important

yet regardless of his kin’s customs and traditions, your pretty elf bf couldn’t help but continue to stare. his gaze constantly seeking your figure out, seeing you just go through the motions of every life peacefully while he gets pathetically turned on by your actions as if he was still but a fledgling who learned of a kiss. chopping down trees for firewood, maybe you would work in front of a fire or heat for too long and get sweaty, removing one of the overtunics. maybe you’re just simply dragging a bucket full of water from the well, cranking the pulley as the muscles on your arms and back strained

elf bf who finds himself extremely aroused as his mind wanders to the gutters as he just shamelessly stares at your working form. oh, to feel those calloused hands touch his colder skin, palms smoothening over his creamy skin, and down his chest, his stomach and over his bulge. maybe you would tease the poor thing, tease him of how quick he is to get aroused, the pre of his half-hard cock weeping through his underwear and pants like he was some sore pathetic loser. a little virgin. bully him about being unable to use his cock, make him whine at your mean words as his hips weakly buckle under your exploratory hands

elf bf who couldn’t help but imagine the usual sweetness of your attitude gone, replaced by one that was just a tad bit meaner as you pushes his face down into the pillows of your bed, force his hands to stretch open his puckering hole for you to fuck senselessly. imagining you whispering all sorts of filth into his twitching ears, promising to breed him full, to use him to your heart’s content all night long as he whines and squeals like a little lamb caught in the nest of a hungry wolf. who couldn’t swallow down the quiet whimper coming from his throat as he imagined your hand grasping at his long locks, fisting it tightly as you yank him back, forcing him to arch his back and push the tip of your cock to bruise his guts even more

elf bf who waves off your worry when you had managed to hear the embarrassing noise that slipped past his lips, saying that he was having a bit of a sore throat. gods, he would love to actually whimper from having a sore throat of getting his mouth plowed all day by your fat cock head forcing his jaws wiiideee open

elf bf who couldn’t help but get a little needy in his kisses since then. hands that touched your muscles with curiosity now running over your skin as if trying to feebly seduce you. dropping things to the ground a bit too many times, following you close behind even as you told him that some of the work you needed to do required space and for him to be away for his own safety. who straddles your lap all snug, pushing his chest flush against your own as your simply daily evening kisses after dinner becomes a bit too heated. he definitely had little to no experience with the way his tongue kept licking at your lips meagerly, long fingers curling over your shoulders tightly while his bucking hips on your lap as he starts to get hard again

elf bf who has finally had enough of just his meager imaginations, tugging on the strings of your white tunic with shaky hands as he rambles about touching you, you touching him, feeling him, using him — anything dammit! use those hands of yours on him!

elf bf who soon realizes that he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew when your hands grip at his hips, dragging his clothed cock against your thigh that had him whining like a cat in heat. meagerly, he tries to replicate what you just made him do, dragging his hips back and forth on your thigh but he all but just looks like an inexperienced bunny. which he probably was judging by the things he spoke to you about himself

elf bf who finds so much pleasure in simply grinding against your thigh for now, the precum of his now hard cock weeping through his pants, staining it into a darker color. all cute and red in the face that spread to his pointy ears, cute high pitched whines falling from his chewed up pink lips. a cute, surprised “a-aahn♡︎??” echoing in the room as you pull his eager body against your own. your chest to his back, hands loosely draped over the hip bone of his

elf bf who lets out the most embarrassing high pitched squeals when your hands travel up his body under his clothes, traveling more and more until teasing at his nipples. rolling your fingertips against the soft areola, squeezing and fondling his pecks as if they were breasts. who jolts in place when you pinch at the hardened buds, tugging at them to test the waters as he arches his back off of your chest, a filthy mewl falling as if he was being fucked stupid already

elf bf who blubbers out uncharacteristic words of “s-shensiitiivgh♡︎ n-no, don’t pinch the-eeengk♡︎♡︎!“ his pleads of your rough hands not torturing his sensitive nipples being replaced with an open mouthed wail when you place a kiss to the pointy tip of his ear. his ears were so sensitive! you knew that and now you were just being downright mean to him as you whisper filth into his ears of acting like a cooped up virgin for merely getting his chest played with. he wasn’t! he was way older than you! slurring out “how c-could you be sooh m-meanngk…♡︎?” as you lick a slow stripe up the pointy helix

elf bf who bucks his hips on your thigh, trying to bounce, trying to move away but ending up whining as his clothed cock grazes against your hardened muscles again. his cute nipples being tortured and groped by your hands, the delicate helix of his ears being assaulted by your wet kisses and licks. any time your hot breath spoke into his ears of how he was such a precious little thing, just like a bunny in heat, he would try to wiggle away. shaking his head with a weak sniffle, his mind churning into a mush as all he could do was to pathetically fuck his cock into your thigh, letting out a soft mewl everytime you buck your leg up to meet his shy excuse of thrusts, jumping in place

elf bf whose minds and body starts to feel weird. the room feeling stifling and your touch making his own skin heat up too much. who tries to tell you that he was feeling ‘odd’ and concerned, yet only to harshly thrust his hips back into your own arousal. eyes widening, a shudder running down his spine at the feeling. still clothed and hidden like his own but good grief, it just felt… so huge since he was sure your human dick couldn’t possibly be much bigger than his own. but no, it got him gulping down the saliva in his mouth

elf bf who bounces himself experimentally onto your own hardened, covered dick, feeling his balls brush against where he guesses is the tip of your strap. his earlier cute whines growing in volume as your torture of his sensitive spots grow worse, groping, squeezing, calling him too eager to get fucked, making him dumb and airheaded. the constant tugs to his chest, the words you spat into his mind so lovingly and the small actions of your hips thrusting up to meet his own weaker excuse of grinding

elf bf who’s voice grow more and more breathier, who finally loses it as he throws himself back against your chest, his head on your shoulder as he let out a wail of “h-hoowt!! t-too ahgg♡︎ haah anhg t-too hoounwt...♥︎!” as he cums into his pants, dirtying the material as a single glob or two of his sweet transparent arousal oozes out through the linen. the dark patch growing into a considerable size, his body racked with twitches and jolts as he cums untouched on your lap. precious little thing getting drunk on the feeling of sex and physical pleasure so much till the point he disregards all of his traditions, bending himself over onto the bed, his hand reaching back to tug you forward by the belt with a desperate whine and a cute blown wide pupils and twitching ears♡︎

⇨ meludir, lindir, legolas, maglor, mairon + whoever you like

[anarchy-and-piglins]

I probably won't write anything for it, but I need to share this with the world and I felt you would appreciate it: Em Duo/Boreal Trio "Knight and Day (2010)" Au, (but platonic)

Techno is flying home for an event of Skeppy's, they were orphans in the same group home and Skeppy would kill him if he wasn't there for the event (in canon it's a wedding, but a graduation or something would do) when he gets bumped into by a blond man in the airport. Man kindly helps him up, brushes him off, tells him "it's my fault, mate," and disappears. Techno goes through security, seeing glimpses of the blond man as he goes. When he gets through the security, the man bumps into him again. They chat a bit and Techno finds it weirdly easy to talk to this guy. It's like they've known each other for years. Turns out they're headed to the same gate, but when Techno gets there he's told he's not on the flight. The blond man says something cryptic about things happening for a reason and is checked onto the plane. Techno goes to wait for the next flight and is surprised twenty minutes later to be told there was a mistake and there is room on the plane for him.

He gets on the (empty, like really really empty there's maybe five guys total and the crew on the) plane, seated kitty corner from the blond man from before, who looks a bit perturbed that he's there, but still friendly. They take off and Techno and the guy, Phil, have a nice chat as they fly towards Snowchester. About halfway through, Techno spills something on himself because of turbulence. He excuses himself from the conversation to go clean up and Phil says he'll walk around the cabin for a bit and follows him back to the bathroom. When Techno comes out of the bathroom, Phil is nervously holding two drinks and after handing one to Techno explains that the pilot and the co-pilot and the crew and all of the passengers have uh... well, uh... well they're dead. And uh, they're gonna be landing. Soon. Like really soon. See, the co-pilot shot the pilot after Phil shot the co-pilot, but everything's okay, Phil's a wonderful pilot himself, he'll get them down, and everything is completely under control.

Phil's actually a secret agent trying to stop a top secret project "Zephyr" created by a kid called Ranboo from falling into the wrong hands. He'd used Techno as a mule to get the "Zephyr" through security, and was supposed to be walking into a trap on that plane, which is why he'd tried to warn Techno to stay off it. But who's gonna turn down an earlier flight and a free upgrade, huh? So the agency who's trying to get the "Zephyr" put Techno back on the plane to see what would happen. So now Phil is responsible for keeping civilian Techno alive while Techno panics his way through multiple occasions of extreme danger where Phil has to get them out of there by the skin of their teeth, often by drugging or knocking Techno out for the greater good.

Thoughts?

-- @goat-boo-truther

I had never in my life heard of this movie but this sounds like a very amusing plot. And I'm definitely a fan of 'just a guy Techno' in any circumstance, so that'd be very funny here. If you do ever decide to write it, I would read this for sure hehe

[doublejango]

I am already seeing virtue signaling posts from people saying "I don't care what you believe or how you voted..."

That's great. I care. I care a lot. The outcome of this election effects me, but so much more than me. I care. It matters. And if it really doesn't matter to you? Good for you. If you are privileged enough, safe enough, and entitled enough to truly not care about how the election will impact other people... I can't even imagine what that must be like. Nice, I guess?

I spent most of last night and this morning crying.

I'm done with tears now, and have moved on to rage.

And you know what? I promise not to let it burn out. Because smiles and positivity may work for many of us, and I'm not going to lose mine either, I promise not to lose my queer joy--they can rip it from my cold dead hands, not to get too damn dramatic here--but I'm also not in the mood to start forgiving and smiling and welcoming Nazis into the bar.

So. I will hold onto anger. I've been tolerant and accepting long enough in life... and have learned something important about what causes the worst harm.

I have been gay bashed before. Violently. Blood. Broken bones. Lost teeth. And you know what the worst part of the recovery of all of that was, the part that did the most psychological and emotional damage? It wasn't the actual bashing itself. It wasn't even the memory of exactly what it felt like to have something swung full force into my face with extremely violent intent. It was the denial from my "friends" and family afterwards. The people who wanted to deny that it was a hate crime. The people who wanted me to shrug it off and not be upset about it. The people who loved to say oh well it wasn't that bad. You know what helped? Letting myself feel fury. Letting myself name the attack as hate. "It wasn't that bad," though, they said, asif it was their judgment to make--endless hours of dental procedures, pain, wounds that never fully healed, the trauma, the lost work, the new experience of vomiting blood with broken jaws and knocked out teeth. Because it wasn't that bad. And there was so much self-reproach, because I could have avoided it. I wasn't the intended target. He was swinging for a lesbian with me. When the attacker burst out of hiding he was swinging for the side of her head, her temple. I jumped in between them. Didn't think. It was an impulse. Protect the people you care about. So I took it to the face. And I grabbed him. I threw him, and fell doing it. I remember being on my knees in the mud. Seeing my teeth in the mud. Seeing my blood just. Everywhere. And knowing I needed to push back to my feet immediately because it might not be over.

We were lucky. It was over. He hadn't expected anyone to fight back. He ran.

But the people who claimed to love me didn't want to deal with the idea that it was a hate crime. They wanted it to be random and meaningless. That made their world a little safer, I guess. And their denial made my world colder. And my recovery lonelier. Harder. They put me down for "bringing it on myself." As if it would have been more virtuous to let this woman take that attack to her temple, as if I would have been more valid for standing by and watching it happen.

There are so many more stories I can tell you, but the lesson is almost invariably the same: the ugliest hurt is often the one caused by the people who just turn away when you identify what happened to you. The hurts that cut the deepest and last the longest often come from the people we thought we could trust, because they want you to just get over it, don't talk about it, admit it could have been worse, don't call it That.

The betrayal from people who are supposed to have your back? That deepens wounds, deepens trauma.

I won't be that person. I won't tell you to smile and turn the other cheek when someone shows you they hate you. Do whatever you need to do to survive--physically, emotionally, psychologically. Just don't give up, and don't let the cowards force you into feeling shame for not giving up and letting the world break you.

Never be ashamed to refuse to break.

Never let someone shame you for choosing strength. For drawing your line in the sand.

I wanted the "exciting" times of my life to be behind me. But they're not--so be it. I'm not going to tone myself down to be safer. I don't care about my own safety anymore. Any self-preservation drive broke a long time ago when it comes to homophobia. I promise to always be ready to fight. To be a queer menace to "polite" society. I promise to be out and loud and gay, to be a shield however I can for those who can't be out, who can't fight back, who can't even speak up because it wouldn't be safe for them to do so. They are valid, too. And I love them. And I will have their fucking backs. I promise to, in my real off-the-internet life, be someone who will always jump in and speak up if I see queer people being harassed or shamed--especially if they're young. I am older. I will fight for my baby gays. I will love them.

And I will never, never put anyone down for refusing to welcome Nazis into the bar. We don't look the other way and quietly tolerate them. Not here.

I may not be around much for the next few days. I need to handle my own shit. My own fury. My own grief. Because right now, there is so much grief.

But I won't be going anywhere.

I will fight to stay.

Whatever it takes.

I'm not giving up.

If I end up on my knees in the mud again, staring at my own blood and teeth, metaphorically or in fucking reality, so be it. I will get back up. And I will keep getting back up. I won't let go of the anger. The spite. And I definitely won't let go of my love for every queer person, the ones I know and the ones I don't, because that love is what will give me strength to get through this. Whatever comes next.

I may not have much sense of self-preservation. But goddamn, I will fight for you.

[kaisam]

Some wise words from Hank Green to listen to right now. From the We're Here newsletter.

Hank's election thoughts Hello, It’s a special edition of We’re Here. I’m trying to get my head on straight right now, which I’m sure is the case for you. I remember realizing after the assassination attempt that there was a rationality to my scrolling…I felt like my picture of the future was no longer relevant, and I desperately wanted to have my new one put in place. Of course, scrolling in the hours after a big event doesn’t tend to provide that relief, but it makes sense that I wouldn’t know what else to do. Today, I see people scrolling for similar reasons. Those of us who did not want a second Trump term (it’s a very large majority, but if that’s not you, I’m still glad you like the newsletter) are trying to figure out a bunch of things at the same time: How exactly did this happen? Who should we blame? (whether voters or strategy or candidate or party) What do we do now? I am not a political scientist, so I cannot answer those first two questions for you. I’m sure there will be plenty of interesting analysis coming out of all of the people who think about this stuff for a living and we will never know exactly who was right. But I do have a couple of suggestions for the third thing. First, I’d ask that we all accept that it is normal to mourn an imagined future. I have had this feeling many times in my life, and it is never nice. So, grieve. That is human. Second, do things. I don’t know what those things are, but do things. This morning Katherine said to me, “The trees and the sky and the squirrels and the stars just go on, and that’s what we’ll do.” This reminded me of this bit of an essay on living under the shadow of nuclear war written by C.S. Lewis: “If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs.” Obviously, Donald Trump is not an atomic bomb. Think whatever you will about him, but if “nuclear war now!” was the other candidate on the ballot, I would vote for Trump! But there is an analogy here. We are asked so often (especially by the internet) to shoulder every burden every day. Let me just say to you, that you do not need to shoulder every burden today. I think we will all be better served if today is for doing things that are close, things that we’ve gotta get done, things that bring joy, things that we care about. My answer to the question “What do we do now?” is simply “anything.” This is not the world I wanted to be in today, but it is not the end of America. Presidents are not dictators. There will be plenty of fights down the road, but some days you fight, and some days you live. I think there’s a pretty good chance that today is for living. We’re here because we’re here, Hank

[dufferpuffer]

~crawls out of my mud hole like a bunyip~ Delicious… food… Albus meta...

This is a cool comparison to make - because so much is the same, as OP said. + Albus is trying to keep them on his side. + Harry and Severus have both lost someone dear to them and are going through emotional breakdowns. + They both blame themselves for their losses and both wish for non-existence. + Albus stays carefully controlled while they rage and mourn. + He references 'The Best Of' Severus and Harrys 'Greatest Strength' as being the fact they care deeply.

But I think, with all those similarities... We can distinctly see how these two situations differ.

(Small thing: I don't think Albus suspected Tom was immortal until at LEAST scar-baby with no Voldy-coprse, so it hadn't been kept from Severus. But whatever.)

Make no mistake: Albus is a COLD man. Just about frozen over. + Partially intentional - a lifetime of keeping people away, not trusting anyone with his vulnerabilities. + Partially just… he's always been like that. An outcast, out of step with the rest of the world.

In that section with Severus: His high heel boot is pressing down on Snape's neck. + He explains the situation in short, harsh sentences. + He cuts Snape off. + Offers one way forward with absolutely no comfort, no time to breathe, no understanding or sympathy. + He meets his anguish with harsh, mocking cruelty. + The pace is fast, bouncing between them, barely any descriptive words for Albus' speech other than 'coldly' and 'sighed'.

The only softness, the only 'warmth', is in him saying: “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Even that is manipulative: Agreeing to be obedient is 'the best' of him. It's a joke, really, to call him lifting his boot from choking Severus 'warmth'...

Adding this from a little before - 'coz it's DELICIOUSLY savage:

“I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe…” “She and James put their faith in the wrong person,” said Dumbledore. “Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?” Snape’s breathing was shallow.

...Severus dares to suggest ANY of this guilt sits with Albus and gets his head bitten off for it. Albus shirks responsibility off his own shoulders, slides it onto Severus' by comparing him directly to the betrayer - and then slaps him in the face for being such a moron, hoping Voldemort of all people would do as he asked. Whoever betrayed Lily (Sirius) is nothing compared to him and his foolish folly.

It is VICIOUS how Albus stomps guilt down his throat.

… ... ...

For Harry's section, He is bellowing in anguish too. (More violently but that's not important.) Albus has locked him in his office. He is railroading Harry, giving him one way forward: listen to what he has to say. Be obedient.

But the way he goes about this is so utterly different: (I'm including things omitted from the above point for its brevity - same chapter.)

‘I DON’T CARE!’ Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. ‘I’VE HAD ENOUGH, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON’T CARE ANY MORE -‘ He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions. ‘You do care,’ said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. ‘You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.’ ‘I - DON’T!’ Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself. ‘Oh, yes, you do,’ said Dumbledore, still more calmly. ‘You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care.’ ‘YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL!’ Harry roared. ‘YOU- STANDING THERE- YOU-‘ But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it. But the door would not open. Harry turned back to Dumbledore. ‘Let me out,’ he said. He was shaking from head to foot. ‘No,’ said Dumbledore simply. For a few seconds they stared at each other. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said again. ‘No,’ Dumbledore repeated. ‘If you don’t - if you keep me in here - if you don’t let me -‘ ‘By all means continue destroying my possessions,’ said Dumbledore serenely. ‘I daresay I have too many.’ He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry. ‘Let me out,’ Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. ‘Not until I have had my say,’ said Dumbledore.

Albus is unflinching, detached. Harry hates how calm he is, he wants to break how calm he is, make him openly feel something for once. Albus is infuriatingly serene, saying things simply, sitting down… encouraging Harry's outburst of emotion. It is Harry that speaks coldly this time - forcing his anguish to be calm and savage rather than hot and roaring.

That is already hugely different from when he spoke to Severus - where he cut him off and mocked him. 'Is this remorse? What use is that to anyone?'

Rather than telling Harry his pain is useless he sympathizes. Deeply. With intricate detail: He knows how it feels to lose your father, mother and close family: It is 'as if you will bleed to death with the pain'. He could have brought up his own experiences up - to try and prove that he does know, that he and Harry are the same in this. But he doesn't. What use would his remorse be? To try and gain sympathy, a defense of himself, at this moment of horror would be grotesquely selfish. He isn't here to defend himself.

‘Do you - do you think I want to - do you think I give a - I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE GOT TO SAY!’ Harry roared. ‘I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!’ ‘You will,’ said Dumbledore steadily. ‘Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it.’ ‘What are you talking -?’ ‘It is my fault that Sirius died,’ said Dumbledore clearly. ‘Or should I say, almost entirely my fault - I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone.’ Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing. ‘Please sit down,’ said Dumbledore. It was not an order, it was a request.

With Severus - Albus took any guilt off his own shoulders and saddled Severus with it. Used it to pressure him. He does the EXACT opposite here. Everything is put on his own shoulders and the little bit that isn't he frames as a compliment to Sirius' character - not a failing.

+ He guilt-tripped and demanded Severus pay his debt to Lily. He gave him no choice. Severus' obedience would be his best quality. + He requests Harry to sit down and listen while he gives him the truth. Explains his own guilt. Not for sympathy, but because Harry is owed the truth. 'If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been…'

Albus is not an open man. he is secretive, distant, cold. But he isn't doing that here. For pages and pages he answers Harry's questions in such detail... I doubt he has told anyone else such a complete account. He likes to keep the whole picture to himself having been bitten by betrayals before… But he tells Harry so much. He answers his yelled, spat and snarled questions calmly - never once 'coldly'.

…And it gets to him. It cracks his calm, unflinching persona. A man who does things 'for the greater good', keeping himself detached from wild emotions to stand steady, act with cold logic:

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him. On the contrary, he felt even angrier that Dumbledore was showing signs of weakness. He had no business being weak when Harry wanted to rage and storm at him. Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses. ‘It is time,’ he said, ‘for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me - to do whatever you like - when I have finished. I will not stop you.’ [...] ‘Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine,’ said Dumbledore. ��An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort.’ […] ‘Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid.’ ‘I don’t -‘ ‘I cared about you too much,’ said Dumbledore simply. ‘I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. […] Harry looked up at him and saw a tear trickling down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard.

...It is all so out of character for Albus to speak like this. To spend pages not just explaining events and other peoples perspectives - but his own personal thought processes, his own emotions, his own failings and his own plans.

Maybe it's all a manipulative act. He's leaking crocodile tears with big puppy eyes to win Harry's favor, giving him what he wants - knowledge and support - to lure him back to obedience... But that is the exact opposite to how we normally see him manipulate people.

+ Twinkling eyes and small smiles, light silly humor + Mixing making himself seem impressive with self-effacing. + Staying calm and unaffected, as if lightly humored. + Gently pointing people in the direction he wants them to think rather than giving answers outright, risking leaking how he feels and what he knows. (as even seen in the very first chapter of the first book). + A judging use of "So you would even feel X…?", bringing up the concept of 'X' as if he may disagree - but leaving himself free to swing positive or negative, or stay vague. When tensions get higher: + His calm freezing over, becoming cold. + Speech snappy and harsh, insulting and belittling. + Dominating demands, controlling the conversation. + Never revealing more information than is strictly necessary. + Withholding information, even when cruel to do so. + Acting innocent while twisting events to favor him.

He isn't doing ANY of that in this chapter with Harry. And when he does almost, just a little, like the multiple probings of 'do you see now where my plan failed…?' - trying to avoid having to rip himself open and admit his feelings… he does so anyway. Not vague, not tip-toeing: he bites the bullet. He stays calm, yes - but is not unaffected. He cries. He shows weakness Harry has never seen before.

It's not just a one-and-done moment either - from this point on he includes Harry in so much of HBP. He takes him from the Dursleys mere days into Summer (after Harry tells him off here for keeping him 'trapped' like Sirius) and gets his aid in things he tells nobody else about (after saying here how he should have been including him more, like Harry wanted, rather than pushing him away for 'his own safety' when he will be in danger no matter what.) Albus heeds Harry's pain and works to do better. He changes.

He is not as cold and manipulative here as he was to Snape.

Dumbledore's Manipulations: Part 6(?)

I just reread the scene in Deathly Hallows of Dumbledore and Snape on Snape's memories after Lily died, and that entire scene reminded me of the scene at the end of book 5. After Sirius died and Harry was having his breakdown.

Snape breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?” “DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone. . . dead. . . ” “Is this remorse, Severus?” “I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ” “And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.” Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him. “What—what do you mean?” “You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.” “He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—” “The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.” There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last, he said, “Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!” “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist. . . ”

(DH, 573)

Harry breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Sirius dies:

“There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,” said Dumbledore’s voice. “On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.” Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words. “My greatest strength, is it?” said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue. . . . You don’t know . . .” “What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly. It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage. “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?” “Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —” “THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!” [...] “Let me out,” Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. “Not until I have had my say,” said Dumbledore. [...] “It meant,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.” Harry felt as though something was closing in upon him. His breathing seemed difficult again. “It means — me?” [...] “I am afraid,” said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, “that there is no doubt that it is you.”

(OotP, 823)

I just, found these two scenes awfully similar in tone when reading the one in Deathly Hallows last night.

In both Snape/Harry are in emotional turmoil after the most important person to them dies. Both feel like dying (Snape: "I wish I were dead", Hary: "then I don't want to be human"). Both shout at Dumbledore when he speaks all too calmly of things they don't want/need to hear at that moment.

And Dumbledore speaks calmly and coldly to both of them, revealing information he hid from them both (to Snape he tells about Voldemort's immortality, to Harry he tells about the Prophecy) before guilting them through their grief into what he needs them to do.

Now, I'm not exactly blaming him, because, from his position, he needs Snape as a spy and he needs Harry to be willing to do anything to kill Voldemort — to take Voldemort as his responsibility. Dumbledore needs these things to happen to have the best chance of completing his plan to defeat Voldemort.

I just, can't help but note how cold it is. How cold and manipulative Dumbledore can be when he feels he needs to be. Even as he explains his care for Harry as a flaw in his plan, he speaks calmly and simply. And he is right caring about Harry is a flaw, because he always planned for Harry to die. He knew since he saw the scar on Harry's forehead:

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”

(OotP, 826)

And even if I think Dumbledore is honest in that he'd rather Harry wouldn't die, I don't think he cares for him as much as he says he does. In the same way, he's very cold towards Snape even years later when he tells him Harry must die. (I don't think Snape and Dumbledore are actually friends)

Idk, I just read the scene in DH with Snape and it really reminded me of the scene with Harry at the end of OotP.

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 4/5 (master list)

“Buck?” Eddie called out to a very distracted Buck. “Something wrong? You’ve been looking at your phone all night.”

“I-I’m always on my phone.” Buck nervously laughed.

“Sometimes…” Eddie nodded. “But not this much. Did you find a substack or something?”

“Uh…yeah.” Buck lied. “Just doing some deep diving.”

Eddie snickered in response, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”

Actually, Buck was checking his phone waiting to hear from Tommy about his date.

As the night went on and it was nearly midnight, Buck assumed the date went really well and Tommy took this mystery person home, or vice versa.

The following morning, Buck didn’t bother to text Tommy and told himself he’s probably sleeping in or spending time with his date.

When Tommy finally texted back, Buck unlocked his phone within seconds, eager to read the text.

He…? Not that Tommy needed to come out to Buck, because Buck’s cool. Totally cool. He’s an ally. He has queer friends. It shouldn’t even be a big deal that Tommy’s revealing this information to him.

Oh God I hope that didn’t sound too forward.

Tommy took Buck to a taco bar and Buck asked about his date, trying not to sound like he was prying for information.

Tommy’s responses were brief and vague.

Guy’s name is Edgar. He’s 42. Works in accounting. Loves the outdoors and mountain biking.

He sounds boring. Buck thought. But he liked all the stuff Tommy liked. He was even a trained pilot and he knew some Muay Thai.

Maybe he’s more interesting than me. Buck negatively thought.

“S-so you guys are gonna go hiking?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of taking him up the trail we went to. I know it pretty well and it seems like a great spot to go.”

Buck felt like his heart exploded in his chest. He felt like his soul was going to leave his body. Even death would have been kinder than this. “O-oh yeah? That’s cool. He’ll love it.” Buck forced out with a fake smile.

Tommy nodded. “Hope so.”

“Yeah, it’ll be pretty romantic. Especially if you end your hike by the picnic area an hour before sunset, when the sun is low and it creates this nice warm light. They-they call it the golden hour because the sun, it—it’s golden with a warm, reddish—“ Buck laughed to himself. “Sorry I know it’s your date, I-I was just—“

Tommy shot buck a fond smile. “I think that might be a little too romantic for a second date. We’re still getting to know each other.”

“Oh—ah—yeah. Y-you’re right.” Buck nervously chuckled. “I guess so.”

Sure, it was just the very beginning of their dating stage, but it felt like the end of the world for Buck, and he just couldn’t figure out why.

But boy, did it hurt like hell.

A week later, Buck found himself complaining to Eddie and Maddie in a separate group chat he’d created for just the three of them.

Buck realized he was starting to sound a bit insane and deleted the entire message.

He didn't want to say that either. He didn't agree with Maddie. She wasn't wrong, she just didn't understand the sort of...friendship they had.

Buck glared at his barrages of texts, hoping he didn’t sound too eager or too annoying.

Buck put on one of his best shirts and threw on his apron and immediately started prepping for dinner. He was so excited to finally see Tommy again and cheer him up that he couldn’t stop smiling.

He rented Love, Actually to stream, curated a playlist of some of Tommy’s favorite songs, and even mixed up some boxed cake mix.

He didn’t have any frosting, so he hoped strawberry preserves would do.

He wanted this evening to be perfect for Tommy, so he could forget all about the cheating bastard that wasted his time and possibly broke his heart.

The thought of Tommy having a broken heart nearly shattered his own. He needed to fix it. He needed to let him know that he would always be there for Tommy, like Tommy was there for him.

Buck texted Tommy to let him know the door was unlocked for him.

Tommy welcomed himself into Buck’s apartment. Buck looked up from the counter, a wide ecstatic smile painted on his face.

“Smells amazing in here.”

“I hope so. I’m just throwing a few things together. It won’t be perfect but—“

“It’ll be perfect. It was more than I could’ve asked for. Thank you for all of this.”

Tommy’s eyes fell onto the cake on the counter. “You even baked a cake?”

“Uh yeah, but I don’t have any frosting. I hope strawberry preserves are—“

Buck glanced over at Tommy as he was helping himself to a slice of cake, slathering the strawberry preserves on top.

Tommy shoved a generous helping into his mouth, glancing up at Buck with wide eyes. “Sorry. Did you want me to wait until after dinner?”

Buck laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Whatever you want.”

“It’s good cake.”

“It’s just from a box. I adjusted the recipe a little bit to make the cake more moist and flavorful—“

“It worked. This is delicious.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

They sat down and ate dinner, laughed and caught up on daily life outside of Gerrard and definitely outside of Edgar.

They watched Love, Actually and finished off the night with some beers.

“You’re right, Tommy. This is some really good beer.”

“Mhm. I told you.” Tommy paused to finish his beer. “Thank you again, Evan. Tonight was…really fun.” He smiled. “Really helped take my mind off—“

“You don’t have to think about him, Tommy. I’m here for you. You don’t have to feel alone.” Buck realized how strange his statement may have sounded. “You’ve also got all our friends at the 118 too.”

Tommy nodded with a small smirk. “I know.”

There was something odd about the sound of Tommy’s voice. Perhaps he was looking for something more. Something Buck just couldn’t give him.

But Buck, somehow, still wished he could give him everything.

[maybejj]

Just a little blurb of what I’ve been writing! Let me know what you think and if I should write more ☺️

Au baby daddy!Rafe w sweetheart!reader

Warnings: drugs, angst?, swearing

“Mommy look at my tractor!” You hear your 3 year old son call to you from the other side of the room. You were distracting yourself from the fact Rafe was coming over to pick up Asher, the son you shared.

You turn towards him and gently smile. Asher was a spitting image of his dad. The only thing he inherited from you were your green eyes, everything else was all his father. The dimples, the blonde hair, the little smirk he got on his face right before he was about to do something he shouldn’t, his attitude. God, it was all Rafe. It use to make you emotional after you and Rafe broke it off but you’ve had time to move on.

“I see your tractor baby. It’s your favorite color.” You grinned at him and he returned it with his own goofy grin. Everything you did these days was to provide for your son. Making sure he had the best of the best and Rafe made sure of it as well. Your relationship with Rafe may have ended but you two try to put your differences aside to take care of Asher.

You and Rafe got together when you were 17. High school sweethearts, the power couple, the relationship everyone envied in high school. You were great together in high school. You were the couple that loved public displays of affection, always all over each other no matter the setting. Rafe was always so attentive to you, always so sweet and caring. You listened to him and helped him express his emotions and feelings, especially when it came to his dad. There was never any arguing. Disagreements were common in any relationship and you definitely had those but you never yelled at each other. You would work through any problems calmly to come to a solution. College was a different story.

You both went to UNC Chapel Hill and the first three months were unreal. The freedom of moving away from Kildare felt so good. You had your own dorm room, as did Rafe. You were both freshman at the time so your plans to have an apartment together was ruined by the college rules but you still made time for each other. Rafe was studying business, you were studying art. You thought you had the world at your fingertips. That was, until Rafe got into a fraternity. It didn’t take long at all until you noticed the shift in him. The staying out later than normal, lying to you about where he was, going to parties every night, ditching plans with you more often than not. When he did make time to come to your dorm to say sorry for the night before, he smelled like liquor and his eyes were red around the edges. He constantly rubbed his index finger under his nose, almost rubbed raw. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he spoke to you.

You weren’t stupid, you knew he was getting into stuff he shouldn’t and you told him as such. He immediately would blow up on you saying it was none of your business. It was a never ending cycle that went on for months. One night it become too much when you found two bags of Coke in his truck glove box.

You had just sat down in Rafe’s passenger side of his truck, waiting for him to get in the drivers side. You were out at a dinner with his fraternity brothers that got out of hand as soon as you got there. You were just glad it was over, breathing a sigh of relief for the first moment of peace of the night. You were starting to get a headache the longer you sat there. You rubbed your fingers against your temples and dug through your purse to find some medicine. You came up empty and glanced up from your lap, seeing Rafes glove box in front of you. You opened it and immediately forgot about your headache, seeing two clear bags of a white substance staring back at you.

The driver side door opened suddenly but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. You knew he had been doing drugs but he had told you a month ago that he was quitting after you broke down and threatened to leave him. He had lied to you. You believed him and he took advantage of that. He lied to your face just to get you to stay with him.

“You ready to go baby?”

[darknessisafriend]

Arthur who?

Finally posting this short comforting piece about our Artie! enjoy everyone :)

Arthur comes back home, and he doesn’t feel good.

You were reading a book on the sofa, curled up under a blanket to warm you until Arthur would come back and let you snuggle against him, playing with your hair as he listened to your reading. Your attention was soon pulled away from your book as you recognized the familiar footsteps of Arthur on the wooden stairs. Although they sounded heavier, more tired than usual.

Your suspicions were revealed to be true when his steps stopped at the door, a silent pause which made you put your book aside and stand up, almost rushing to the door, had he forgotten his keys? Did something worse happen? You put your hand on the door handle, about to open when his voice stopped you in your movement.

“Knock, knock…” he said, his voice barely hearable from the other side.

“Who’s there?” you replied, ready to listen, feeling his upset, his sadness. Whatever happened outside, it seemed to have deeply affected him.

“Arthur Fleck...”

“Arthur Fleck who…?” you asked, the frown deepening on your face until realization hit you, Arthur had gone silent, not replying, this was his joke…he was the joke. Your eyes filled with tears, and you instantly opened the door, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His arms remained limp on his sides, he swallowed down, his whole-body trembling in pain, distress, exhaustion. He let his head fall on your shoulder, burying it in the crook of your neck as you pulled him inside, closing the door to shelter him from the world.

You made him sit on the sofa while keeping your arms around him, you didn’t speak at first. Your left hand rubbing his back while the other caressed the back of his head soothingly.

“Why are you here? What makes you stay with a loser like me…” he muttered against your shoulder, his voice shaking as if his words could make you leave him.

“Arthur…what happened? You know you can talk to me.” You reassured him, kissing his temple tenderly, hating to hear he thought so low of himself. You felt a tear of his fall on your collarbone, he sniffled and chuckled at the same time.

“Someone recognized me on the streets today…they said…Hey Joker…when are you going to blow up the mayor? I said I don’t want to do that…they replied ‘you’re such a disappointment... go fuck yourself’…” he explained, each word was painful, he was struggling against his disability, struggling to breathe between giggles. And Arthur had believed that person. Arthur thought himself nothing, a fleck of dust bothering the world.

You pinched your lips together; you knew how much it weighed on him since he had managed to get out of Arkham. “You are Arthur Fleck. And you have no idea how much those two words mean to me.” You spoke, gently cupping his face to try to make him look at you in the eyes. “Arthur I won’t have the pretention of telling you who you are or who you should be. But what I am certain about is: how important you are to my eyes.” You smiled, a tear rolling down your cheek. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth, starting to sing, quietly, a song that reminded you of Arthur, when you met him the first time, how your world collapsed to create a new one, one with Artie.

“There was a boy…A very strange, enchanted boy…They say he wandered very far…Very far, Over land and sea…” you had always found Arthur strange, but as you liked to say, most interesting people are. He was even magical to your eyes, that boy who lived in his fantasies, strong imagination, passionate by music and dance, loving to make children smile, a romantic man gifting flower.

“A little shy…And sad of eye…But very wise was he...” people said he was in his world, a child man with a low IQ, those people obviously didn’t know him. He was an adult man, not afraid to regress to relax, to cry in front of a movie, to be vulnerable in front of others. He didn’t need anyone to infantilize him, he was more than aware of his situation, the problems he had, and all he had ever wanted was help to get through them.              

“And then one day…One magic day he passed my way…And while we spoke of many things…Fools and kings…This he said to me…The greatest thing...You'll ever learn…Is just to love…And be loved in return…” you sang a last time; this time he lifted his eyes to meet yours, his brows furrowing into a feeling of fondness, he loved when you sang, and that song from one of his favorite singers took a meaning it never had before. He let out a soft natural laugh.

“Am I that boy? Really?” he asked shyly, flattered, his hands finding yours, entwinning your fingers with his.

“To me you are Arthur. You are not a symbol, or a myth. You are my lover, and with that chance of being so close to you, I got to know you, I love who you are. No need to define it further than that.” You smiled, bringing your entwinned fingers to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“Right…I am who I am, I know who I am, you see who I am…and that’s enough.” He replied softly, a smile settling on his lips, his eyes shining as he looked at you devotedly. He didn’t have to care about what others said he was, nor did they have the right to judge him because he wasn’t what they wanted him to be.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @thatdummy-girl​r @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @call-me-harley-quinn @cigznvalentines @help-i-am-obssessed @arthurfleckjoker2019 @theartistdetective @jaylovesbats @niniitah-ah @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend @fleckcmscott @obssessedandthirsty @weirdflecksbutok @ajokeformurray

[cosmicjoke]

I wanted to add on to my initial answer to the anon ask I just got about Isayama confirming that the Ackermans lost their powers with the end of the titan curse.

I was talking to a mutual recently about this, and they said something that I think is so true, that it's actually such a positive, that Levi no longer has his Ackerman powers, because in truth, his strength was always such a burden to him. I think there was a lot of pain and a sense of guilt and failure in Levi that was rooted in his strength, for the fact that, despite it, he still lost so many people he loved. I think Levi must have often felt like he either wasn't using his strength well enough, or that he simply wasn't strong enough, for it to make a difference. Again, the reason Levi felt so compelled to use his strength to help others in the first place wasn't because of the strength itself, but because of his innate compassion and empathy. This mutual of mine also said that the ways in which Levi is able to help now, like handing out candy to children and planting trees, etc... is better for him, because it's more reflective of who he actually is inside, and that also is so true.

I've long maintained that Levi was never naturally inclined toward violence. I think Isayama intentionally contrasted Levi's story in "Bad Boy", the story of how his Ackerman powers awakened, with the panels of Eren killing Mikasa's kidnappers. Eren was always naturally inclined toward violence, and that's reflected in how really effortlessly he instigates and attacks Mikasa's kidnappers, how he had such a well-thought-out plan going in of how to kill them, etc... When you contrast that with Levi and his "plan" to retrieve his mother's tea set, it's really stark, because Levi went in without any sort of idea of how to fight back, of how to retrieve his mother's tea set, and when he was attacked, he didn't even fight back until they started insulting his mother, and even then, his initial attempts were totally ineffectual.

Levi was never a violent person, or someone who reveled in violence. He was only forced into becoming violent because of the desperate circumstances of his life. And that really highlights the tragedy of Levi being made into a human weapon, even if it was for a good cause. His Ackerman powers put him in a position that went against his very nature, in my view, for how they forged him into a living weapon. Because he felt he had to use them to help people, and the most effective way to do so with his strength was through physical brutality. But that was never who Levi was or is. He's a kind and compassionate man who cares deeply for other people. I think, deep down, Levi has always been a gentle person.

And that also brings up another point which I've argued again and again. We aren't meant to morally condemn Levi for being violent, we're meant to morally condemn the circumstances and the injustices of the world that forced Levi and every other character in the story into such extremes. When I see people accusing Levi of being "morally grey" or "morally wrong" for killing, it makes me want to rip my hair out. It absolutely destroys me that these people don't see the actual cruelty of judging and condemning someone for failing to be a pacifist when pacifism would get either them or other people killed. That they miss this crucially important distinction in AoT destroys me, too. AoT was never telling its audience that the people committing acts of violence should be condemned or judged for it. It was telling its audience that the unfair and unjust circumstances that pushed them into a corner and left them with no choice but to be violent is what we should be condemning. And I think no other character better demonstrates the tragedy of that than Levi, again, for how the cruelty and unfairness of his life forced him into becoming something he never was.

So, yeah, in many ways, Levi losing his strength is a blessing, because it allows him to be who he really is. His strength only ever forced him into embodying this role that wasn't reflective of his true nature. A "lunatic that kills people", as he said. Who Levi really is, is the man we see at the end of the anime, handing out candy to children. The same as in the many moments throughout the story that show Levi's great compassion, like him giving Petra's patch to Ivan, him comforting a dying soldier, him helping Historia to bring the orphans from Underground to the surface, him saving Ramzi, etc, etc...

[inactivewattpadauthor]

Fujin x Nurse Reader: Neonatal

Context: Fujin, a guest at a pregnant Sonya and Johnny's hospital room, meets a nurse who works on the exact floor.

(Yes, ik he could've possibly been in the void in canon while Sonya was preggers)

Warning: Angst(?) I don't want to spoil my own one shot lol ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dim white lights flickered as Fujin slowly walked around the room his mortal friends were in.

Sonya Blade is finally due to birthing her first newborn. He felt honored to be invited to visit her and the soon to be father, Johnny Cage, but he felt he had no place in the room while she's in labor.

Not because the blond woman seemed snarkier than usual, specifically at Cage, but really, why should he be there? It wasn't his child being borne.

So, feeling slightly downed, the friendly wind god decided its best he waits out their door. Fujin would be happy to go back in after the child comes into the world.

The pretty silver haired male's boots echoed a slow rhythm down the halls. He really should be happy for them. He is happy for them. But also... he feels sad.

Children were a blessing to have. Little bundles of endless joy. A joy he will never know. And as much as he doesn't like to think, he's envious of the two involved mortals.

Fujin stops in his tracks. He's probably walking a little too far from the room. And he'd rather not cause any alarm to anyone, to whomever catches him in this silent, maybe soothing liminal space of a hall.

The shine of the lights reflected off the light blue tiles. When Fujin turns back, he notices his reflection in the window. However, his quite admirable appearance isn't what he focused on.

Through the window, he saw a tiny little human bundled in a blanket!

The demigod steps closer to the window. The baby was clearly asleep comfortably. So small. So adorable!

Fujin notices more cribs with more babies nesting in each one. Do they all come here soon after they enter the world?

Fujin looked back at the one closest. Placing a hand on the window, he fantasized the newborn as his very own. He wishes he could cradle them. Wish to hold them and keep them safe.

All he could do was smile at the sleepy bean. "I know you'll grow into something great, little one." He whispers.

Silence rose in the ambiance more. Fujin hadn't walked back to the room. All he just wanted to do was stay put and observe the many new babies.

Though it seemed all were asleep, doing literally nothing but breathing correctly,  they make Fujin happy.

"Which one is yours?" A sudden voice spoke up behind and Fujin flinches up.

Just out of nowhere, a nurse comes up on him. A neat smile on her face, not covered my the mask resting on her chin. H/c slightly shown beneath the blue cap.

No footsteps or anything. Not that the Lord noticed.

"O-Ohh... Pardon me. None of these are mine." Fujin informs the lady. "I just wanted to watch them."

From your perspective, you watched this man stand here for nearly twenty minutes, looking at the children. It's quite late. Maybe 2 am. He looks troubled.

"Ah. Are you a visitor?"

Fujin nods quietly before looking back at the window. "My friends are about to have their first child. I thought it would be more appropriate to be at a distance."

You walk to his side and also observe the youngings. "I hear you. Do you have your own?"

"Truly, I wish I could." You could hear the sadness in his tone. The silent assumption you made was based on appearance. He's not a normal human, obviously. You didn't mind!

Earthrealm has crazy things. Maybe he has really important things to tend to than to get settled!

"I hear you. I wish I had mine." You tell him with the same smile.

Your words didn't quite make sense to him. Looking at you, he questions with the need of elaboration, "I'm sorry?"

It's quite a private story indeed, but you don't care. Everything eventually worked out for you.

"I got to hold my baby girl for five months."

His glowing eyes widened at what you were telling him, then sympathy was given off. "I'm sorry you had to endure such an experience. I can only imagine what many pains came with that."

"No need to be sorry for me. Yeah, it drastically changed me, but I'm happy to work here. Like you, I wish I could have my own; but I'm happy to help parents nurture their newborn infants."

Fujin smiles softly at such optimism. "That's a very graceful thought."

"Thank you. I always try."

Muffled crying took both of your attentions. A baby in the row nearest to the window has woken up. Their wails are definitely louder in the room.

"What's wrong with that one?" Fujin asks with concern.

"Could be it's not used to being out the womb. Or just hungry." You casually say.

Patting his shoulder softly, you start to move on now. You're still on the clock. "I best get back to work now. I'm pretty sure I'm the only free one on the unit."

"Very well, I admired speaking with you."

Before Fujin walks back to Sonya and Cage's delivery room, he watches you work gently with the infants.

Your endurance inspires him.

*Boooonnnnussss æeugh*

Fujin was still seated outside the room before he abruptly heard a loud scream, muffled by the walls.

His heart skipped a beat. Should he go in there to check up on all of them? Make sure Blade is okay. She's a string woman, but Fujin doesn't mind at all if he needs to use his God powers to heal.

Opening the door, was the actor walking out in tears. Fujin looks at him, concerned.

"She broke my hand!" Johnny's voice shakes as he showed off the impressively swollen hand.... that was him yelling??

Fujin just looks even more worried as Cage ran off to get his broken hand treated. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fujin would casually stare at newborns and be very fond.

I'd give him a kid fr😔

[reiteka]

Denial

I don't really do this but since I was forced to get tumblr I figured I may as well put this up here. Just a Human Alastor x Reader type thing. Murder involved, marriage of convenience, female reader, passive? reader (it's mainly Alastor's thoughts so reader doesn't do much in the fic). --- means insert whatever name you want. I haven't proofread this in a long time so expect mistakes. This is 1 of 2 Alastor X Reader fics I've done so let me know if anyone wants the other one (Also never posted on tumblr before and don't know how it works).

...

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

Being best friends since they were young girls, Alastor and ___ mothers had treated one another like sisters, spending all their time together and even giving birth within the same year to their respective children. How ecstatic they were when one had a boy and the other a girl, how darling it would be if the two would conform to the classic romantic trope of developing from childhood friends to star-crossed sweethearts. Fortunately, for their mothers, they did marry but not due to their fondness of each other. Alastor and ___ didn’t love each other, but they didn’t hate each other either. They married to not only make their mothers happy but also out of convenience, to cease the unwanted advances of the opposite sex and to silence the needless prattling of others with their incessant questions or assertions of ‘when are you getting married?’ or ‘still single at your age?’ or the most repulsive of all ‘your biological clock is ticking dear’.

Though they were married, and to the outside world a happy couple, they lived as strangers. They shared one roof but slept in separate beds, in separate rooms, at separate ends of the house. They had dinner together, engaged in conversation about how her day was or how his radio show was faring or about the recent killings and disappearances taking place. And although they generally enjoyed the other’s company, there was an undeniable line that would never be crossed, an unspoken agreement that they would only ever be acquaintances and never entertain the thought of giving into the charade they had concocted to fool their family and friends. Alastor respected such an agreement and in no way did he want it to change.

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

So, when he met the young lad from the bookshop, he didn’t feel anything towards the boy. He didn’t flinch when the blonde’s demeanor brightened like a mutt whose owner had returned home to play with him. He didn’t stiffen at the genuine smile that slipped easily onto his wife’s face when greeting the boy manning the counter, a smile he had spent hours rambling out perfected jokes in an attempt to receive a mere glimpse of, to spy the miniscule curling of her lips, given to him not out of politeness but out of genuine joy.

‘A pleasure to be meeting you my good man! The name is Alastor, yes the one from the radio show. Many thanks for always assisting my lovely wife here in her literary endeavours.’ When he wrapped an arm around her waist and introduced himself, it was because of his duty to fulfill his responsibilities as her husband, not because he enjoyed the look of shock and heartbreak creeping onto the boy’s visage. He took no satisfaction in the way the boy withered under his stare as if shrinking in on himself, both from Alastor’s intimidating aura and his place at the woman’s side.

He didn’t follow his wife around the shop to dissuade the boy from talking to her, he was just interested in finding out what books his wife was currently reading. And yes, his smile did seem rather strained and his eyes quite murderous when the boy happened to glance over in their direction, but it was not an intended hostility, the boy was simply paranoid and misconstrued the polite and friendly stare Alastor was directing at him. He didn’t try and pry information out of his wife later at dinner because he felt threatened in any way, because he didn’t like the way she giggled when the boy made a feeble attempt at an ill-advised pun. He just wanted to know who he was and how often she talked to him and what she thoug̸h̴t̷ ̶o̷f̴ ̸h̸i̵m̴ a̴n̴d̸ ̵i̸f̷ ̸s̶h̵e̷ ̵t̵h̷o̵u̸g̸h̶t̵ ̵h̵e̸ ̴w̸a̸s̸ ̸c̸u̸t̷e̴ ̴̞̍͌͝͝ö̸̩́ŗ̵̟̾͐́̂ ̷͉͙͑h̵̛̘̹̬͑͊̔̎̂a̴͉̥̓n̴̝̯̬̿̋͑d̸̲̱̬͎͉̀̋̈̎̆ş̷̺͙̺͗̀̈̃̄ͅo̶̖̮͐̽̐̑̆̍m̴͖͕̼͈͋̓͗̒ḙ̴͂ ̸̣̙̂o̵̳͗͛̆͗̋ṛ̸͉̯͑͗͐ ̵̭̳̭͕͇͑̇f̸̻̺͙̰̐ű̵̧̫͎̜̥̹̈́ṋ̶̮̀n̶̞̞̐̋̈͐͠ỉ̶͔̦̝͎̱̬̋̽̄͐͠ȩ̷̘̫̩͖͂̇r̷͎̤̒͐ ̴̫̯̺̮̄̈́͘̚o̷͖͙͓͗̅͐̂̕̚ṙ̴̻͓̼.̸̡̞̇.̶̦̇̇̃́͑

He was just curious, and his distaste for the boy had nothing to do with the blush that coated his wife’s face when the boy gave her a forlorn goodbye and wished her the most pleasant evening in the world. As if her evening wasn’t already perfect with Alastor by her side!

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

He was just tired of the bakery he frequented when his show ended or when he took one of his infamously rare lunch breaks. It just so happened that the new café that had taken his fancy was coincidently located across from the same bookshop where his wife would make a near-daily trip to with the goal of perusing their rather limited stock. His face never darkened, his smile never turned sinister because of jealousy or some other Neanderthalic emotion when he witnessed their interactions, he simply found it disgraceful how shamelessly the boy acted towards a married woman. He didn’t absolutely loathe the fact that his wife was giving attention to someone other than himself, someone completely undeserving of such an affectionate gaze and her indulgence of idle, mindless chatter. Of course, it wasn't her fault, she had always been oblivious to the advances of others who sought to captivate her with tainted promises of friendship while hiding their heinous desires for more intimate relations. It was his job really, as her husband to remove such scum from her periphery, to exterminate the uncultured and salacious boy that couldn’t understand nor respect the simple fact that should have been glaringly obvious by now: ___ belonged to Alastor.

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

He was simply looking for another meal that catered to his...unique palate. It was pure coincidence that he happened past the bookshop which was known for staying open late into the night. It was a coincidence that the boy happened to be closing up, that Alastor happened to be late in finishing up his show that night and that it just happened that not a soul occupied the usually bustling street. It wasn’t that Alastor wanted to prolong the boy’s suffering. Sure, he may have offered the boy several choices ranging from never talking to his wife again to leaving Louisiana altogether, despite knowing that no matter what option the boy chose Alastor was going to kill him regardless. And he may have let the boy run from him for five minutes before he got bored and knocked him to the ground, even though he could have caught up with him in a manner of mere seconds. And he may have allowed the boy a few curtesy blows before easily and pitifully overpowering him, taking no small amount of pleasure in how the hope that still lingered in the lad’s eyes seemed to diminish with the knowledge that the tall, lanky radio host was deceitfully stronger than he appeared. Yes, he did make the boy’s death as slow as possible, letting him bleed out rather than killing him straight away, mocking him the entire time, ingraining the fact that the boy had brought this fate upon himself for daring to covert what was Alastor’s. And he did inevitably choose to dispose of the body rather than contaminate himself with such an unappetizing individual, making it so that the only ones to see the boy again would be the maggots that made him their home. But it had nothing to do with ___.

With a lighter step, a jauntily whistled tune, and the sequel to his wife’s favourite novel tucked under his arm, Alastor made his way home, thoughts of how he could convince his wife to let him purchase her books so that she needn’t bother herself with leaving the house at the forefront of his mind.

Alastor didn’t love his wife...

But that didn’t mean someone else was allowed to love her either.