#and subsequently manipulated and edited

[nerdherderette]

The Inheritance

Derek Hale, the Viscount Hemming and only son of the Third Earl of Beacon, was London's most notorious rake. His disinclination to appear with the same partner at social events was well-known; his discountenance to wed, even more so. Which is why no one was more surprised than Stiles when the dashing viscount—and Stiles' once childhood friend—presented him with a proposal he couldn't refuse.

[excerpt]: "Is Graceview Hall your only responsibility? What about love? Your family?" Derek jerked back in shock. She, of all people, knew what happened when he last fell in love. "You are four and twenty," Lady Belmont continued. "You cannot remain on your current path, carousing and bedding anyone who catches your eye. Why, even Lord Deucalion wed this past summer, and he was a reprobate of the first order." Derek may have owed his great-aunt what little remained of his dignity. This, however, was asking too much. "I will never enter the marriage mart," he swore.

For the amazing (and incredibly patient) @elisela, who challenged me with several things:

1. To write a historical romance

2. Make it a Sterek arranged marriage

3. Sprinkle in a bit of Marrish

4. And make it Friends-to-Lovers

I cut my teeth on Harlequin romances and this is an utterly self-indulgent homage to the genre. While it took me several outlines (and as many discarded drafts) to figure out how to make a friends-to-lovers scenario work, I finally came up with a story I'm excited to share! Thank you, elisela, for generously donating to FTH and for giving me something so amazing to work with!😘

Part of @fandomtrumpshate 2023. Posting on AO3

Please note: The image used to create the book cover is based on an AI generated image that was subsequently manipulated and then edited to make the cover. It's described in the tags but may be missed, and I don't want people to mistakenly reblog who didn't see the tags and who don't want any AI on their blogs

[thedensworld]

On Scene | Yoon Jeonghan

Pairing: Detective!Jeonghan x Writer!reader (ft. Junior Detective!Soonyoung)

Genre: Action, Crime, Comedy, Angst, Romance

Synopsis: Yoon Jeonghan, once a dedicated police officer, finds himself embroiled in a web of corruption and is subsequently transferred to a unit that is shunned by his colleagues. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any more complicated, a murder case emerges, and it appears to be connected to his ex-girlfriend.

Author Note: this haven't been proofread, you might found typos and grammatical error. Reader is she.

Since the manipulation incident that marred Jeonghan's record years ago, he found himself transferred to the last place any police officer wanted to be: Unit 10, specializing in domestic case. The reason was painfully clear – it was where they stashed away the 'undesirable' officers, far from any significant cases. It's like being exiled to the Island of Misfit Toys, only with less glitter and more restraining orders. Jeonghan couldn't quite label every missing pet he'd tracked down as a 'case'; it felt more like passing the hours than true investigative work.

Jeonghan couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. He'd gone from potential super-sleuth to the guy who mediates couple over who gets the sofa in a messy breakup. It was a far cry from chasing down notorious criminals, but hey, at least he was saving furniture from an untimely demise.

His colleagues in the 'real crime' units would swagger in, regaling the office with tales of high-speed chases and epic takedowns. Meanwhile, Jeonghan was learning the delicate art of diffusing family feuds with nothing but a clipboard and a well-timed dad joke.

There were days when he felt more like a referee in a dysfunctional game show than a police officer. He'd wade through tangled disputes over who left the toilet seat up and who finished the last of the cereal. It was like a twisted episode of "Law and Order: Household Edition."

Yet, amidst the chaos, Jeonghan discovered a strange kind of satisfaction. He was the unsung hero of household havoc, the Sherlock of sock-stealing roommates. He brought order to the chaos, one misplaced remote at a time.

So, while his colleagues chased after masked bandits and international spies, Jeonghan patrolled the treacherous terrain of domestic disputes, armed with a sense of humor and a hefty supply of marriage counseling brochures. And as he stood amidst the wreckage of yet another epic laundry detergent argument, he couldn't help but grin. After all, someone had to keep the peace in the war zone of weekend warriors and sibling rivalries.

No, in contrary, everyone. He didn't enjoy every second of it at all.

Well, karma finally caught up with Jeonghan, and it wasn't pulling any punches. After years of playing fast and loose with evidence and dabbling in a little graft on the side, it turned out his best buddy on the force was the one to spill the beans. Talk about a double whammy – not only did he get a serious case of red-faced embarrassment, but he lost a pal in the process.

And if that wasn't enough, the universe decided Jeonghan needed another dose of cosmic payback. His ex, the one and only former flame, broke up with him without so much as a hint of an explanation. Talk about adding insult to injury! Suddenly, he was single, friendless, and jobless faster than you could say "karma's a real stickler".

Jeonghan's muttered curses could probably be heard from Mars every time he recalled the trainwreck that had been the past three months. It was like a twisted sitcom, where the universe was the ruthless showrunner and he was the hapless protagonist, stumbling from one catastrophe to the next.

As Jeonghan sat at his desk, wallowing in regret for all the missteps he'd taken, his lone senior – the only other soul sharing this forsaken office – made a grand entrance. And who should trail in behind him but the one and only Soonyoung, his former junior from the 2nd unit of the Criminal and Violence division.

Jeonghan practically catapulted out of his chair, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the comrade he'd spent seven years alongside. "What brings you here?!" he blurted out, silently praying that his internal alarms were just a false alarm. Soonyoung was no slouch when it came to policing; having him end up in this backwater felt like casting Tom Hanks as the office janitor. It was a crime against justice itself.

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel like he was witnessing a talent show on a cruise ship, with both himself and Soonyoung reduced to performing card tricks for the tourists. It was a spectacle, but not in a good way. Placing Jeonghan here was already like using a Lamborghini as a glorified paperweight, but now, with Soonyoung in tow, it was like throwing in a Ferrari for kicks.

"I requested to be moved here, sunbae," Soonyoung chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jeonghan's jaw nearly hit the floor. It was like watching a penguin declare it had always dreamed of being a flamingo. He blinked, momentarily lost for words. "You... requested this?" he managed to sputter out, disbelief dripping from every syllable.

Soonyoung grinned, his expression unapologetically cheeky. "Yep, I figured that i haven't learned enough from you." he quipped, casting a theatrical gaze around the modest office space.

Jeonghan couldn't decide if he should laugh or stage an intervention.

"Well, you've certainly right on that," Jeonghan finally replied, unable to suppress a chuckle.

As the three of them stood there, an odd trio in a sea of mediocrity, Jeonghan let out a nervous laugh. It was the kind that bubbles up when you're faced with the sheer lunacy of life The station might not know it yet, but it had just become the backdrop for the most unconventional buddy cop sitcom of the century.

"Did you find the corby that was assigned two days ago?" Yang Beomjae, a senior with nearly two decades of police service, inquired, extending a brochure featuring a forlorn-looking dog named Jennifer.

Jeonghan let out an exasperated sigh, momentarily closing his eyes, as if hoping to teleport himself out of this never-ending parade of missing pets. South Korea seemed to have developed a sudden epidemic of disappearing furry friends. It was as if he'd been drafted into some sort of secret 'Pet Detective Division' without his consent. He couldn't help but wonder if his badge was equipped with a hidden GPS tracker for runaway pets. This was beginning to feel like a full-time gig, and he was pretty sure he didn't sign up for this in the police academy.

He took the brochure from Beomjae with a resigned nod, already mentally preparing for another round of 'Where's Waldo: Pet Edition'. Jennifer the missing corby was just another puzzle piece in this bizarre pet-sized jigsaw. The poor dog probably thought it was auditioning for some canine version of 'Amazing Race'.

Jeonghan glanced around the office, half expecting to find a secret stash of 'Missing Pet Bingo' cards tucked away somewhere. He couldn't help but marvel at the sheer dedication of the pet-owning populace to misplace their furry companions. If only they put this much effort into remembering their anniversary dates.

With a wry grin, he set off on the latest leg of his unexpected pet-finding adventure. Jennifer, here he came – detective extraordinaire, now specializing in the clandestine world of runaway corbies.

"I'll come with you!" Said the very loyal junior of him, one and only Kim Soonyoung.

*

"It's a whole different ball game," Jeonghan remarked, steering the car towards the potential location of Jennifer. "No late-night stakeouts with a lot of suspect profiling and plenty of downtime for laughs. That's pretty much the drill in this unit." He regaled his three-month rollercoaster of an experience to the wide-eyed rookie, Soonyoung, who listened intently, though a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. Jeonghan secretly hoping to instill some regret in the younger officer for joining this supposedly undesirable unit.

After they parked, Jeonghan stepped out of the car, the block of apartments standing like a sentinel miles away from Jennifer's last known location. Memories of a similar case flashed in his mind - a friend of Jennifer's vanished, only to be found in this very vicinity, being fed by a benevolent fifty-something woman. As they strolled, the tranquility shattered by a sudden scream, and there she was: the familiar woman, who'd taken up the noble task of nourishing the neighborhood's furry inhabitants, now sprinting out of the building.

The sight struck Jeonghan, momentarily caught between amusement and concern. He glanced at Soonyoung, who seemed to be processing the scene with wide eyes and a barely contained grin. "Welcome to the wild ride, Soonyoung," he said, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Buckle up, it's never dull in this unit."

"Help! Help!" The woman's panicked cries reached Jeonghan and Soonyoung, sending a jolt of urgency through them. Jeonghan swiftly approached, pulling out his badge, a beacon of authority.

"Ma'am, I'm a police officer. Take a deep breath and tell us what happened," he reassured her, his voice steady.

The woman's words tumbled out in a rush, "My neighbor, I-I found her... blood... and..." Jeonghan didn't wait for the sentence to finish, already in motion. He gestured for Soonyoung to follow, their training kicking in.

"Soonyoung, call for assistance from the station," Jeonghan directed firmly, trusting in his partner's quick thinking. The urgency in the air was palpable, a stark reminder of the unpredictable nature of their work.

Once Jeonghan had donned his gloves and protective shoe covers, he stepped onto the scene. His heart clenched in his chest as he beheld the gruesome sight: a familiar woman, bathed in her own blood, with several stab wounds marring her body. It was his former girlfriend's mother, your mother.

Time seemed to slow as a flood of memories and emotions washed over him. He pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't afford to let personal ties cloud his judgment now. This was a crime scene, and he was a detective sworn to uphold justice.

"What's happened, sunbae?" Soonyoung stood beside him, scrutinizing the victim's condition. It was clear she had been murdered around eight hours ago. Jeonghan observed the other officers diligently executing their roles, gathering evidence while the forensics team prepared to process the victim. He took a deep breath before attempting to call you, fully anticipating that you might not answer. As expected, there was no response. He resorted to sending you a series of urgent texts, conveying that he had something crucial to discuss. Nearly half an hour passed before you finally returned his call.

"Hey, what's wrong? Something's happened?" Your voice carried a cheerful tone, blissfully unaware of the devastating news that awaited you.

"I need you to brace yourself for what I'm about to say, okay?" Jeonghan implored, his voice carrying the weight of the somber revelation he was about to deliver. After a heavy sigh, he mustered the strength to speak the words, "Your mom was found murdered just an hour ago. I'm here at the scene right now."

There was a palpable silence on the other end of the line, broken only by the sound of your slow exhale, as if you had been holding your breath since the moment he uttered those shocking words. The weight of the news hung heavy in the air, a painful truth that now bound both you and Jeonghan in shared sorrow.

"Where is she?" Your voice came out in a hushed, trembling whisper. Jeonghan gently relayed the location, the somber apartment building where your mother had made her home for several months.

"She's been processed by the forensics team, but we need you to discuss authorizing an autopsy," he explained, his own voice tinged with empathy and understanding.

"I'll be there," you replied, determination and grief tightly woven into your words.

As the call ended, Jeonghan took a moment to collect himself. He braced for the meeting that awaited him, knowing it would be the first time he'd see you in three long months. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, a mixture of grief, determination, and a shared resolve to seek justice for your mother.

*

Jeonghan hadn't laid eyes on you in what felt like an eternity. He'd been tip-toeing around the boundaries you'd set after the breakup, which he was convinced were more convoluted than a Rubik's Cube in a tornado. As you approached, your hair danced like rebellious spirits in the zephyr, adding an extra touch of magic to your already enchanting presence. Even in a moment like this, you were a vision. Jeonghan, for a second, had the wild urge to sweep you into a tight embrace, but alas, duty called, and he was stuck in the middle of work. Soonyoung's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you. He knew you were Jeonghan's former girlfriend, but the whole situation had him more puzzled than a cat trying to understand calculus. He glanced at the victim data, then it clicked – you were the victim's daughter. He shot a glance at Jeonghan, a mix of encouragement and disbelief dancing in his eyes. It was like watching a soap opera, but with less dramatic background music. Jeonghan wrestled with a storm of emotions, a tornado of regret and longing whirling within him. If only he could find the right words to bridge this canyon of misunderstanding and boundaries. But alas, words seemed to have taken a vacation without sending a postcard.

The air was thick with tension as you finally stood face-to-face with him after three long months. Your first words cut through the heaviness, a desperate plea for answers, "Where's she?"

Jeonghan's gaze shifted to the forensic ambulance, a somber acknowledgment of the grim reality. "She's currently being processed," he began gently, his voice carrying the weight of the situation. "I'm afraid you can't see her right now. We need your consent for an autopsy. There are signs indicating potential violence."

You bristled at the notion, your principles steadfast in opposition. The thought of subjecting your mother's memory to such an invasive procedure was a bitter pill to swallow. In your heart, you longed to remember her in the light that was true to her essence, not tainted by the brutality of her passing.

Jeonghan, acutely aware of your emotional turmoil, presented a compelling argument. His words were carefully chosen, emphasizing the greater good that could come from uncovering the truth. He knew the delicate balance he walked, aware of your sensitivity and the fragility of your heart.

Your voice trembled with apprehension as you asked the question that weighed heavily on your mind, "It's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

Jeonghan felt the weight of the answer he needed to provide. How could he possibly encapsulate the complexity of the situation? Should he be brutally honest about the intensity of the process, or should he offer reassurance that your mother would feel no pain?

Just as the silence began to stretch, Soonyoung stepped in, offering a perspective that hadn't crossed Jeonghan's mind. "Rather than hurt, I think your mother would want the world to know the truth," he affirmed, his words striking a chord.

You, grateful for the support, implored for a moment to collect your thoughts. "Can you give me time to think about it? I promise it won't be long. But so much is happening and I can't think straight," you pleaded, directing most of your gaze towards Soonyoung, who seemed to radiate a comforting presence.

Soonyoung nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. "Take all the time you need, Y/n. I know this is an incredibly tough moment for you. Would you like to sit down? Maybe some water?" He gently guided you towards a nearby bench, leaving Jeonghan standing alone to process the whirlwind of events that had unfolded.

*

Jeonghan's voice held a weariness that spoke volumes. "I don't want to take this case, sunbae," he confessed, sinking into his seat, trying to make himself appear as inconspicuous as possible.

Beomjae let out a resigned sigh, clearly hoping for a spark of the old Jeonghan he used to know. "I thought you were missing your old self, that's why I accepted this case."

Frustration radiated from Jeonghan as he roughly tugged at his own hair. The situation before him was a tangled mess, a cruel reminder of the life he used to lead. He yearned for the days when he pursued real criminals, not navigating the intricacies of Jennifer and her companions. This case, though, was an entirely different beast. It was your mother who was the victim, and the thought of facing you, speaking to you, without stumbling over his own words and appearing foolish was a daunting prospect.

He knew he wasn't foolish, not by a long shot. It was the effect you had on him, the power you held to unravel his composure with just a glance. Jeonghan was acutely aware that your presence had the uncanny ability to turn him into someone he scarcely recognized, a vulnerability he wasn't accustomed to.

Jeonghan's conviction rang through the room, his resolve unwavering. "It's different. I don't want to do it!" he asserted, his eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and frustration.

Suddenly, Soonyoung sprang from his seat, a burst of eagerness propelling him forward. "I'll do it, sir. I'll work on it hard," he declared, eager to seize the opportunity.

Jeonghan's ire flared at Soonyoung's impulsive offer. "I thought you wanted to learn from me? If I'm not taking the case, then neither are you," he scolded, his words stern.

Soonyoung's shoulders slumped, a pout tugging at his lips. "It's just... I feel bad for Y/n. I understand you can't take it because she's your ex, so I'll do it on your behalf," he explained, his voice carrying a hint of remorse, which only fueled Jeonghan's irritation.

"It's not about that! I— i just don't feel up to handling such a heavy case right now. I'm still adjusting here. And besides— why is our unit being tasked with cases from Criminal and Violence? We're domestic division!" Jeonghan vented his frustration, his discontentment with the situation bubbling to the surface.

Beomjae interjected, his voice calm but authoritative, shedding light on the matter. "You haven't heard, have you?" he questioned, capturing their attention. "Her daughter is a suspect. They found her fingerprint on the weapon. Its status is domestic homicide."

Jeonghan and Soonyoung were left dumbfounded, their minds struggling to process the revelation. It felt as though the air had shifted, reality tilting on its axis. "The results came in hours ago," Beomjae added, handing them the report. Jeonghan's eyes scanned the words, his disbelief echoing in the repeated refrain of 'no way.' There was no conceivable reality in which you could be the suspect. It was inconceivable.

"Since we found the evidence and the suspect, i don't think it's a heavy case."

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel the tangled mess of emotions threatening to engulf him. It was a whirlwind of complications he never imagined he'd face. First, you'd walked away from him three months prior, leaving behind a void of unanswered questions. Now, here you were, seated before him, a suspect in your own mother's tragic demise.

He let out a sigh, the absurdity of the situation almost too much to bear. In some twisted, cosmic joke, fate had decided to bestow upon him this absurd cop sitcom scenario. The irony wasn't lost on him, and he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But then, there you sat, an enigma he couldn't begin to unravel.

You were, without a doubt, one of the most unpredictable people he'd ever encountered. Your actions had always been a dance of spontaneity and caprice. Yet, the notion of you being connected to such a heinous act, especially involving your own mother, was beyond anything he could have fathomed. It was a curveball that left him reeling, struggling to find his footing amidst the chaos of emotions that swirled within him.

The atmosphere in the room was tense as Soonyoung settled beside Jeonghan, fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to transcribe every word that fell from your lips. Jeonghan, still grappling with the surreal nature of the situation, took a deep, weighted breath before beginning the interview.

"Kim Y/n, 34 years old, a writer, graduated in criminology," he recited, each word a heavy acknowledgment of the facts before him. He couldn't help but berate himself internally; your background in criminology only added a layer of plausibility to the notion that you might be involved in the tragic incident. It was as if the pieces were aligning in a way that painted a damning picture.

The room hung heavy with tension as Jeonghan began the interview, his words etching the grim reality into the atmosphere. His gaze bore into you, your silence speaking volumes, a stark contrast to the weight of the accusations.

"Park Haerim, your mother, was found dead on July 23rd in her apartment," he stated, the words landing heavily in the room. "We found a knife with her DNA on a pile of trash in front of your apartment, with your fingerprint. Do you have any word on that?"

The silence that followed was deafening, a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The weight of the evidence was a damning testament to the gravity of the situation, hanging over the room like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. Jeonghan's gaze remained fixed on you, a silent plea for an explanation, a denial, anything to break the silence that threatened to suffocate them all.

Jeonghan's voice carried a weight of solemnity as he began the interview, the gravity of the situation palpable in the air. His gaze shifted to you, your silence a stark contrast to the weight of the accusations.

'Say something, Y/n. Say something,' he pleaded internally, his eyes silently urging you to break the silence. He knew that in the absence of a strong alibi or evidence of your innocence, the mounting evidence could easily paint you as the perpetrator. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach.

As the seconds stretched, Jeonghan silently prayed for you to find your voice, to refute the damning sentence that hung in the air. The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the truth and the potential consequences pressing down on everyone present.

Jeonghan's questions hung in the air, each word pregnant with expectation and dread. The room was stifling, the silence pressing in from all sides. Soonyoung could feel the weight of it, an oppressive force that seemed to squeeze the air from his lungs.

Your silence was deafening, a void that threatened to swallow them all. It weighed heavily on Jeonghan, his eyes fixed on you, imploring for a response. His voice grew more insistent, edged with a desperate hope that you would say something, anything to break the deadlock.

"Where were you when the incident happened?" he pressed, the question hanging like a pendulum. You took a deep breath, but still, no answer came.

Jeonghan shifted tactics, trying a different approach. "How many times did you stab Park Haerim?" he asked, his gaze unwavering. Your eyes met his, a look that held a thousand unspoken words.

Then, without warning, Jeonghan stood abruptly, a palpable frustration radiating from him. "Let's take a break," he muttered, his voice strained. He made his way to the exit, his steps heavy with the weight of the situation. The room seemed to exhale as he left, the tension dissipating, if only slightly. Soonyoung let out a silent breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his gaze flickering briefly to you before returning to the floor. The room was heavy with uncertainty, each breath a struggle against the suffocating atmosphere.

The whispered admission halted Jeonghan in his tracks, his eyes locking onto you. "I was at home," you confessed, your voice barely louder than a breath.

"You were at home?" he echoed, seeking confirmation, and you nodded, a fragile glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes. "Writing," you added, your words a hesitant but crucial addition to the narrative.

Jeonghan's gaze shifted to Soonyoung, a silent directive to continue recording your testimony. He knew the weight of this moment, the pivotal importance of your alibi. "Do you have anything that can prove your alibi?" he inquired, his tone tempered with cautious optimism.

You nodded, a newfound determination in your expression. "I didn't leave the house for two days. I was calling my friend, Lee Chan, and he visited my house that night. I was with him until the morning." The details spilled from your lips, each word a lifeline in this maelstrom of uncertainty.

Jeonghan's mind raced with questions, a whirlwind of curiosity and concern. Each query was a piece of the puzzle, a glimpse into a part of your life that he hadn't been privy to.

1. Why did you call him?

2. Why did he stay in your house?

3. What was your relationship with Chan?

These questions danced on the tip of Jeonghan's tongue, eager to find their way into the conversation. But he knew now wasn't the time. The priority was to verify your alibi.

"Could we check your alibi?" he asked, his voice measured. You nodded in response, your determination unwavering. "You can check my apartment's CCTV, my writing history. I never left home," you explained, offering a straightforward account of your whereabouts.

A part of him yearned to immediately reassure you, to say, 'I believe in you,' based on the history you shared. He knew you intimately, understood the rhythms of your life. Yet, the weight of the case and the complexities that lay ahead left him hesitant.

He let out a sigh, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. Regret gnawed at him, a persistent thought that maybe he should've pursued Jennifer's case instead. The path ahead was uncertain, and he was acutely aware that every step he took would have far-reaching consequences.

"Okay, we're going to check on your alibi."

*

Jeonghan's jaw tightened in frustration as he watched the news, the headline a harsh indictment of you. "Popular Crime Writer Has Killed Her Own Mother." The words blared from the screen, painting a damning picture. He couldn't bear to hear any more, swiftly turning off the television. The label of 'suspect' felt like an unjust brand searing into his mind.

'Suspect! Still a suspect,' he repeated in his thoughts like a mantra, a silent plea for the truth to emerge.

Soonyoung approached him, report and phone in hand. He handed over the report detailing the activities captured by the apartment building's CCTV. Jeonghan's eyes scanned the pages, each frame a snapshot of your movements leading up to the incident. The images painted a picture of normalcy, of someone going about their daily routines.

Soonyoung pointed out the key moments, the times your door had been opened. Each entry was a piece of the puzzle, a glimpse into the timeline of events. Jeonghan meticulously examined the records, each entry a crucial piece of the puzzle. The timestamps and descriptions painted a vivid picture of your movements in the days leading up to the incident.

"Two days before the incident," he mused, studying the image of you carrying groceries. It was a mundane scene, but it held significance in establishing your routine.

"Chan's visit," he noted, his eyes tracing the time you spent with your friend. It was a confirmed alibi, a crucial point in your defense.

"And when you left after receiving information about your mother," he murmured, the gravity of the situation settling in his chest. That moment, that choice, was a turning point in the narrative.

Each entry was a window into your world, a chronicle of your actions. Jeonghan knew that within these records lay the truth, waiting to be uncovered. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, urging him to piece together the fragments of evidence and find the answers that could exonerate you.

Jeonghan absorbed Soonyoung's explanation, frustration simmering beneath the surface. The broken CCTV felt like a cruel twist of fate, a critical piece of evidence just out of reach.

"How about Chan's alibi?" Jeonghan queried, seeking reassurance in the face of the mounting doubts.

"He confirmed that they were together that night, so there's no way Y/n was coming to her mother's house," Soonyoung assured, presenting yet another piece of the puzzle. The weight of relief settled on Jeonghan's shoulders. It was a crucial confirmation, a solid alibi that could potentially shift the tide.

"Also, Y/n was last seen visiting her mother a week before the incident. That's the last time they seemed to see each other," Soonyoung added, his voice steady. Jeonghan absorbed this information, the timeline of events slowly coalescing in his mind.

The revelation about the CCTV being under maintenance on the night of the incident was a frustrating setback, but Jeonghan knew they had made progress. With Chan's alibi and the knowledge of your last visit, they were building a case that could potentially exonerate you.

Jeonghan's mind raced, formulating a plan of action. The truth was out there, waiting to be uncovered. He was determined to find it, to clear your name and bring justice to both you and your mother. However—

"Argh! My head is about to explode!"

Soonyoung jumped, startled by Jeonghan's sudden outburst. He quickly turned to his superior, concern etched across his face. "Sunbae, are you okay?" he asked, worry lacing his voice. The stress of the investigation seemed to be taking a toll on both of them, but seeing Jeonghan in such distress was particularly alarming.

Soonyoung furrowed his brows, concern deepening as he met Jeonghan's gaze. The whispered admission caught him off guard. Jeonghan was known for his unwavering determination and resilience, especially when it came to solving cases. Seeing him like this, openly expressing exhaustion, was a rare occurrence.

"Sunbae, maybe you should take a break," Soonyoung suggested gently, recognizing the toll this case was taking on his superior. The weight of the investigation, coupled with the emotional turmoil surrounding you, seemed to be wearing Jeonghan down. It was a stark reminder of the human cost of their work in law enforcement.

"You stay here, I'll go for a walk," Jeonghan stated, his tone tinged with an air of quiet determination.

True to his words, he set off on a walk. However, he couldn't fathom how his own legs had led him to the detention facility where you were being held as a suspect. It was midnight, the facility cloaked in shadows, with only a few weary officers manning their posts.

Seeing you there, sitting with a book in hand, was surreal. He couldn't believe his eyes. You appeared strangely composed, far from the image he'd conjured in his mind.

"I thought you'd be frightened or anxious, being held like this," he confessed, approaching you cautiously. Your gaze lifted from the book to meet his, a weak smile playing on your lips as you closed it.

"Done checking my alibi?" you inquired, getting straight to the point. He nodded slowly, finding his way to a seat near the entrance of the cage.

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of the situation palpable. Then, finally, Jeonghan found his voice.

"I'm sorry for your mom," he murmured, the words heavy with sincerity and regret. They hung in the air, a feeble attempt to offer solace in the face of such a devastating loss.

"There's so much going on, and suddenly I'm a killer. I can't even process it," you confessed, a wry chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of the situation.

Jeonghan listened, his mind still processing the newfound information he had about your medicine consumption. Finally, he mustered the courage to ask, "Why do you take the medicine?"

You chuckled in response, acknowledging his discovery. "It helps regulate my sleep schedule," you explained casually. When he inquired about your sleep troubles, you nodded. "Not everyone can find rest as easily as you, Jeonghan," you noted with a gentle tone.

"It's not a remedy for a terrible illness, is it?" he probed, seeking to understand the reasons behind your medication.

You didn't directly respond. Instead, you opened your book and pointed to a sentence. "I've been reading this since I was brought here."

Jeonghan's eyes fell on the words, "Time is a gentle stream that gradually wears away the hardest stone." He looked to you, a silent question in his gaze.

You took a breath, the weight of your situation evident in your words. "I saw a news about me. People think I killed my mother when I have no idea how all of this happened. I want to tell, to scream, to announce that I'm not the killer. But would it make a difference? Would it be anything more than a waste of time?" you wondered aloud, your voice tinged with frustration and helplessness.

"So, you're just going to wait and let time unveil the truth?" Jeonghan sought clarification.

You nodded, your conviction clear. Jeonghan couldn't contain his concern. "You shouldn't do that! If you truly are not the killer, explain it to people! Clear up the misunderstanding. Your words hold so much power, sometimes more than you realize," he implored, his disagreement evident in his tone. The urgency in his voice mirrored the weight of the situation.

You chuckled at his words, a lightness in the sound that contrasted with the gravity of the situation. "Why are you getting angry?" you inquired, your eyes meeting his with genuine curiosity. Jeonghan found himself without an immediate answer. He couldn't quite pinpoint why his emotions were running so high. It was as if a whirlwind of concerns and fears had taken root within him.

As he grappled with his own emotions, he questioned himself, 'Why are you getting angry?' The inner dialogue mirrored the external one.

"It's just— you were on the brink of being sentenced. If you hadn't spoken up during the interrogation, you could have been handed a 15-year sentence!" he tried to explain, the weight of the near-miss still fresh in his mind.

"But I won't, right?" you responded, your voice calm but the implications chilling.

Your words sent a shiver down Jeonghan's spine. He rose from his seat, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you one more time. "Tomorrow, during the interrogation, I want to hear everything that is the truth from you," he stated with a determination that matched the gravity of the situation.

*

While being interrogated, you were not alone today. Your lawyer, Hong Joshua, had come to keep you company before your 48-hour detention came to an end. The interrogation had gone smoothly, at least as far as Jeonghan could tell. You answered all of his questions and vehemently denied any accusations of murdering your mother—something that brought a sense of relief to Jeonghan.

After asserting your innocence and claiming that the actual killer was still at large, you were finally released from your detention. As you, Joshua, and Jeonghan stepped out of the interrogation room, there was a palpable sense of lightness in the air. However, Jeonghan knew that his work was far from over. He immediately tasked Soonyoung with initiating a request for a thorough investigation into the case.

"Thank you so much for coming," Jeonghan expressed his gratitude to Joshua, a friend of both him and you, who had come at his request since you had initially declined legal representation.

"It's a pleasure," Joshua replied, his gaze shifting to you. "I'm truly sorry about your mother. Please don't hesitate to call me if you ever need assistance, alright?" he offered, his words carrying a warm sincerity. He then gently embraced you in a show of support.

"Thanks, Josh," you replied, mustering a weak smile. The weight of the situation was still very much present.

As Joshua stepped away, leaving you and Jeonghan alone, he turned to you with a sense of urgency. "I need your help," he implored, his eyes searching yours.

He explained his request before you could interject, acknowledging that while you were no longer an active member of the police force, he valued your insights immensely.

Before Jeonghan could delve further into his plea, the audible growl of your stomach served as a distraction. He looked at you with concern, his brow furrowing. "Don't tell me you haven't had a meal?" he asked, worry lacing his words.

You nodded hesitantly, admitting, "My last meal was two days ago." It explained the weariness and weight loss that was noticeable to him.

Without hesitation, Jeonghan guided you to his car and drove you to the nearest restaurant. As you waited for the food to arrive, he attempted to pick up the conversation from earlier, though he did most of the talking, noting how your words had left an impression on him.

"Your words linger in me," he confessed, his gaze locked onto yours. "You mentioned how your fingerprint could be anywhere, but you were at home," he recalled from your earlier discussion at the police station.

"If anyone knows your background well, being a former top profiler—ouch! Okay, okay, I'll stop," he protested playfully as you swatted his hand in mock reproach. "What I mean is, those who know you would never think you could be the killer," Jeonghan explained.

"But you were hesitant, weren't you?" you astutely pointed out, catching him off guard.

Jeonghan sighed, conceding, "I was... I admit, I did consider that you might be involved. Don't blame me! No one can predict what's going on in your head, Miss Writer."

"If only—if only you hadn't confessed to being at home and we hadn't checked your alibi, you might not be here, enjoying your meal so comfortably. Thank you," he said sincerely, first to you, and then to the waitress who brought your food.

As she left, he continued, "You might be in court right now, and I wouldn't have to work my ass off to find the real culprit. I was actually starting to enjoy my simple domestic cases."

Your puzzled look prompted you to ask, "What do you mean? Did you switch to the Domestic Division?" He nodded, indicating with his fingers that he had been in the unit you once ended up in before leaving to become a writer.

Suppressing a laugh, you responded, "Really? Since when? Is Beomjae sunbae-nim still there?" He confirmed your question with a nod.

"Next week will mark my fourth month," he added.

Returning to the matter at hand, Jeonghan sought your assistance once more. You shook your head, declining his offer. "Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm done playing the role of a real detective, Jeonghan. And honestly, I don't think you need my help. You're doing an excellent job. Besides, Soonyoung is a capable partner, isn't he?" you explained, firm in your decision.

Jeonghan found himself taken aback by your choice of address, 'Jeonghan'. It had been years since you called him that—back in the rookie days of being an officer, nearly a decade ago. In private moments, it used to be 'babe' or 'love' between just the two of you. The shift didn't go unnoticed, and it stirred his curiosity about why you had decided to end things.

"But still, it's your mom's case," Jeonghan murmured, trying to find a way to understand your perspective.

You chuckled, a touch of irony in your laughter. "Don't you dare try to gain my empathy. I wasn't planning on authorizing an autopsy until my fingerprint turned up on the knife. I was just going to move on and live my life in peace."

Jeonghan scoffed, unable to resist a teasing remark. "You talk like you only live for months. Why choose a peaceful life when you can savor a taste of chaos?" he countered.

"Like mediating break-up couples about who gets to keep the house?" you playfully teased, earning a groan from Jeonghan. "Thank goodness we don't have to deal with that. There are already too many cases like that," he remarked, realizing the irony of his words a moment too late. He glanced at you, half-expecting a knowing look, but you simply continued to eat your food, unfazed by his slip of the tongue.

Sometimes, Jeonghan realized, he tended to talk too much.

*

"Babe?" Jeonghan's voice broke the morning stillness, sensing the absence of warmth beside him. He hurriedly made his way out of the bedroom, drawn by the sound emanating from the bathroom. As he pushed open the door, concern etched on his face, he found you hunched over, struggling through a bout of vomiting.

He stepped in, a comforting presence, offering a steadying hand on your back and gathering your hair away from your face. Despite his gentle efforts, you insisted, your voice a soft mumble, "It's gross."

"It's okay. Do you need anything? Can you make it to the couch? I'll assist you," Jeonghan offered, his worry palpable.

Once settled on the couch, he hurried to fetch water, gently tilting the glass to your lips. He studied you, his gaze filled with both concern and curiosity.

"Are you alright? Is something bothering you?" he inquired, his voice laced with worry. You simply shook your head.

"I think I must've eaten something off last night. My stomach's not too happy about it," you explained with a faint smile.

The next day, the same scenario unfolded. Morning and night, you found yourself battling waves of nausea. Jeonghan couldn't help but worry.

"Do you really think it's fine? Maybe we should consider going to the hospital," he suggested, concern etched in his features. You shook your head, assuring him that a hospital visit might not be necessary.

"I'm open to a check-up, though. It's been a while since we had one, hasn't it?" you proposed.

"I'm okay with that. But for now, get some rest. I'll come back tomorrow, alright?" Jeonghan said, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and then your lips. With one last worried glance, he left for his night shift.

Jeonghan didn't return home for the next three days, only sending a message that he'd be back once he wrapped up his work. When he finally arrived, he found you peacefully asleep in bed. He took a quick shower before joining you, hoping to catch up on some much-needed rest.

However, his slumber was abruptly interrupted as you suddenly pulled away from his embrace and hurried to the bathroom, your body wracked with another bout of vomiting. Concerned, Jeonghan swiftly followed, taking care of you as best he could. He prepared a soothing mint tea, something you had mentioned you kept handy in case of further discomfort. Sitting beside you on the couch, he finally voiced the worry that had been gnawing at him.

"You've been going through this for nearly a week now. Do you really think you're okay?" he gently asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"It's just my stomach acting up lately. I think it might be my irregular eating habits," you explained, attempting to reassure him.

"No, love. I mean... is this normal? All of this... I mean... are you... are you pregnant?" Jeonghan finally mustered the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for days.

You shook your head, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. "No, I'm not. I took a test, and it came back negative. I even went to the doctor yesterday," you assured him.

"Then what's wrong? Why have you been experiencing this?" he asked, concern etched on his face. You sighed softly, a hint of pain in your voice, "I think I might need to see a doctor. It's starting to hurt." You gently rubbed your stomach, and Jeonghan felt a pang of helplessness wash over him.

"Would you like me to accompany you tomorrow? I can take a day off," Jeonghan offered, his eyes filled with concern. As he expected, you shook your head, insisting on going alone. He nodded, respecting your wishes, though his worry for you lingered.

The memory of the night three months before the breakup was still vivid in Jeonghan's mind. The slow unraveling of the relationship, like a frayed thread that couldn't be mended. Jeonghan, consumed by his demanding job in preparation for a promotion, found himself growing distant, while you were engrossed in the revisions and release of your upcoming book. The gap widened, and in just three months, a nearly six-year relationship began to crumble under the weight of miscommunication and emotional disconnection, at least from Jeonghan's perspective.

After two weeks of being largely absent due to work, Jeonghan returned home, half-expecting not to find you in your usual spots around the house, absorbed in your own tasks. However, that night was different. He discovered you sitting on the couch, tears streaming down your face, body trembling. He'd seen you emotional before, but never like this – it was a raw, heart-wrenching display of sorrow and despair.

Approaching you cautiously, Jeonghan inquired softly, "Baby... What's wrong?" He wanted to offer comfort, but when you pulled away from his touch, he was taken aback. It was unlike you to avoid him.

"No, stop," you pleaded through tears.

Confused and hurt, Jeonghan couldn't understand. "Why? What happened? Am I doing something wrong?" He reached out for you again, determined to provide comfort.

"Don't... Stop it," you mumbled, struggling to evade his grasp.

"Tell me! What's wrong?!" Jeonghan's frustration boiled over.

"Let's break up," you whispered, the words shattering something deep within Jeonghan. He needed to be sure, to hear it again, worried that perhaps he'd misunderstood.

"Tell me a reason why you... suddenly, want to break up?"

"I fell out of love. I don't love you anymore."

"What? Out of the blue, after six years – out of the blue, you fell out of love? Tell me! Be honest with me? What's wrong?"

"I'm being honest?"

"It's not because you're pregnant, right? And you don't want to face me because my family is pretty conservative. Are you pregnant?"

"No! I'm not pregnant. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not pregnant!"

The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air, both of you grappling with the reality of what was unfolding.

"Tell me once again. Why?"

"I don't love you anymore. Let's break up."

*

Jeonghan finally caught a glimpse of the mysterious man, the suspect who had killed Park Haerim. He was seen discarding the knife in a trash bin near your apartment building. Frustratingly, the car's blackbox only captured the man's back before he vanished into areas not covered by the CCTV.

With this newfound evidence, Jeonghan was able to confirm that you were not the perpetrator behind Park Haerim's murder. The focus shifted towards apprehending this mysterious man, prompting a thorough search by Jeonghan's team.

In the ensuing days, Jeonghan was immersed in monitoring the CCTV footage from the day of the incident, hoping to uncover any additional leads. It was during this intense scrutiny that Soonyoung unexpectedly approached him.

"What is it?" Jeonghan inquired, his eyes fixed on Soonyoung who seemed visibly uneasy.

Soonyoung's fingers danced nervously, grappling with the weight of what he was about to reveal. "It's not directly related to the case," he began, causing Jeonghan's brows to knit in confusion. Yet, knowing Soonyoung's tendency to leave him astounded, he held his questions.

"I debated whether to keep this to myself, but I don't think I can," Soonyoung confessed, taking a seat across from Jeonghan and producing an envelope from his jacket.

The hospital logo on the envelope caught Jeonghan's eye, and his heart quickened. Your name adorned the front. Jeonghan's curiosity mingled with a growing sense of trepidation.

"I discovered this during our investigation at her house. I assume you haven't seen it," Soonyoung ventured.

Jeonghan studied Soonyoung's face, searching for any hint of what was to come. The seal on the envelope gave way to Jeonghan's careful touch, revealing the contents within. His eyes scanned the words, and the air seemed to still around him. Gastrointestinal cancerous tumor, grade II. The date on the report sent a jolt through him—it was issued a mere week before your breakup.

The room felt charged with a palpable mix of disbelief, concern, and an urgent need to understand. Jeonghan's gaze shifted from the report to Soonyoung, his emotions swirling within him. The weight of this revelation settled heavily on his shoulders, knowing that you had faced this diagnosis alone.

"Why didn't she tell me?" Jeonghan's voice wavered with a mixture of disbelief and worry. He couldn't fathom the pain you must have endured in silence.

"When I read that, it struck me that she probably didn't want you to know, considering... well, it's cancerous, right? And it can be life-threatening," Soonyoung explained, his voice laden with empathy.

Jeonghan's mind whirred, trying to process the weight of Soonyoung's words. "What are you trying to say?" he queried, a touch of urgency coloring his tone.

Soonyoung's voice took on a somber note. "This could be the underlying reason she felt so hopeless after her mother's tragic end," he murmured, the implications sinking into the room.

The revelation hit Jeonghan like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the shadows of the past few months. 'She was preparing for the worst... for herself.' The realization clenched at Jeonghan's chest, stealing his breath.

He shot up from his seat, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. This was why you had chosen to end things, sparing him from the pain of a potentially devastating future. It was a selfless act, but Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a profound ache in his heart.

In a flurry of emotions, Jeonghan dialed your number repeatedly, his concern growing with each unanswered call. Texts went unanswered, and a feeling of dread settled over him. He couldn't shake the urgency to see you.

As he approached your apartment building, he was still trying to reach you. Lost in his worry, he collided with someone in his haste, the phone slipping from his grip. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, his apology rushed before he hurried up the stairs to your floor.

Jeonghan pressed the doorbell insistently, knowing you could hear it. The loud chime had often been a point of contention for you. He called out your name, his voice filled with worry, but there was no response.

In a desperate bid, he hoped that the password was still the same - your anniversary date. Fumbling to enter it, the lock clicked open, and he hurried inside. The darkness greeted him, and he quickly located the light switch. As the room flooded with light, his heart sank at the sight before him.

There you were, lying weakly on the couch, a hand pressed to your stomach which was stained with blood. Jeonghan's eyes widened in horror, fear coursing through him.

"Y/n!" Jeonghan rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he assessed your wounded stomach. It was a stab wound, and the sight filled him with dread. You were still conscious, your voice a weak whisper.

"Hold on, please..." Jeonghan's voice trembled as he dialed the emergency number, urgently requesting immediate medical assistance.

"It's Chan.." Your whisper cut through the tense air, and Jeonghan's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He wanted to kill me too.." You continued, your words coming out in strained breaths. Fatigue was starting to claim your consciousness.

"No, no, no! Stay with me, okay? Baby..." Jeonghan's voice cracked with emotion. He could feel your breaths growing heavier, and he pleaded with you to keep fighting, gently trying to coax your eyelids open.

"Baby! You can do it, okay! You're strong.. And you have to stay awake, alright? I'm right here with you." Tears streamed down Jeonghan's face, his voice desperate and filled with worry. Seeing you in this state was a pain he couldn't bear.

"It hurts.." You whispered, your voice strained with pain. Jeonghan nodded, his heart breaking for you. "I know, bear with me, okay? Take a deep breath, the medic is on their way. Please stay with me.."

Your trembling hand reached up to his cheek, brushing away the tears that fell. "I love you... I love you, Yoon Jeonghan.." The whispered confession sent a sharp pang through Jeonghan's heart. He held you tighter, feeling you grow weaker in his arms.

"I love you too, baby.. Please, stay with me." Jeonghan's voice trembled, a plea for you to hold on. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you.

As Jeonghan could hear the sound of ambulance and police sirens approaching, he scooped you up and carried you out of the house. He rushed down the stairs, desperate to get you treated as soon as possible.

"Help her, please. She's losing so much blood," he pleaded with the medic they encountered in the building.

Jeonghan met Soonyoung once they were outside the apartment complex. Soonyoung's eyes widened in shock when he saw Jeonghan covered in blood. "It's Lee Chan, he attempted to kill her. I saw him earlier on the stairs. He must still be around here. Find him!" Soonyoung swiftly directed the officers to search for Lee Chan.

Jeonghan accompanied you in the ambulance, his hand holding yours tightly as the medical team worked quickly to stabilize you.

"She has gastrointestinal tumor. There might be internal bleeding as well," Jeonghan informed the medic. As you received a blood transfusion, you began to regain consciousness. Your fingers moved slightly, and your eyelids fluttered open.

"Miss, I want you to blink your eyes if you can hear me," the medic instructed, but you didn't respond. Meanwhile, Jeonghan felt the grip of your hand tighten, and he heard you whisper his name.

"I'm here, baby. I'm always here," Jeonghan reassured you, gently rubbing your hair. Your eyes seemed heavy, but they focused on him. You mumbled something, though it was inaudible due to the respiratory device.

"Stay with me, okay," Jeonghan whispered in your ear, his grip on your hand never wavering.

"I love you," he heard you whisper, and Jeonghan nodded, his gaze locked on yours. "I know, babe. I always know. Stay with me, okay?"

You murmured more words, "be happy," before your eyes closed, and the pressure of your hand on Jeonghan's began to ease.

*

Jeonghan stood outside the sterile hospital unit, his clothes still bearing the haunting stains of your blood. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead seemed to flicker, casting an eerie glow on the sterile white walls. The passing footsteps and hushed conversations of hospital staff seemed distant, as if Jeonghan existed in a separate world altogether.

Inside that unit, you had fought a battle against the odds. The surgeons worked tirelessly, navigating the complexities of your condition. The room hummed with the controlled chaos of a medical procedure, each member of the team a skilled conductor in a symphony of life-saving efforts.

For Jeonghan, those moments outside felt like an eternity. His mind raced with thoughts of what could have been. The fragility of life, the fine line between presence and absence, weighed heavily on him. He couldn't help but replay the events in his head, each moment etched vividly in his memory.

As he waited, every passing second seemed like a gift, a silent acknowledgment of hope and gratitude. He longed for the moment he could see you again, to hear your voice and feel your warmth. The stain on his clothes, a stark reminder of the reality he almost faced, served as a somber emblem of the fragility of life.

In the midst of that sterile, fluorescent-lit corridor, Jeonghan's heart beat in rhythm with the machines inside your unit. The passage of time was marked by the soft chime of the elevator and the muted footsteps of nurses. And through it all, he held on to the promise of seeing you again, a promise that hung in the air, tangible and intangible all at once.

Your surgery went well. You had lost a significant amount of blood, and there was internal bleeding, which made the operation challenging for the medical team. Jeonghan waited anxiously outside your hospital room, still in the same clothes. The memory of almost losing you just hours ago weighed heavily on his mind.

Beomjae, accompanied by two other officers, approached Jeonghan, offering to take over his watch. "I'll do it here. You go home and freshen up. I'll call you as soon as she wakes up," he insisted. But Jeonghan sat there in silence, unable to respond to his senior's suggestion.

Taking a seat beside him, Beomjae leaned back in the chair, reminiscing about the time when you both shared the same unit three years ago, before your resignation. "I didn't know you are her boyfriend. She used to talk about you a lot," Beomjae remarked, his words tinged with a sense of realization. "I remember she once rushed home after sleeping in the office for two days, saying her boyfriend would be back after a week. It all makes sense now."

Jeonghan turned to his senior, a question lingering in his eyes. "Did she ever say anything bad about me?" he quietly asked.

Beomjae considered for a moment. "Not really bad, just... complaints, maybe? She used to complain that you were hardly ever home. You live together, right? It happens in a lot of relationships these days, I've heard."

"But things are better now, right? You're not as tied up in this unit anymore," Beomjae continued, trying to offer some reassurance.

"We actually broke up before I got transferred," Jeonghan revealed, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Beomjae nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "So that's why you were hesitant about taking on Park Haerim's case. It has been a shock for me, discovering she was the victim's daughter."

In that pregnant pause, Beomjae and Jeonghan sat in solemn understanding, the weight of the situation settling between them. Jeonghan's resolve was evident as he shook his head, his eyes filled with determination. "I don't think I could ever leave her," he declared, the strength in his voice resonating with unwavering commitment. It was a statement that held a depth of emotion beyond words, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. The air seemed to hang heavy with the weight of the moment, as if fate itself were holding its breath. Jeonghan's unwavering dedication painted a poignant portrait of his love for you, a love that transcended the boundaries of time and circumstance.

Beomjae's voice was a mix of concern and sternness as he continued, "Look, I understand you care about her, but you'll be no good to her like this. You need to clear your head and come back strong. Trust me, she'll need you at your best."

He motioned toward the exit. "Go home, clean up, and get some rest. I'll keep an eye on things here. We'll update you as soon as she wakes up."

Jeonghan hesitated for a moment, torn between his desire to stay and the practicality of Beomjae's advice. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded and headed towards the door, grateful for Beomjae's support and understanding in such a trying time.

As Jeonghan entered his apartment, a sense of detachment washed over him. It was as if he was operating on autopilot, his body moving without conscious thought. The familiar surroundings of his home felt strangely foreign, each step a blur.

The scalding water of the shower offered a harsh contrast to the numbness that had settled over him. It was a jarring awakening, the heat searing his skin and bringing him back to the present moment. The burning sensation seemed fitting, a physical echo of the emotional turmoil he had just experienced.

His eyes clenched shut, blocking out the world, but the images of the night's events were etched into his memory. The sight of you, weak and bleeding, haunted him. Tears mingled with the water, a silent release of the pent-up emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Regret hung heavy in the steam-filled air, a bitter taste in his mouth. The decision he had made three months ago, to let you go, now felt like a gaping wound. He replayed the scene in his mind, wondering if he could have fought harder, if he could have been the support you needed. The thought of you facing cancer alone, out of a misguided attempt to spare him pain, clenched his heart.

A sob escaped his lips, the sound swallowed by the rush of water. The weight of his own emotions crashed over him, a tidal wave of confusion, grief, and love. In this vulnerable moment, he found himself connecting with the pain you must have felt when you made the decision to let him go. It was a harsh awakening to the depth of his feelings, a realization that he couldn't ignore.

As the water continued to pour, Jeonghan let himself feel it all. The grief, the regret, the love — they all swirled together, mingling with the steam and disappearing down the drain. It was a painful catharsis, but one he knew he needed to face. In the midst of this emotional storm, he made a silent promise to himself — he wouldn't let fear or regret dictate his actions any longer. If there was a chance to make things right, to be there for you, he would take it.

With newfound determination, Jeonghan turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The air in his apartment felt charged with a different energy, a sense of purpose guiding his movements. He dried off and dressed, the weight on his heart now transformed into a steady resolve.

He glanced at his phone, willing it to ring with news of your condition. The minutes ticked by, each one a heartbeat in the quiet apartment. Jeonghan's thoughts were a whirlwind, but at the center of it all was a simple truth — he loved you, and he was ready to fight for you.

Jeonghan jolted from his quick slumber when his phone rang. He had been waiting for a call from Beomjae, anxious for an update about you. Instead, it was Soonyoung on the line, and he knew it must be something related to Lee Chan. Jeonghan picked up, his heart pounding.

"We've captured Chan, and we've found the knife that was used to attack her," Soonyoung's voice was steady, businesslike.

"We're going to run an interrogation. Do you want to do it, sunbae?" Soonyoung asked Jeonghan.

"I don't think I can do it, Soonyoung," Jeonghan mumbled, his voice heavy with conflicting emotions. "I might just... I might just kill him before I can even say anything." He continued, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Alright, sunbae. I'll handle it from here. Please send my regards to her," Soonyoung's voice was understanding, supportive. Jeonghan hummed in agreement and nodded, before ending the call and preparing to head to the hospital.

Beomjae was surprised to see Jeonghan's presence. "I told you I'll call you once she's awake," he said, rising from his seat as Jeonghan approached him.

"The culprit has been captured. I think Soonyoung needs you," Jeonghan explained, his voice tinged with urgency. Beomjae nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"He's informed us already. I was about to go once you were here. But, since you're here already, I'll go. These two will stand by here," Beomjae explained, gesturing to the two young officers.

Jeonghan watched Beomjae leave, his heart heavy with a mixture of relief and anxiety. He turned to the officers, gratitude in his eyes. They nodded in understanding, silently affirming their commitment to keeping watch over the room.

As Jeonghan entered your hospital room, he looked at you, still unconscious but fighting to recover. He took your hand in his, a silent promise echoing in his heart - he would be there for you, no matter what.

The soft hum of the hospital machinery provided a backdrop to the tense atmosphere in the room. Jeonghan's gaze lingered on your still form, his heart aching with a mixture of worry and determination. Every shallow rise and fall of your chest was a testament to your resilience, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and filled with unspoken affection. The room seemed to close in around him, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't help but replay the events in his mind, each moment etched with vivid clarity.

The memory of finding you, pale and bleeding, was seared into his consciousness. It was a sight that had threatened to shatter his composure, to drown him in a sea of fear and helplessness. But now, seeing you here, fighting to recover, ignited a fierce determination within him.

As he stood by your bedside, his thoughts turned to the captured assailant, Lee Chan. The mere mention of his name sent a surge of anger coursing through Jeonghan's veins. The thought of facing him in an interrogation room was almost unbearable. He knew he needed to remain composed, to let the law take its course, but the depth of his emotions threatened to consume him.

As your eyelids fluttered open, the soft light filtering through the hospital room's curtains gently greeted your senses. Jeonghan's face, etched with a mixture of relief and worry, came into focus. His eyes sparkled with a renewed hope as he met your gaze.

"You're awake," he breathed, his voice tinged with emotion. He reached for your hand, holding it with a tender grip. "I was so worried."

You managed a weak smile, your voice a fragile whisper. "I'm here, thanks to you."

Before long, Jeonghan was on the phone, urgently dialing for a doctor. They arrived swiftly, their presence a reassuring blend of professionalism and compassion. After a thorough examination, they spoke with a gentle but firm tone, emphasizing the importance of rest and recovery.

"You've shown remarkable strength," the doctor remarked, offering you a small, encouraging smile. "But your body needs time to heal. Pushing too hard too soon could set back your progress."

Jeonghan nodded, his concern for you palpable. "I'll do whatever it takes to make sure they have the time they need."

The doctor's gaze shifted to Jeonghan, a silent acknowledgment of his commitment. "That's good to hear. Keep her stress levels low, ensure she gets plenty of rest, and we'll monitor her closely. We're here to support you both."

As they left the room, Jeonghan settled back by your side, his eyes never straying far from you. "I won't leave you, not for a moment," he vowed, his voice a steady anchor in the midst of uncertainty. "You're my priority, now and always."

In the ensuing days, the hospital room became a cocoon of recovery and gentle care. Jeonghan, a steadfast presence, ensured you were never alone. He read to you, brought you small tokens of comfort, and spoke words of encouragement. The outside world felt distant, as if it could never intrude upon this sanctuary of healing.

"Did you find Chan?" You asked him with a weak voice. Jeonghan nodded solemnly, his gaze steady. "We found him, he's under investigation. We'll make sure he gets what he deserves, so you don't have to worry," he reassured you, his fingers gently running through your hair.

As the weight of the truth settled in, you whispered, "I found out he killed my mom." Your voice carried a mix of intrigue and pain, and Jeonghan, though eager for answers, didn't want to press too hard.

"You can tell me later. Your health is the priority now. You heard what the doctor said, you shouldn't stress yourself," Jeonghan urged, his concern evident in his eyes.

You shook your head softly, determination in your gaze. "I want to tell you now."

"When you asked for help to investigate my mom's case, I already had my suspicions about him. I saw the bloodstain on his shirt that night. When I called him, he claimed he was at the gym, but I knew he wasn't. He's such a perfectionist; he always goes to the gym in the morning."

Jeonghan's brow furrowed in thought. "Why do you think he did that?" His voice was low, giving you the space to share.

You considered the question carefully before speaking. "I assume he was after my mom, since I inherited all my money to her." You paused, your eyes locking with Jeonghan's. "You know my mom," you added, alluding to her penchant for younger men.

Jeonghan's eyes softened with concern as he listened to your heartfelt words. Tears streamed down your face as you poured out your heart. "I thought I could trust him. He was the only person who knew that I only have months left," you confessed, your voice choked with emotion.

Jeonghan's heart ached for you, witnessing the pain etched across your face. He gently wrapped his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry you had to go through this," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy.

As you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence, Jeonghan's mind raced with a mixture of anger towards Chan and a fierce determination to support you. He knew that trust was a fragile thing, and watching it shattered in this way cut deep.

"You deserve so much better than this," he whispered, his words a promise to stand by you, to be the rock you needed in this storm.

He reached out, gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Listen to me," he began, his voice steady and reassuring. "I understand that this is incredibly difficult for you, and I won't pretend to know exactly how you feel. But you are strong, and you've already shown incredible courage in facing this truth."

He paused, his gaze unwavering. "We're in this together, and I'll be here every step of the way. Your health is a priority, and we'll do everything we can to ensure you get the best care possible."

You looked into his eyes, grateful for his unwavering support. "I just... I don't want to be a burden to you," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know that this situation is hard for both of us."

Jeonghan's grip on your face tightened ever so slightly, his eyes filled with determination. "You are not a burden, and you never will be. We face this together, and I'm not going anywhere. You're not alone in this, and we'll find a way through."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch warm and reassuring. "We'll focus on positivity and strength. You're not defined by the circumstances, but by how you face them. And together, we can face anything that comes our way."

His words resonated deep within you, bringing a sense of comfort and resolve. With Jeonghan by your side, you felt a renewed sense of determination to navigate this difficult journey, knowing that his support would be your anchor through it all.

In that tender moment, as his lips met yours, the world seemed to stand still. His touch was gentle, yet it carried the weight of his emotions, a silent promise of unwavering support and love. The connection between you both was palpable, a language of its own that needed no words.

As he cupped your face, his touch was warm and reassuring. It was as if he was trying to convey all the comfort and solace he wished to offer you. In that intimate exchange, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that you were not alone in this journey.

The kiss was a balm to your wounded heart, a reminder that even in the face of pain and uncertainty, there was a love that would endure. It was a testament to the strength of your bond, a declaration that you would face this challenge together.

As you melted into the kiss, a profound sense of gratitude filled your heart. In Jeonghan's arms, you found a sanctuary, a place where you could be vulnerable and find strength. It was a moment that would forever be etched in your memory, a symbol of the unwavering love that would carry you through whatever lay ahead.

The tender moment seemed to stretch, suspended in time, until a voice suddenly cut through the stillness, saying, "Cut." It was the signal that the scene had been perfectly captured.

You and Jeonghan slowly parted, lingering for a moment as you exchanged a silent, knowing glance. There was a shared understanding of the significance of this scene, both in the story and in your own lives.

As the crew bustled around, wrapping up the shoot, you turned to Jeonghan, a soft smile on your lips. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. He returned the smile, his eyes warm with affection. "No, thank you," he replied, his voice just as gentle. "You've been incredible."

As you bowed to every member of the crew on the location shoot, a sense of accomplishment and gratitude filled the air. The bucket of flowers they handed to you was a tangible symbol of the hard work and dedication you and Jeonghan had poured into preparing and shooting the movie.

The director approached both of you, his embrace filled with warmth and appreciation. "I couldn't be more thankful for this," he expressed sincerely.

"The honor is ours to be able to work with you," you replied, touched by his kind words.

Jeonghan nodded in agreement. "It's been such an amazing experience."

The director's eyes twinkled with pride as he looked at both of you. "Your chemistry is undeniable. You're not secretly dating each other, right?" he joked, prompting laughter from all three of you.

After the lighthearted moment, you and Jeonghan headed to your respective rooms to change before heading home. The weight of the past days' work was felt, but it was accompanied by a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. You were both ready for a well-deserved break after the intense and rewarding experience of bringing the story to life on screen. The memories created during this shoot would be cherished forever, a testament to the incredible journey you had shared with the cast and crew.

Yoon Jeonghan: Y/n, do you have time this weekend?

Yoon Jeonghan: How about going to the camping site that you talked about that day?

Yoon Jeonghan: i'll prepare all the stuff and food!

Yoon Jeonghan: what do you think?

[captainmera]

He looked into the galderstone. It’s blue shimmer allured him. Caleb stroked the surface of it. “I’d give anything to be alive and see her again.”

this line HURTS SO MUCH especially after all that has happened in ttocw RAAAAH /pos

Ok but seriously it so much fun to go back and read TGB (especially Caleb's arc) now that we've got to see so much of how you build his character nowadays

Man some lines just hit like an emotional train like These are not my hands.” He said, curling his fingers in. “This is my thumb. And my blood. But not my life. I wouldn’t rob Hunter of his life, I know what that’s like.” yeah that whole scene where Caleb was crying in hunters body got me rolling in tears /pos

All in all it was quite entertaining to watch goofball English-man argue with the children :)

I KNOW. 😭

Not me sitting over here all "how can I make this more tragic? :)" and then build Caleb up as someone who flip-flops between trying to live day-by-day and suicidal ideation, only to find hope and freedom and everything he ever wanted. And then the consequences of his deceits and lies catches up to him and he's murdered. And then he's a ghost who haunts his brother and lives inside the hearts of Grimwalkers made in his image ---

tgb spoilers beneath

SO I ASKED MYSELF, Y'KNOW??? HOW CAN I MAKE IT WORSE? oh, I KNOW!

What if he manages to manipulate his way to an unfinished grimwalker. And gets a new body. AYE????

THAT PLAN OF HIS, YEAH? GET A NEW BODY, AYE?? AND VENGEANCE???

AYE.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT, INNIT?

So he gets a body. Luz fights Belos, defeats him. That old bugger's still going and tries to run, aye?

But instead of killing him, y'know.. Because he's done a lot of harm and edited historical documents etc, his victims needs justice, aye?

And Caleb, who blames himself for being the trigger of events for leaving, for having raised Philip and subsequently turned his brother into this maniac, feels responsible.

Caleb, who wants retribution for being robbed of his life. but also justice for Evelyn and the realm he calls home, wanting to be put to justice for his own crimes as well as Philip's, which he views as an extension of his own.

He's in this half-finished grimwalker body. Open wounds and all, managed to stagger his way to the battleground, arrives post-defeat of Belos. And just as Belos is going to pull a last power-move, Caleb's there.

And manages to trick Belos into believing he's no longer bewitched, he's free. They can take down the realm together. Belos possess him.

with this spell I declare the pain to be shared.

and locks Belos into his galderstone heart forever.

That way, Philip got what he wanted - his brother back.

Caleb gets what he wanted - to "save" his brother but also bring him to justice to face his crimes.

Like this, Caleb asks to be sentenced, to be the "guard" of his brother and be his stand-in. As a responsible big brother, he lets "belos" go to court, encaged in Caleb's heart and only let out if allowed and even then Caleb. as both blueprint and grimwalker, has the final say in how long he gets to be out.

Caleb finally gets his peace by going to jail, and can help the boiling isles regain what Belos has taken away from them. Caleb was there after all, through the eyes of grimwalkers, he knows a thing or two.

There's two sentences.

One for Belos, aka Philip Wittebane. And one for his brother, Caleb Wittebane. They are conjoined for now, and the court doesn't agree with Caleb that he should suffer the same sentence as Belos. Though it cant be helped.

But as Caleb is in control, they make accommodations in his cell. Like for example he gets a TV, and a magical window he can look through but not break so he can see the island.

He gets visitation rights, too, and mandatory therapy.

Hunter and Luz visits a lot, and once the Clawthornes find out they're related, they visit too. Old friends of Caleb's like the batqueen, visits now and then too.

Caleb spends his days learning to read and write, helping Lilith and the new government find lost documents!

It is not difficult for him to stone sleep, and he does it more often than he should probably.

To him, this prison is basically just a nice extension of his previous prison in the galderstone heart.

But he dips down to his brother. They have things to talk about, to fight about, to argue and discuss. Philip has admitted defeat and gives the information Caleb is asking of him.

The brothers love one another, but both are resentful. So it's going to take a decade or few to see eye-to-eye. But Caleb is determined to make Philip understand he's done wrong and that this punishment is justified.

"The only reason you're not dead, Pip, is because my love for you triumph the hatred and anger I have for you. I cannot forgive you, not until you are truly sorry. I need you to repent. For once in your life, admit you're not the smartest in the room 'nor the most noble. You're not." "I-" "You are not! You are but human! We are human- We aren't perfect! By god, Pip, I am not the brother 'nor man you thought or wished I was. And you are delusional to think that you are any greater than the next flawed man." "..." "You have done great evil, Pip, and you can't even see it. I need you to see it." "... If what I've done is so evil, then know I did it for you." "Why do you think I'm here?" "..." "You fool." The colourful smokes wisps up into the starry skies. Caleb looks up at the endless moving, twinkling, cosmos. It is not a normal night sky, it reminds him a bit of that Collector child's magic. But perhaps that's just the Galderstone magic looking similar. He looks down at his pouting brother, he's changed form to his young adult self. His face all crinkled up with foul thoughts. Caleb sighs. Another argument leading nowhere. But someday he'd get through to him. Someday he would. The boy he once was, was in there, somewhere, or at least so Caleb hoped. But maybe that was just an older brother's wishful thinking. He did not want to give up hope on Philip changing his ways. Perhaps it would take another 400 years to do it, but they had the time. And it's not like Philip had anybody else than Caleb and the beasts to talk to. Artemis taps around in the sand. "Ah, yes, I see you are losing to Artemis' masterful game of tic-tac-toe." Philip glances at the sand and the little pebbles. Indeed, he kept losing to the palisman. He let out a grunt. "Don't feel bad, he wins against me too. And I've gamed him for 400 years." "Mh." "...Alright, well, good night, Pip." "..." And Caleb left. Opening his eyes to the quiet of his cell. It was a nice cell, like a little flat with no privacy if someone looked in through the bars. He turned on his pillow, his soft and pleasant pillow. And saw the photograph of Evelyn by his bedside. And smiled. What wonders the modern day could conjure, huh? They took out a memory of her from him, copied it, put his memory back in his head and let him keep this copy of her - amongst other photos that donned his walls. Nearly from floor to ceiling, there were photos of his past, of Hunter and his friends, his descendants. Some posters of things he liked from the human realm and the demon realm. But near his bed, like the star on a christmas tree, was a framed picture. His Evelyn. "Oh Ev, he's stubborn." But Evelyn's photograph didn't respond. "But so am I. And he is helping, although a bit less graciously as I'd hoped. But he is giving what I'm asking for at least, with some... Persuasion." Evelyn's photo was smiling sweetly at him, and he smiled back. "Lilith is coming tomorrow, with Hunter and Amity. What do you think I should wear? Mh? Blue shirt? Red shirt? I like the red one.. It has frills!" He got lost in her eyes and cuddled down. "Yeah.. Red one." He closed his eyes to dream. "G'night Ev." And as he slept, he had another one of those dreams where she played a lyre for him. They laughed, and talked, and played in the summers and winters of his dreams. An endless forest with golden lights, her laughter, and his cheeky grins. This dream was a summer. The tulips swayed in the breeze. Caleb liked to think those dreams were her ghost visiting him. After all, he'd been a ghost for centuries, he knew what they could do. Entering dreams were one of many perks. He had his hell in his galderheart, his heaven in his dreams. He was at peace.

[perpetualexistence]

Me? Come up with an idea for a fic based on a reblog chain with @total-drama-brainrot? It's more likely than you think.

I can't help but imagine Alejandro does try to use unconditional love/affection as a new emotional manipulation tactic against his brother José...except doing so ends up opening the can of worms that is their fucked up relationship as it forces both of them to self reflect on it. Featuring Carlos getting himself involved and that opening a whole different can of unresolved trauma. Also featuring Team CIRRRH showing at least one, possible three idiots what actual healthy sibling dynamics look like.

When will I write this fic? Uh....

...It'll happen when it happens. I'll probably just focus on getting everything I have out about the Sea Monster AU before going into writing any actual fic in too much detail. More is coming I swear, editing my ADHD-possessed rambles into something cohesive and more fleshed than I originally planed.

That first story post? Originally I was just supposed to copy and paste a single paragraph I already had written out about Noah and Alejandro's first meeting and the subsequent reversing of tables. Instead I ended up building lore for the unnamed town Noah lives in (names are hard, watch that be literally the last thing I come up with), foreshadowing Alejandro's true intentions, and writing one of the scenes that the whole AU was based off of.

The writing session was incredible. And I can now see places where I can still improve my work as I'm understanding how editing works. It also led to me getting exactly three hours of sleep because I had work the next day. There's got to be a better balance here. Part 2: Noah Makes a Deal With an Eel gets here when I semi-find a balance. (Also, I literally just came up with that name as I was typing and I'm rather proud of myself.

ANYWAYS, if you are curious about any of the other aus, please do ask. They range from me having paragraphs of ideas to having a single sentence of an idea. I'd love to bounce ideas off of people rather than hold my IRL best friend who's never watched Total Drama in her life hostage. (Don't worry, she holds me hostage over explaining Dislyte ideas when I've never played it before. It's Mutual Stockholm Syndrome.)

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Proposed fact checking website/blog by u/Larushka

Proposed fact checking website/blog Several sinners, me included, really want to see these two reap their rewards for all their lies. It was suggested that maybe a website/blog with actual facts compared to what they said, where they’ve changed facts, where statements are made out of context, etc. Seeing as there is currently no main stream journalist willing to actually challenge them, I was thinking that we could create a space where all of their lies and deception are listed.This would need to be professional and fact based with PRIMARY source links. It should be in chronological order. It could be based on the timeline I just posted separately, and that would give us a good framework to begin.https://ift.tt/WMYTlmA also think it should include any time they’ve put out misleading press, stolen valor, puff pieces etc. - anything where they’ve manipulated the truth. Also all the quotes Meghan has incorporated into her speeches but failed to attribute to the original source.Sadly, ill health prevents me from taking this on myself, but I would be more than willing to contribute some time and effort, and I’m pretty sure there must be loads of others here who’d be willing to help, just waiting for those two to get their just desserts.It would need to be chronological (I just posted a timeline), proof-read, fact checked, edited and scanned with a legal eye. It must look professional.If we can create something like this, I’m pretty confident that we could attract the attention of the real royal reporters like Richard Eden and Rebecca English. At this point I’m also sure Dan Wootton, Sharon Osbourne and even Piers Morgan would be on board. And most certainly the Australian press and Megyn Kelly.I’ve followed the Royal family all my life - much more intensely since Meghan came on the scene. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time trying to come to grips with how this horrible person is seemingly untouchable by the mainstream press. I used to think, like many of us, that Harry was a nice guy. To me, one of the best things that Meghan’s presence has done, is show us who Harry really is.There is nothing more I’d like at this point to revel in some well deserved schadenfreude.https://ift.tt/SJMTriA since we know for sure that sugars, YouTubers, et al read this sub, and Meghan’s propensity to clap back about online truths, and subsequently manipulate the SEO, it would be interesting to watch this evolve in real time.So what do you think fellow sinners? Is there anyone out there with the time and wherewithal to spearhead this? Thoughts? post link: https://ift.tt/c6PmNTR author: Larushka submitted: March 10, 2024 at 09:27PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[vague-humanoid]

Hamdi Mohamud, then a 16-year-old refugee from Somalia, found herself caught up in that scheme in 2011, when one of Weyker's witnesses, Muna Abdulkadir, tried to attack her and her friends at knifepoint. Mohamud called the police, and Weyker intervened—on behalf of Abdulkadir. She arrested Mohamud and her friends for allegedly tampering with a federal witness, and Mohamud subsequently spent two years in jail before the trumped-up charges were dismissed.

While Mohamud lost those two years of her life, Weyker has not paid any price—not in spite of her position, but because of it. Since the officer conducted her investigation as part of a federal task force, she is entitled to absolute immunity and cannot be sued, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 8th Circuit ruled last year.

It's not because the "sex trafficking" investigation—which consisted of Weyker conjuring fake information, editing police reports, fabricating evidence, and lying under oath, among other things—was legitimate. On the contrary, the court says it was "plagued with problems from the start" and notes that Weyker employed "lies and manipulation" to put people behind bars. Legally speaking, none of that matters.

What does matter is a line of Supreme Court jurisprudence that has made suing a rights-violating federal officer almost out of the question. Had Weyker acted in her capacity as a state or local cop, Mohamud would have been permitted to bring her claim before a jury of her peers. Yet the most powerful officers are held to the lowest standard of accountability.

Mohamud hopes to change that standard by asking the Supreme Court to hear her case, which she made official last week.

The problem here isn't qualified immunity, the doctrine that shields police officers and other state actors from federal civil suits unless the way the government violated your rights has been litigated almost exactly in a prior court precedent. That's an onerous standard to meet. It has, for example, protected two police officers who allegedly stole $225,000 while executing a search warrant, because no prior court ruling had said stealing in those circumstances is unconstitutional. The legal principle has been at the center of criminal justice reform efforts over the last year.

But Mohamud cleared that hurdle. The United States District Court for the District of Minnesota ruled that Weyker's actions so clearly made a mockery of the Constitution that she could not skirt the suit. The 8th Circuit then overturned that decision on appeal, citing Weyker's temporary federal badge, while in the same breath acknowledging the depravity of her actions.

"Qualified immunity makes it very, very difficult to sue government officials," says Patrick Jaicomo, an attorney at the Institute for Justice, the libertarian public interest law firm representing Mohamud. "This makes it impossible."

There's a Supreme Court decision that should, in theory, give Mohamud the avenue to redress she needs. In Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics (1971), the high court allowed a victim to go before a jury after federal cops conducted a drug raid on his apartment without a warrant and later strip-searched him at the courthouse.

But since then the Court has undermined its own decision in almost comical ways. In 2017, the justices ruled in Ziglar v. Abbasi that lower courts should pinpoint "special factors counseling hesitation" when considering suits against federal cops. In practice, that has meant just about whatever a judge can cook up.

@chrisdornerfanclub @el-shab-hussein

[pluckyredhead]

Editing The Lost Titans

I get asks about writing advice/craft/tips occasionally, and I always feel a little inadequate when I answer them. While I try to be very disciplined and methodical about my original writing, when it comes to fic, it's something I do for fun and for free, so my method is mainly slapping my hands on the keyboard like a seal until self-indulgence comes out. It's rare that I outline fic or make significant edits, so it's hard for me to point to specific examples.

However! While I was writing The Lost TItans, I did a bunch of major edits - throwing away entire scenes, revising large chunks, adding an entire chapter after the first draft was done. More importantly, all of those edits had really clear reasons they needed to be made, rather than me going "Eh...it's just not right," which means I can actually explain my thought process without just waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the vibes. So I thought I'd write about what edits I made and why, in case it's interesting or useful to anyone. (And if not, who doesn't like navel gazing?)

The original opening scene was entirely different. It served the same purpose - it was still a dream showing the Titans Red world - but instead of all the Titans fighting the HIVE, it was Jason having lunch on the Star City University campus with Toni and Grant. Then, just as in the finished fic, Jason wakes up at Roy's house and talks about the dream over breakfast.

Now don't get me wrong, I loved writing that original opening scene. I love Toni and Grant, I was already invested in this alternate timeline, so getting to play with these characters interacting was super fun for me.

But it wouldn't have been fun for anyone else. Most of my readers wouldn't know who Toni and Grant were, and literally no one would be invested in their relationships with Jason, because I was inventing those out of whole cloth. Also, because the other four members of the team weren't there, it was just tons of exposition of who these characters were, what their team history was, etc. etc. Rose's joke about Roy being like a cool camp counselor was originally from this scene, but because Rose isn't in the scene, it's a joke being exposited rather than told. There was nothing to engage a reader who wasn't me, and also a lot of what was being shown in the scene - that these characters attended the same college - wasn't necessary information (as you can tell by the fact that in the final fic, that isn't even true).

So I cut the scene entirely and replaced it with the opening fight scene. (And obviously made the necessary edits to the subsequent conversation with Roy.) It's much more high energy, and more importantly: it gets the whole team on the page, it shows that they are a team rather than just telling you, and hopefully the banter gets you invested in their dynamic. They're pals being goofy together! I sure hope these are real relationships and not Hank Hall's weird manipulative RPF!

2. The third scene, dinner at Ollie's, originally opened with Roy, Lian, and Jason arriving at Ollie's and all the different Arrowfamily members getting little bits of dialogue or whatever before it was supposed to cut to the flashback of Jason butting heads with Bruce in Gotham. I was actually in the middle of this scene and stalled out for a while before I realized I needed to a) scrap the opening scene like I mentioned above and b) scrap this one, too. Often when I find I'm just stuck and not going anywhere, it's for reasons like this - the scene I'm writing isn't the right one.

In this case, it was similar to the Grant and Toni scene above - I was having a great time writing the Arrowfam, but the scene wasn't actually contributing anything to the fic. The point of this entire sequence was to show Jason's fraught relationship with his own family, and hint that Connor was experiencing the same dreams as Jason. Random banter with Mia or whoever was just getting in the way of the crucial information. I cleared all of the Arrowfamily stuff out of the beginning of this sequence, jumped straight to Gotham, and then used the birthday cake scene to contrast Jason's relationship with the Bats to his relationship with the Arrows, as well as drop that Connor hint.

I want to be really clear here, because I feel like people get defensive about the idea of cutting scenes that "aren't doing anything" or "don't move the plot forward." I didn't cut these scenes because they were quiet or character-driven. Jason and Roy having breakfast is quiet and character-driven. The whole fic is character-driven. I cut the scenes that I cut because they literally served zero purpose except having various characters go "Hello, I exist and I have a relationship to Jason." I replaced them with scenes that did that, and also moved the plot forward, and also made you care about those relationships, and also were fun to read. Please don't feel bad for those scenes because they got cut; they are a collection of words and don't have feelings.

3. The scene where Rose rescues Jason and Connor from Sudden Death got I would say a medium level of revision, in that the beats are all the same but they weren't originally fighting Sudden Death. Initially I just had them dealing with two members from opposite sides of a gang war, and the scene was pretty terrible but it got me where I needed to be, so I left it and finished the first draft of the whole fic.

When I went back in revisions, I realized that in using the gang war hook, I was once again spending time on something - in this case, the intricacies of crime in Star City - that had nothing to do with the fic. This is an easy trap to fall into: I needed to introduce Rose in a fun, badass way, while Jason and Connor were already hanging out, so having her save them while they were on patrol was perfect. It didn't matter who they were fighting, so I put in some generic goons.

But then I had to justify why said goons required three superheroes (four, if you count Roy) to defeat them, and also set up why they were there in the first place, and it just became a long derailment from the story I was trying to tell, with nothing inherently entertaining about it to justify it.

Swapping the goons for Sudden Death meant I could significantly streamline the "why" of the scene: he's a supervillain doing supervillain shit, case closed (although there's still a nod to him working with Brick, a Star City crime lord, to explain why he's in town). His dumb surfer shtick is more entertaining to read than generic goon dialogue. And he's a Hawk and Dove villain, which meant the scene served three purposes now: giving Rose a grand entrance, humor, and foreshadowing. Boom.

4. The scene where Jason and Roy kiss got a pretty thorough second pass. This one is the least helpful one to talk about, I think, because it really was just honing the vibes. I wanted to increase the tension between them, that slow pull drawing them closer, so I put in more about their respective positioning in the room, the way the room looks and feels, little physical details of Roy. If I make the setting more palpable, I make the tension more palpable - or at least, that's the theory I'm working with here.

5. The climax got a MAJOR overhaul. Initially, Hank returned Roy and took him away again, Jason had the team attack him, and there was a whole thing with the team fruitlessly fighting against all these hypertime variants of Hank. Only then did Koryak suggest they stay in the Titans Red universe.

I'd written it that way because...well, it was a superhero fic, it felt like it needed some kind of physical confrontation at the end. But this version of Hank is so powerful that there wasn't actually anything the Titans could do, which made the fight not particularly engaging. It also didn't really make sense for him to be attacked by Koryak, Grant, and Eddie, who were kind of on his side, or Jason, who was torn.

Instead, I nixed the physical fight, and made the actual conflict between the team members, which is the conflict that really matters. I also made that fight much more painful. The argument was already there in the first draft, but the truly cruel lines - Koryak's comment about Rose's mom, what Grant says to Toni - came in the second pass. Because the stakes here aren't really whether they can beat Hank; it's their friendship, and the balance between what they give up by going home, and what they give up by staying in the dream. I needed that decision to hurt, and failing to punch Hank Hall in the face wouldn't accomplish that.

6. I essentially added an entire chapter in revisions. Originally the fic went: Eddie sacrifices himself -> quick paragraph sending everyone home -> Jason and Roy get together -> team reassembles to rescue Eddie. It felt rushed and completely unsatisfying. I had been focused on resolving the plot points directly involving Jason, because he's the POV character, but I'd spent so long on all of the various team relationships that I had to at least give each character a proper send-off.

So I added the scene at the JSA brownstone. I let Grant and Toni make up, gave Grant his happy ending, and hinted at Toni's. I gave Koryak and Rose exit lines, and hinted that Jason thinks of Connor as family and part of what "home" means. I added the Tim scene because I needed to balance the beginning of the fic, and because if Jason was making the choice to return to a world with a fraught family dynamic, I needed to show that dynamic on page. I was worried that it would feel like I was drawing out the end too long after the Big Bad was defeated, but I think all of those scenes feel necessary and (hopefully) healing.

Anyway, hopefully this was interesting and maybe helpful! I find craft super interesting but it can be hard to talk about in concrete ways, so I wanted to get all this down on (digital) paper as clear examples I could point to when people ask.

[dracodazaii]

The Green Queen And A Greener Future

Chapter 2

ao3 edition

King Viserys had sent for her to meet in his chambers once more.

Alicent tempered herself and quietly prepared to speak to the man who ruined her life in his pursuit to resolve his guilt for the butchering of Aemma Arryn. Yet she knew that for Aegon’s sake, for Helaena and the poor children, she couldn’t act rashly. Alicent had to act the way she was brought up to be: an obedient maiden, yet she knew that as a supposed submissive maiden, she could also manipulate and control a weak man the likes of Viserys, and influence his frail mind to finally give her children what they deserve.

As she reached the guarded door, King Viserys stood upright, welcoming Alicent to his chambers.

“Lady Alicent, please sit down.” He states and they both gather at his model of Valyria, Alicent sitting idly and awkwardly, unsure of how to speak the man that ruined her livelihood.

This was the neglectful coward that haunted her. The man whose twisted guilt tore their family, and Westeros as a whole, apart all to appease his impudent daughter who he abandoned in his pursuit for a son.

“My King,” She stammered, the confrontation of Viserys causing a lapse in her mind, making it hard to manipulate this pathetic man for her cause. “Forgive me, but I was blindsided by you picking me as your new wife.” The Hightower women uttered, after all, Viserys was unaware of the true intention of Otto Hightower regarding Alicent’s meetings with him, which were innocent in their outward nature and he never told Alicent of her perverse feelings toward her.

King Viserys looked upward at her finally, a confused bewilderment on his face, as if only now realising that Alicent had her own thoughts and perhaps did not wish to be married to the King. “Lady Alicent, I’ll admit I was too hasty in declaring my intentions, but I enjoyed our conversations about Valyria, and I believe that you would make a good Queen.”

The future Green Queen replies hastily, portraying her truthful shame regarding Rhaenyra’s inclusion in their courtship of betrayal, “Thank you, My King. But I’m worried about Rhaenyra. She confronted me just before I arrived here. As I’m her close friend, she feels betrayed that her father proposed to me.” Alicent then has a moment of realisation.

She could begin her destruction of Rhaenyra in the mind of Viserys now. By planting a seed in his mind that Rhaenyra wasn’t the perfect respectful heir, he falsely believes she can become.

The Hightower maiden continues acting mortified and utters Rhaenyra’s insults, “She even called me immoral words I can’t dare speak aloud.”

The Targaryen Patriarch’s face hardens with anger, “Alicent, it’s okay you can tell me exactly what she said.” he instructed, playing into Alicent’s scheming hands.

“She called me a scheming harlot!” The Hightower girl ushers out rapidly, “I was so scared, she shamed me publicly, I am glad nobody was present but Rhaenyra’s words might ruin me if she continues believing this.”

Viserys’ fuming expression continued, reddening in anger, “I must deal with her.”

“Alicent, I have to cut our time short and speak to my daughter, I’ll see you soon, my wife-to-be.” He states, briefly pausing his animosity to glance at Alicent with love in his gaze, as he grasps her hand carefully portraying his fleeting fondness for the young maiden before striding out of his chambers, intent encompassing his angered stride.

Alicent now was left alone in his chambers with her thoughts. She had finally confronted her neglectful husband, the man who excessively indulged Rhaenyra’s heedless actions and ignored the family he desired so heavily.

All that was left now, was to marry Viserys.

And Alicent subsequently could begin her plan and consolidate her own power-base, away from the hands of the men who destroyed her innocence.

———————————

It was time for the greatest wedding of many years to occur in Westeros today.

Alicent Hightower was to join the Royal Household, and after months of subtle manipulation toward King Viserys, Alicent knew that once the wedding ceremony had occurred that she would be relegated the duties of a strong Queen with authority and responsibilities and finally have the power she needed to protect her children’s lives.

She glanced down at herself, wearing a beautiful dress unlike her previous wedding; she didn’t want to portray herself as a submissive little girl. She wanted to illustrate the power women had the ability to hold, while claiming her femininity. The gown was lustrous and elegant, stitched and sewn with the colours of the Targaryen House, yet Alicent almost in a sneaky manner, contained the colours that dictated her life once before, emerald green earings dangling and a viridescent necklace framing her frail collarbones.

Her father, Otto Hightower stood beside her, his eyes portraying a rare softness flickering on his countenance, “You look just like your mother.”

“I’m so proud of you, my darling daughter.” the typically solemn man outwardly betrayed his emotions, rushing Alicent into a hug, lingering on for a moment too long.

Regret glistened in his eyes for a small moment, before Alicent muttered half-false platitudes, both comforting her father truthfully, understanding that the man did what he believed was right for their families standing, yet also feeling betrayed that she was used in his goals, razing her innocence to the ground.

The father and daughter then walked together side-by-side, the daunting gates of The Sept Of Baelor lumbering into their view as they entered in, meeting the gaze of a multitude of nobles glancing their way, eager to gather a glimpse at the Hightowers, wanting to see the true power behind the throne and longing to ally themselves with the Queen and the Hand.

Alicent had then reached her husband-to-be, standing together as she heard the High Septon give his prayers and instruct her father to remove her maidencloak, shades of smoky silver with a sliver of green embroidered within removed from the shoulders of the maiden, now temporarily bare as King Viserys placed onto her youthful frame a cloak of his own house colours: red and black, signifying the passing of Alicent’s protection into the hands of Viserys from his Hand.

The Hightower Queen-to-be idly listened to the High Septon, words flickering in-and-out her mind as she recalled how tense her previous wedding had felt with anxiety and regret in following her father’s orders.

She then heard the Most Devout man instruct her and Viserys to speak aloud their vows in the name of The Seven.

They both verbalised the holy words, “With this kiss I pledge my love” subsequently pausing with Viserys Targaryen giving the Hightower girl a brief kiss.

Thereafter they spoke once more, their speeches then diverting in words, Alicent enunciated “…and take you for my lord and husband” spoken concurrently with King Viserys who exclaimed “..and take you for my lady and wife”.

The newly-wed spouses then ended their ceremonial vows with the Septon declaring them to be “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” Alicent’s thoughts turned melancholy, knowing the High Septons words were false and King Viserys would rather reminisce on the wife he butchered than the women who birthed him four children and cared for his ailing body.

The Spouse then subsequently walked onwards to sit at the extravagant table surrounded by a clutter of their relatives and a multitude of nobles all scurrying for the attention and allyship of their Queen.

Rhaenyra looking snidely, anger pulsing in her veins, witnessing her closest friend marry her father moons after her mother’s death. Alicent could sympathise with Rhaenyra but didn’t care as the Princess had proven herself a hypocrite, seducing Daemon at his wife’s funeral and marrying him only a moon after Laenor’s suspicious death.

Alicent felt fit to ignore her ire, instead focusing on gaining strong allegiances in the Great Noble houses.

The grand feast was to commence. The Queen deciding to use it as one of the latest ventures of Alicents to gain nobility to join her in affiliation to the Team Green side.

She will not let Rhaenyra even have the possibility to have the option to create a foothold in the courts of Kingslanding and gain influence in Westeros. Though she has love for Rhaenyra deep inside her heart, the Green Queen knows that she cannot allow this reckless hubristic princess, who never grew out of her spoiled girlhood to possess the title and political standing which Aegon deserves. Rhaenyra Targaryen believes that she has the right to be Queen solely because of Viserys’ pitiful actions yet treats herself as the exception, unwilling to uphold this succession of hypocrisy toward other women who have brothers and uncles taking precedent over them.

As the extravagant feast commenced, Viserys indulging in piles of meaty goods given by servants and barrels of luscious burgundy wine, Alicent descended downwards to the other nobles in the ballroom, greeting her cousin on her mother’s side, the Lady Margarey Redwyne, eldest daughter of Helene Hightower nee Redwyne’s brother and her younger sister Delena Redwyne, a maiden matching Alicent in age.

Giving a respectful bow, Lady Margarey congratulates her cousin in a joyful tone, spreading platitudes of falsity, understanding that Alicent’s true wish was to marry a handsome knight who loved her deeply.

A women encased in green gathers toward them, slight jealousy in her eyes. Rose Tyrell addresses the women with meaningless positive trite, possibly believing the Hightowers to be overtaking their Liege Lord.

As Alicent traded words with her relatives and fellow women of the Reach envious of her position yet vying for her attention, Jason Lannister strided over, arrogance permeating in his steps.

“Ah, here lays the Queen of Westeros!” He roared jubilantly, drunkness clear in his actions. “And who are these ladies with you, Queen Alicent?” He asks after a brief pause, intrigue laying in his eyes.

The Hightower women knew this was her time to strike, time to gain allies and consolidate her power quickly, no time for dilly-dallying in her pursuit of the Targaryen Princesses’ love; no ignoring the importance of the years before Rhaenyra marries, before she can get her own heir.

“Here lies my dearest cousins, Lady Margarey and her sister Lady Delena. And the Lady Rose Tyrell.” The Hightower women declares, set on gaining allies through marriage and not solely relying on the nobility’s reluctance to have a woman as heir. “They are wondering what being a courted lady and wife is like for me as they aren’t betrothed as of yet.”

Alicent stops in a false pause, deciding to introduce an influential position to her cousins, “I believe I may make my cousins my lady-in-waitings if they wish to join me here in Kingslanding but their father may believe giving me responsibility over their betrothals is too hearty of a decision.” Jason’s eyes gleam in intrigue, clearly susceptible to Alicent’s manipulation in presenting the idea of marriage in his mind.

“Ah, I see.” The golden-haired man spoke calmly, clearly intrigued by the influential ladies but not wanting to involve himself with the flowery words of maiden, unfit for men. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to discuss, I believe my brother is looking for me.” He murmurs, looking for an excuse to vacate and discuss potential allegiances with his brother of higher intelligence, Tyland Lannister.

The women now alone in their small gathering in the Royal Ballroom, not being interrupted by the increasingly drunken hordes of men intent of celebration. “Oh, I forgot to ask!” The Hightower Queen declares insincerely, “Lady Rose, would your father allow you to be my lady-in-waiting, having a woman like you join the Women’s Courts in Kingslanding would be a joy!” Alicent intent on turning the Tyrells onto her side, as they were neutral during the war, unwilling to join Rhaenyra in her cause yet also reluctant to join what they perceived were their overreaching bannermen.

Just as Rose Tyrell murmured regarding her father being likely to agree, and eruption of roaring materialised, illustrating that the celebration was over.

It was time for the dreadful bedding ceremony, yet that was not the significant event haunting Alicent, for she would also have to lose her maidenhead to King Viserys, much more haunting than confronting vulgar, raucous men. However Alicent was at least thankful that the Viserys of this time was not the crumbling rotting corpse of a man but instead was fairly handsome, the only deterring factor of his being his age coinciding closer to ber father, rather than herself.

Waves of men and women, drunk on mead and wind stormed in excitement, gathering in hordes to cluster around the spouses, pushing them toward their bedding chambers.

Alicent and Viserys had arrived, clothes halfheartedly torn away and stumbled into their room, decorated intricately by servants to portray an elegant facade, hiding away the true perception Alicent had regarding this monumentous event.

King Viserys and his new wife, Queen Alicent had officially consummated their marriage, unlike the untoward perceptions of Rhaenyra.

Whilst her maidenblood struck the bedsheets, Alicent prayed to the Gods, praying to the Seven and especially to the Mother, in the hopes that her dear firstborn was on his way, and that she could make up for her detrimental mistakes and instead give him the love she truly felt for him, instead of screaming at him in pressure regarding their duties.

All this was for her children.

Alicent no longer cares for the false duties her father gives her, but instead is acting in pursuit of her dear children.

Aegon her firstborn depressed due to the pressure Otto placed on them.

Aemond her dutiful boy, yet angered and susceptible to taunts.

And Helaena, her ethereal darling, whispering words that had once seemed nonsensical, and caring for her sweet babies.

[science-sculpt]

Evolution of Gene Therapy: A Journey Through History

Gene therapy stands as one of the most promising frontiers in modern medicine, offering potential solutions to a myriad of genetic disorders and diseases. Its journey through history is both fascinating and complex, marked by remarkable breakthroughs, challenges, and ethical considerations.

The concept of manipulating genetic material to treat diseases dates back to the mid-20th century. In 1953, the discovery of the DNA double helix structure by Watson and Crick ignited the imagination of scientists worldwide, laying the foundation for genetic research. It wasn't until the 1970s that the term "gene therapy" emerged, coined by researchers Richard Mulligan and Theodore Friedmann. The 1980s marked the first foray of gene therapy into the clinical realm. The 1970s witnessed the first milestone in gene therapy with the successful introduction of foreign DNA into mammalian cells. This breakthrough, accomplished by Paul Berg in 1972, laid the groundwork for subsequent research endeavors. In 1980, Martin Cline performed the first gene therapy trial on a patient with beta-thalassemia, though ethical concerns arose due to the lack of proper patient consent and scientific rigor. Despite setbacks, the 1990s saw a surge of research, with gene therapy trials targeting various conditions like cystic fibrosis and severe combined immunodeficiency. However, tragic events, such as the tragic death of a young teenager in 1999, a young participant in a 1999 gene therapy trial, highlighted the need for stringent safety measures.

One of the landmark achievements in gene therapy occurred in 1990 when the first successful gene therapy trial took place. Researchers corrected a rare genetic disorder called Adenosine deaminase (ADA) deficiency in two young girls. This groundbreaking feat marked a crucial turning point, demonstrating the potential of gene therapy to treat genetic diseases.

Luxturna became the first gene therapy approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in 2017 for the treatment of an inherited retinal disease called Leber congenital amaurosis. This milestone underscored the therapeutic potential of gene therapy and paved the way for future advancements. The development of CRISPR-Cas9 revolutionized the field of gene editing, offering a versatile and precise tool for modifying DNA. This breakthrough has accelerated research in gene therapy and holds immense promise for the treatment of genetic diseases.

Gene therapy isn't a monolith; it dons various hats depending on the target and approach. Here are the major types:

Somatic vs. Germline: Somatic gene therapy: This targets non-reproductive (somatic) cells, impacting only the treated individual's lifespan and not passing changes onto offspring. This is the more prevalent and ethically accepted approach. Germline gene therapy: This modifies genes in reproductive cells, potentially impacting future generations. Ethical and safety concerns surround this approach, and it is not currently used in humans.

Ex Vivo vs. In Vivo: Ex Vivo gene therapy: Cells are extracted from the patient, modified in a laboratory, and then reintroduced. This allows for precise targeting but involves complex procedures. In Vivo gene therapy: The therapeutic gene is delivered directly to the target cells within the body. This offers minimally invasive approaches but poses challenges in targeting specific cells.

Gene Editing vs. Gene Replacement: Gene editing: Utilizes tools like CRISPR to modify existing genes, correcting mutations or fine-tuning their expression. This offers unparalleled precision but raises concerns about unintended consequences. Gene replacement: Introduces a functional copy of a missing or defective gene into the cells, restoring their normal function. This approach is well-established but may require permanent expression of the new gene.

The journey of gene therapy from its conceptual origins to clinical reality is a testament to human ingenuity and perseverance. With each passing year, advancements in technology and scientific understanding propel this field forward, offering hope to millions affected by genetic disorders. The evolution of gene therapy is a testament to human ingenuity and perseverance in the quest to conquer genetic diseases. From humble beginnings to cutting-edge innovations, the journey of gene therapy has been marked by triumphs and challenges alike. As researchers continue to unravel the complexities of the genome and refine therapeutic approaches, the future of gene therapy shines brighter than ever, holding the promise of transformative treatments and cures for diseases once deemed incurable.

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed: I Am What I Am

I Am What I Am is the exact sort of pleasant surprise that defines Japan Cuts for me. The synopsis on the festival website led me to believe that it would be a somewhat overwrought melodrama; what I got instead was a delightfully unconventional, subversive romcom that omits the “romance” entirely.

The plot revolves around Kasumi Sobata, an asexual thirty-year-old struggling to navigate the pressures of a society that expects women her age to quit their jobs, get married, and have a bunch of kids. Unfortunately, her family practically epitomizes conformity and traditional gender roles. Her heavily pregnant sister, for example, dutifully ignores the warning signs that her husband might be unfaithful. Her grandmother, meanwhile—fresh off her third divorce—insists that a “proper” wife should accept infidelity as an inevitability. Worst of all, her mother—misconstruing her lack of a love life as evidence of depression—frequently sets her up on impromptu “dates” with “eligible bachelors,” hoping to force the issue of wedded bliss through manipulation, subterfuge, and sheer tenacity.

The conflict ventures far beyond the tropes typically associated with the genre. The primary “obstacle” isn’t the protagonist’s reluctance to abandon her own ambitions (though that is a secondary concern); her very identity is at stake. Whenever she admits that she is incapable of experiencing physical attraction, her feelings are immediately dismissed, invalidated, and trivialized. A male friend, for instance, assumes that she is merely making an excuse to “politely” reject his (abrupt, clumsy) flirtatious advances; he subsequently ends their platonic relationship.

The movie’s visual style is simple, yet elegant. Most scenes unfold from a single camera angle, with only minor adjustments to the frame: a pan here, a lateral dolly move there, the occasional slow push-in. This minimalism prioritizes behavior rather than action, allowing the performances (as opposed to the editing) to guide the rhythm of the narrative—and the actors absolutely deliver in that regard! Toko Miura is particularly compelling as our hapless heroine; whereas the character that she portrayed in Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car was cold, aloof, and taciturn, Kasumi is sensitive, affable, and effortlessly funny—an impressive display of versatility.

Ultimately, I Am What I Am is a triumph of representation. It explicitly assures ace viewers that they are neither defective nor alone, encouraging them to express themselves freely and unapologetically—after all, no human being (queer or otherwise) should have to justify their existence; everybody deserves basic respect and dignity. The message is unsubtle by design—and that thematic transparency significantly deepens the film’s emotional resonance.

[weltonlasso]

can confirm the Brendan interview helps with the grieving process. like don’t get me wrong im still mad as shit but the like PIT in my stomach has lessened and the gaping hole in my chest is gone. (I thought if I misinterpreted Ted/Rebecca i couldn’t trust myself) but Brendan really doubled down and said Beard and Jane aren’t toxic, she’s not manipulative and abusive! THEN he double-doubled down and said it was an intentional choice not to have Ted at his best (and truly ONLY) friends wedding cause he’s busy with soccer practice (but this was not said in jest-fuckhead was dead serious). AND THEN then they let Beard and Jane wed with the red string of fate WHILE pregnant. AFTER THE SHOW TEASED THAT STRING OF FATE TO TR AND WROTE REBECCA WANTING TO BE A MOM.

and for the BIG FINALE he said that WE were conditioned to see those connections and to expect a relationship between Ted and Rebecca through years of M/F lead media. Sorry but that’s fucking rude and GROSSSSSSS!!!!! someone needs to get him logged out of Reddit. what a fucking slap in the face to us AND their own writing. What he is describing is literally the opposite of the entire narrative for me, so I literally can’t be bothered to care it they don’t. it seems like we watched two entirely different programs so why not treat it as such. My cannon is mine based on the exposition and character development with deep connections and meaningful relationships and idk just legitimately paying attention to the writing/directing/editing/acting choices that were made.

Like are the creators really so fucking far removed from their final product that they can’t see the collective of the story they’ve put together?

Someone ask them to go back and rewatch the show from the beginning and then come tell me they thought season 3 actually was good or even decent. And give me legitimate reasons for everyones stories being “subverted” and confirm that all of those final storylines make sense

because they DO NOT if you’ve followed the story from the beginning. Or even this season. Like legit the BEST storyline this season was the Jamie growth and Jamie/Roy relationship evolution. Lol what a gross take for them to end that with them regressing back to “dumb men” over Keeley. this season literally feels like every episode was written by someone who subsequently forgets to tell next weeks guy about his main plot points. the audience is watching and waiting to connect the storyline/ arcs together.

Idk idk man but im fine with it being trash if they are!!!!

Emmy winner Ted Lasso put out a pedestrian finale to appease a casual viewer and allow the writers to ignore storylines from the episodes they clearly didn’t have time to read.

In my head, in our collective blogging, and in fanfic we have truly captured a deeper more beautiful story than what they made. Their ideas were too pedestrian, but we saw two middle aged people, damaged in almost opposite ways, beautifully come into each others lives for the better, and fill them up in all the ways they were missing, like puzzle pieces. We allowed them to be themselves and LOVE themselves and to choose themselves and their wants and happinesses. And they can do it together. After every similar traumatic backstory and all of the same HURT we had to witness these two go through. They deserved happy and they deserved it together. Sorry the creators missed out on that. It was incredible.

[beardedmrbean]

Celebrities who took part in the online frenzy of Kate rumours and conspiracy theories are apologising following the Princess of Wales’s cancer diagnosis.

In a moving video released on Friday, Kate revealed that she’d been undergoing chemotherapy in the wake of major abdominal surgery in January, which led to cancer cells being found in subsequent tests.

At the time, Kate’s condition was not disclosed to the public, and the release of a photoshopped image of the princess and her children exacerbated the spread of conspiracy theories speculating on the reason behind her low profile.

Actor Blake Lively was one of the first to apologise for partaking in the frenzy, referring to a now-deleted post that seemingly poked fun at Kate posting an edited picture of her family for Mother’s Day.

Posting on an Instagram Story on Friday (22 March), the Gossip Girl star wrote: “I’m sure no one cares today but I feel I have to acknowledge this.

“I made a silly post around the ‘photoshop fails’ frenzy and, oh, man, that post has me mortified today. I’m sorry.”

The Age of Adaline actor had made an Instagram post announcing an update for her alcohol brand on 15 March, when she made a subtle nod to the photoshopped family photo.

Lively’s post showed a photo of her head conspicuously photoshopped onto a distorted woman’s body lounging by a pool, with one of her Betty Buzz drinks in hand. Seemingly poking fun at rumours over Kate’s whereabouts, Lively added in the post, “Now you know why I’ve been MIA.”

Journalist and political activist Owen Jones has also expressed regret for adding to commentary on Kate’s whereabouts.

After photo agencies pulled the photoshopped family picture, Jones remarked on the “kill notice” with: “I am so obsessed with this already omg!!”

Another post featured Jones sharing his scepticism about a photograph of Kate and Prince William in a car together. He wrote: “You have to be kidding me. That is not a public appearance. Choo choo! All aboard the Kate Middleton truther express!”

However, the journalist has now said he feels “ashamed” for the speculation, and wishes Kate well.

“As someone who speculated on this without considering it could be a serious health condition, I’m very ashamed to be honest, and all the very best to her,” Jones wrote in a post on X/Twitter.

In the week before, Kensington Palace had issued a photo of Kate and her three children on Mother’s Day. In an unprecedented move, photo agencies recalled the picture after realising it had been manipulated. Kate then addressed the edited image, writing on X/Twitter: “Like many amateur photographers, I do occasionally experiment with editing.

“I wanted to express my apologies for any confusion the family photograph we shared yesterday caused.”

Meanwhile, fans have been calling on reality TV star Kim Kardashian to apologise for joining in the speculation about why Kate had been absent from public life.

On 17 March, the reality star posted a photo of herself posing in front of a luxury car, and captioned the post: “On my way to go find Kate.”

“After the news of her having cancer has been revealed, you should really take this down. It’s extremely insensitive and you owe our princess an apology,” one person commented on Kardashian’s post.

“Can you please go find an apology instead?? Added another.

On social media, fans have also asked British-American comedian John Oliver to retract a joke made during an appearance on Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen.

“There is a non-zero chance she died 18 months ago,” Oliver quipped earlier this month. “They might be Weekend at Bernie’s-ing this situation. I’m not saying it happened, but I’m saying it’s non-zero until proven otherwise. Until we see her sitting there with a copy of the day’s paper.”

Weekend at Bernie’s was a 1989 comedy film in which two people manipulate a dead body to make it appear as if he’s still alive.

Piers Morgan called out Oliver for his comments on X/Twitter after the announcement that Kate is receiving cancer treatment. He said: “I hope this smug p***k has the decency to apologise for such a disgusting ‘joke’.”

At the time of writing, neither Kardashian or Oliver have responded to criticism of their comments. The Independent has contacted them for comment.

The 42-year-old princess said on Friday that she needed to recover from surgery before she could start “preventative chemotherapy”, as advised by her medical team.

“This of course came as a huge shock, and William and I have been doing everything we can to process and manage this privately for the sake of our young family,” she added.

Kate explained she had needed time to come to terms with the news and tell her children, Prince George, 10, Princess Charlotte, eight, and Prince Louis, five, before informing the wider world.

She said: “It has been an incredibly tough couple of months for our entire family, but I’ve had a fantastic medical team who have taken great care of me, for which I am so grateful.

“In January, I underwent major abdominal surgery in London and at the time, it was thought that my condition was non-cancerous.

“The surgery was successful. However, tests after the operation found cancer had been present. My medical team therefore advised that I should undergo a course of preventative chemotherapy and I am now in the early stages of that treatment.”

Praising her husband as “a great source of comfort and reassurance”, Kate said: “It has taken me time to recover from major surgery in order to start my treatment.

“But, most importantly, it has taken us time to explain everything to George, Charlotte and Louis in a way that is appropriate for them, and to reassure them that I am going to be OK.

“As I have said to them, I am well and getting stronger every day by focusing on the things that will help me heal; in my mind, body and spirits.”

The Independent is the world’s most free-thinking news brand, providing global news, commentary and analysis for the independently-minded. We have grown a huge, global readership of independently minded individuals, who value our trusted voice and commitment to positive change. Our mission, making change happen, has never been as important as it is today.

[silvernyxchariot]

Gosh, forgive me for asking such a strange and possibly horrible question. If a person were to have an unwanted pregnancy, would the pillarmen be able to penetrate the internal organs (at least by hand) to engulf the fetus?

⚠️CW/TW: deletus the fetus** talk and moral questioning⚠️

"Are the Pillarmen physically capable of removing a fetus within the reproductive organs?" is how my brain understood that. Oh, you bet'cha. (Yes.) Long answer... below the cut.

Kars and Esidisi are questionable. All the Pillarmen can probably copy each other and body morph, but I'm focused on what we see in the anime/manga. I. . . I really doubt you'd want Esidisi's brain and nervous system form digging into you like that. . . unless you're into it 😏. . . Don't stare at me like that! Σ(Дﾟ;)

If we mean "safely remove a fetus, so that mothers and seahorse dads are unharmed," yes. Santana is the best example of body manipulation/horror if we look at his feats, same thing with Wamuu. Santana has 1) absorbed a vampire through his skin, 2) used his ribcage as a trap/vice, 3) turned his stomach into a man-eating trap on Joesph, 4) tried to kill Speedwagon by using the tips of his fingers to Atco the brain, 5) and can invade a human body without distorting them. . . We're not looking at that one German soldier that exploded and died, that was just self-defense./j 😤 Wamuu, when he was awoken from his 2,000 year slumber, attached a line of soldiers by their hands and subsequently drained them of life, all at once, by poking one of them in the forehead.

Edit: I had to remind myself NOW that Esidisi and Wamuu implanted rings around Joseph's aorta and windpipe without even killing Joseph!!!

Kars, in his ultimate state, I think can definitely "penetrate the internal organs to engulf the fetus" without the mom or seahorse dad feeling a thing. His ultimate form has been shown creating and transforming life from his own body. So, I wouldn't doubt the possibility of him performing deletus the fetus with ease.

Since I put a "moral questioning" warning, I want to add that Wamuu would have the hardest time with this. Physically, he can perform the deletus, but he's not fond of the idea. He questions Kars on killing children and he dislikes battling women, even if they're hamon users and essentially a threat to him. Warrior's honor and all that./teasing Santana is a curious boy and would remove the fetus by request just so he could investigate human reproduction. Kars and Esidisi, no problem. Bruh, they pulled a genocide of their species. Kars also goes on a monologue about how he's "not a warrior or a romantic, like Wamuu." It was also mentioned, if not implied, somewhere that he experimented on humans to create the stone masks. What morality?!¿/rhetorical

Bonus! If the fetus is not affecting the parent's health and it was theirs/half-Pillarman, the answer is no. They're not going to deletus the fetus. [*insert yandere!Pillarmen with an impregnation kink here*]

**I'm sOrRyy. That phrase is hilarious to me.

[clanofjones]

The (Un) Secret Garden: Chapter One

Finally posting this!

My first ROTTMNT fic, I hope you all like it!

EDIT: The entirety of this fic is posted on my writing blog, @jaywritesturtles! Subsequent sequels will be posted there too.

Next Chapter

Ao3: complete!

Summary: The thing with an impromptu apocalypse is that it forces people - even those who hated each other prior - to join forces for the sake of survival. However, when the aforementioned apocalypse is averted - and by proxy, no stressed bonds are forced - then enemies are liable to remain enemies. Casey Jones never got that particular memo. Or: Big Mama manipulates Casey and the Disaster Twins gotta help him out.

Chapter One: Don't Crash Cars, it's Bad for the Economy

April's POV

"Go topside, they said. It'll be fun, they said!" April O'Neil grumbled as she, Cassandra Jones, and her son from the future, Casey Jones, sat in police custody.

A more accurate statement might be that April and Casey sat in government custody. Cassandra was hitting and kicking the bars as a policeman confiscated her bent naginata, Casey's tech-saw, and April's bat, shouting at levels previously thought not to be possible by human(?) lungs. 

The only good thing about it was that the policeman couldn't hear a single word from the other two. 

Or, rather, he wouldn't have been able to. Casey hadn't said a single word since being pulled over.

April nudged the future boy. 

"You doing okay, Jones?"

"I think all the police were dead by the time I was born."

It was a very good thing Cassandra was making so much noise. Unless they had much more open minds since April had last been pulled over, then it would have been a very interesting conversation.

On April's last bout to the police station, it hadn't been her fault.

It had been Donnie and Sunita's fault.

April made a mental note to check if her friends could pass for humans as well as drive in a non-apocalyptic fashion that happened to spare any and all adjacent fire hydrants.

The policeman walked up to the temporary cell they had been placed in, apparently unperturbed by Cassandra's incessant screeching until she decided to spare her lungs. April looked at the officer 

"Can we have our phone call?"

April tugged on the cord gently as the phone rang. Cassandra glowered at a man who was clearly actually incarcerated, and Casey's leg twitched as he shifted anxiously on a cold, hard bench.

"Chello~?"

April could make out Mikey's voice through the receiver and frowned slightly. She had called Donnie, right? But a garbled voice on the other end confirmed her suspicions.

"Mikey! Stop 'Chello~'ing a possible enemy!" That was (probably) Raph.

"And stop stealing my things!" Definitely Donnie...

"Hey, Donnie's stuff is fair game!" Leo.

"When did we decide that?" Donnie again. April sighed on her end and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Guys!" she said in a tone just below a shout.

"April!" Mikey exclaimed over the other end.

"Why are you calling from a station phone? I gifted you a Genius Built tech - trademarked, obviously - phone for a reason, April."

April cleared her throat and rolled on the balls of her feet. "Welp," she began, drawing out the 'e' in 'welp' before deciding to just bite the bullet and do it. "Remember when I said I'd take Casey and Casey topside to teach 'em driving?"

"Yes, we have the you-know-what all ready for them upon your return..." Donnie said skeptically.

"Well... We might've gotten into the smallest little crash ever," April could feel the crushing, expecting silence as her voice trailed off as someone dropped something. "And Casey jumped out of the window of the driver's seat, so Cass grabbed the wheel so we wouldn't crash into a pet store, and we crashed into a fire hydrant."

Silence on the other end. April chanced a glance at Cassandra and Casey and saw that Casey seemed to be expecting the electric chair. Cassandra, on the other hand, wasn't paying attention at all and was about five seconds from turning a staring-contest-turned-battle-of-wits into an actual fistfight with a definitely actually incarcerated prisoner.

"Is Casey okay?"

April nodded before she realized that they couldn't see her.

"Yeah, he's good. This lady shouted at him for a bit for jumping out of a car window and in front of her car, but he's fine now."

After a moment in which her friends on the other end seems to be taking the information in, April continued: "In any case, we still have a car with a busted hood, one grand to pay for the fire hydrant, and another three hundred apiece to Cass and Casey for driving without licenses. Mine's been revoked for a couple of weeks. If we can pay the fines now, then maybe we can get off without either of them serving any time," April explained.

"If Michael would give me my phone, then you'll be out before Pizza Week." April knew full well Donnie didn't need his phone to pay their fines, but there was no use bargaining with Donnie once you stole his phone. "Nay, within the hour!" Donnie amended, and April bet the first slice that he was posing dramatically if Leo's snickers were anything to go by.

"Thanks, Donnie. See ya in a few," April said as she placed the phone on its base.

Casey looked up at her with mild interest and pulled his jacket around himself slightly. 

"Everything's fine. Knowing Dee, we'll be out in about an hour. We'll just have to stay off the roads for now, and maybe we can practice your and Cass's driving in Repo Mantis' junkyard if Mikey can convince him."

That seemed to placate him enough, although he still looked plenty guilty as his feet shifted awkwardly.

"Sorry about the car." If April hadn't seen his lips move, then she likely wouldn't have heard him.

"Pssh, it's fine. I'm sure Donnie would have lost his mind with all his genius energy and nothing to do with it if nobody ever broke anything. Think of it as us three keeping him sane." 

Casey allowed himself to smile as April eased Cassandra out of her confrontation (fight?) by covering the ex-foot general's eyes and dragging her back by her hoodie, smiling awkwardly at the convict.

"Unhand me, O'Neil!"

April sighed as Cassandra allowed her to guide her to their holding cell.

"Good news is we're out in an hour or so. Donnie's taking care of the fees."

Cassandra pried April's hand from her eyes so that she could cast the convict one last glare, and pointed at her own eyes with two fingers, then flicking them to the convict, in an 'I'm watching you' gesture. However, even as her feet dragged on the cold floor, she allowed April to move her, which April supposed was a good sign.

As the lock clicked behind Casey, and April relinquished Cassandra, the latter sat with her legs crossed. April lay on her back with her legs propped up against the stone wall. She was suddenly exceptionally glad that they all had jackets on them, even if Casey's 'just in-case' hand warmers had been confiscated, along with everything else in their pockets and hands.

April supposed there were worst times to have been arrested, not even counting if any of them had been caught from the pictures taken during what Mikey had abbreviated to the 'Krangvasion' because boy would that have been a loaded conversation. At least by now, her human friends had learned to dress like humans, even if they couldn't drive like them.

Casey had situated himself in a corner, every few seconds his eyes would make repetitive rounds around the cell as if he were waiting for Krang to slither through the barred windows or the vents in the ceiling and floor. April sighed to herself -- the future boy hadn't given up his paranoid behaviors for anything since the invasion, barring pizza dinners and whenever the future boy played Mario Kart.

It was almost curious - Casey seemed to be trying to look for every conceivable problem known to humans, turtles, rats, or yokai whilst looking out for all of the aforementioned.

Looking back to Cassandra, April saw that the former seemed to have given up on demanding that their weapons be returned, as retrieval was imminent. Cassandra had situated herself nearest the bars in a perch-like stance.

An embarrassingly small amount of things followed in the stretching silence, especially since these were the two oddest, funniest humans she knew.

April supposed it was to be expected, especially considering that she hadn't exactly given the turtles the full story. The crash hadn't been strictly Casey's fault, and even so, he had reacted as April would have expected.

What had shocked Casey happened to be a relatively small portion - only about a foot or two in length, no more than half a foot tall - of Krang slime had emerged from a manhole.

If the phone call was anything to go by, none of the turtles were aware of it. Leo was the only one remotely capable of lying, and when it came to the Krang, the most popular reaction was to either break something or end up in a turtle pile - sometimes both, sometimes with the latter including their human friends. Either way, the turtles didn't know about the Krang's small return, and April intended to keep it like that unless Casey deemed it important enough to share.

Of the three of them, it was more his grounds for revelatory truths than April or Cassandra's.

However, after a numbing silence that stretched itself out, leaving recent events to linger with the three of them for who knows how long, April heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, girl!"

She sat up and saw Sunita - her slime yokai friend who so happened to be a cute fantastic friend and fighter - with her cloaking brooch on securely this time around, walk up to the holding cell as the hatch popped up, and she swung the door open by proxy.

"Sunita!" April cheered, and the Joneses' looked up as well. "Cass, you remember Sunita, you fought her when Leo and Donnie were dressed like old ladies and we were playing Lazer tag, remember?"

"I do recall. Lazer Tag is sacred." April and Sunita nodded.

"What's Lazer Tag?" Casey asked in a small voice, and Sunita's gaze flicked to him.

"Oh, you poor soul! I'm taking you to Lazer Tag. Saturday good?" Sunita asked instantly, and Casey blinked.

"Is it?" he responded in a tone of slight hysteria, like he wasn't sure if Saturday was cursed or not.

"Yes, you need to get out more," Cassandra said before turning to Sunita. "You were a worthy opponent, friend of April O'Neil," Cassandra said and extended a hand for Sunita to shake. "I am Cassandra Jones. You may call me Cassandra, Cass, or Casey."

"Nice to meetcha on the same side, Cassandra! I'm Sunita," the yokai said with a dashing smile that caused April to feel a little warm around the general region of her face, even if it wasn't directed at her. "Maybe you wanna come with me and your friend to Lazer Tag?"

"I shall attend!" Cassandra announced and pumped her fist into the air.

"And you've already met the other Casey," April continued, drawing Sunita's attention to her as she gestured to Casey, who was standing up as he watched Sunita carefully. Not unkindly, April made sure to note as she spoke. "Bit of a long story, so we'll tell you on the ride back."

Sunita waved to Casey, who waved back after a moment, as if realizing that was the appropriate thing to do, before offering a slightly belated smile of his own.

"Nice to meet you, Casey. Leo and Donnie are waiting for us with their ride, so we just gotta grab your stuff before heading out!"

Upon doing so, all three of them were significantly disenchanted upon the realization most of their weapons and tools had all been tampered with.

Cassandra's naginata had been visibly bent back into its original shape, although she re-bent it almost immediately.

Casey's hockey stick's chainsaw function had been removed, the small blades on their track removed separately, and he gathered them in a bag for reassembly.

Casey also managed to keep several weapons on his person, the same as his mother. Upon determining from fingerprinting that neither of them had committed any war crimes, Casey's grappling hook and Cassandra's blades were all returned, although promptly thrown out by the two, both claiming that any sort of tracer was dangerous. Besides, as Casey was quick to point out, they had a surplus back at the lair.

April's bat, it appeared, had remained untouched. She counted herself lucky Casey had used up his stash of the herbicide chemical that April had taken from one of Eastlaird's biochemistry labs that turned out to be lethal against the Krang, and the very same that Donnie had been replicating for such an occasion as today. If he hadn't, then there surely would have been questions, none of which any of them could safely answer.

But, one part of April's brain reminded her, Donnie would notice that Casey, the one whom you could count on to use resources sparingly, if nothing else, was out of the chemical, and he was the only one who had left the lair with any.

April had only just realized it as they stepped over the threshold, and saw the turtle tank within walking distance from the parking lot.

"Casey," she whispered to the future boy, and he leaned over to hear her properly. "I think we're going to have to tell Dee about the you-know-what. You're out of the chemical from my school that kills it, and you know how he gets about using it for anything short of another apocalypse."

Casey seemed to be slowing down as he took it in. "So, it's either we tell them or Donatello finds out."

April nodded. Cassandra had also slowed down, and April supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that her former enemy had been listening to the entire exchange.

"Do you want to tell them, or should Cass and I?" April whispered back, and Casey shrugged subconsciously before delivering his answer.

"I'll tell them. I crashed the car, after all."

April shared a small glance with Cassandra before Sunita turned around to look at them.

"Are you three doing good?"

"You betcha, Sunita!" April hurried to supply as the other two rushed to confirm it and picked up the pace. April could see the tank more clearly now, next to a car dealership. The large doors opened, and the four of them all checked a rough 360 degrees before entering, Cassandra pulling up the rear, and walking backward.

Casey's POV

Casey was currently regretting absolutely everything. The only good news he could gleam was that inventory wasn't ever taken until Donatello could spare more than ten minutes, back at the lair.

"Hey, could you drop me off at the Met? I've got a project I should get started on over there," Sunita - Commander O'Neil April's friend asked Donatello. Casey couldn't recall a Sunita from the apocalypse, so he figured she was either frequently gone, or had been one of the first to be killed or lost abroad.

Donnie must have nodded or something of the like because Sunita started heading towards a seat with a smile. As April and Mom Cassandra started towards the area where he assumed Sensei Leo was, he figured that was likely a better option than standing by the doorway. The retrieval was done, and he wasn't even the one retrieving, he was the one to be retrieved.

"Well, Case, good job," Casey turned abruptly and saw Leo standing there with an expression portraying vague pride, smugness, and utmost correctness. "You crashed your first car!" He held a three-fingered fist up but didn't follow through on what Casey had been sure would be a soft hit to his shoulder.

"What are you-"

"It's a fist bump, Case." Leo was looking at him like... Well, Casey wasn't sure how  Leonardo was looking at him. It wasn't a face he'd ever seen the ninja make before, closer to a soft grimace than anything else.

"You make a fist," Leo waited for Casey to follow through, "and bump it against mine!" 

Tentatively, Casey brought his fist against Leonardo's, and the latter grinned smugly, like always.

"Good job. Sometimes people do an explosion with a fist bump -" As he saw Casey's expression move in time with his rampant confusion (why would anyone have a bomb for a fist bump) he moved to explain: "Not an actual explosion! Like this, watch."

Casey did so as he lowered his fist, and Leo brought his own two fists together in a soft bump before drawing them away from each other, expanding his fists into open-palmed hands and making an exaggerated explosion sound.

Casey raised his fist again, and they brought their fists together, making that exaggerated explosion noise again.

"Nice," Leo said. Casey smiled to himself with the knowledge that he had done it right.

"Sincerest apologies for the interruption, but crashing a car is not an achievement, Nardo!" Donnie called from the driver's seat, spinning in it so that for about half a second, you could see a glaring softshell from any given angle.

"Hey, we've all done it, hermano.  That makes it an achievement."

"Since when have I ever crashed a car, dearest brother?"

"Since you tried the auto-drive program on this very tank that you came up with, as I do recall!"

With a huff, Donnie spun his chair back to the windshield. "Well, I didn't give that elderly woman a heart attack, who is, might I remind you, the same woman whose 95th birthday our dear, dear brother Raphael ruined."

"Oh yeah, how's she doing?"

"Dead! Very, very, dead, Leo! Deader than the deadliest death that has ever been accosted by you dum-dums!"

The tank came to an abrupt stop, and Casey could see from his limited view of the windshield that they were in front of a grand building, the paint job on the upper-east region looking like it had been scrubbed with a giant piece of sandpaper, due to the Krang that had, until recently, been doomed to reside on it, and very nearly did so for more than a few hours.

"Your stop," Donnie said, spinning slightly to look at Sunita, who chirped out a 'thank you' to Donnie and a 'goodbye' to the rest of them before disappearing into the crowd.

"So... How was prison?" Leonardo asked, leaning back so he had Casey, Cassandra, and April all in his line of sight.

"It wasn't prison, blue one. We were briefly contained," Cassandra spat back, with a sour look on his face.

"In a jail cell. That goes on the record, you know."

"Whatever you call it, it was boring," April said, leaning even further back and landing on her back. Casey took the moment to pull her up, and they caught each other's eye, exchanging a glance with anxious overtones.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked without hardly moving her lips.

After a small pause, Casey nodded, equally inconspicuous.

"What's everyone whispering about?"

Apparently not as inconspicuous as they had both apparently thought, as Leonardo leaned over to better hear their conversation.

"Uh- Nothing! Just something Casey's gotta talk to you guys about!"

Casey swallowed nervously. Now there really isn't a way out of this, he thought to himself. He sent April a small glare, to which she gave him a look reminiscent of one he recalled Commander O'Neil using several times whenever anyone was being particularly dense.

"Alright. Don-Tron! Casey's got something he wants to tell us."

Donnie spun around, raised an eyebrow, held a soda can, and offered it to Leo.

"Spittake," he explained. Well, there was definitely going to be a use for that, Casey thought as his internal struggle increased. "Just don't get it remotely near the controls or I will dropkick you out of this tank."

Ignoring the threat (if it was even a threat anymore), Leo just nodded before responding: "Good thinking, hermano. Watcha got for us, Case?"

Casey took a deep breath as he chanced a glance out the window - the tank was maybe two minutes out from the lair. At least that was good.

"Well... It's about the crash. It-"

Leo cut over him before Casey could deliver the blow.

"It's fine, I don't know a single person who hasn't crashed a car. If they can drive a car, they've crashed it."

"It's not the fact that we crashed a car, it's..." Casey paused and tried to think if there was any way to sugarcoat what he was about to say, dress it up and soften the blow. He decided that there was not any sort of way to do so and that the only way was to bite the bullet and spit it out. "It's the 'why.' The car crashed because we came in contact with a small portion of Krang--"

If anyone ever cared to check the Turtle Tank's camera footage, they would be able to time it down to the exact second that everything spiraled out of control.

Casey paused mid-sentence to gauge the two turtles' reactions as to whether or not he should continue. As it happened, he discovered that he should not, thank you very much, as of about two seconds later, and the tank descended into the lair. Donnie inhaled as Leo continued to stare at Casey as if he had been Krangified.

"I'm sorry, for a second there I thought you said that the Krang are back?" Donnie asked, and his voice shook at the name.

"Only a little bit," April helpfully interjected from a few feet behind Casey.

"What car did you use, I will find it and scour it until I can find how it got in there, it will be gone in a matter of-"

"It wasn't in the car," Cassandra said slowly, cutting Donnie off, and the soft-shelled turtle tapped his hand on Leonardo's shoulder a few times before Leo blinked and took a breath, leaning against the wall of the tank.

"I saw it in the road and kind of freaked out," Casey continued. "Then I grabbed the chemical that Donatello replicated and used it all on the Krang. So, sorry for wasting-"

"Sorry for..." Leo repeated Casey in a low, soft voice before trailing off, and letting out a huff of air. "Casey, we have so much of that stuff, right, Don?" Donnie nodded, looking just as stricken as Leo looked and Casey felt. "Right. So that is the least of our concerns,  mi amigo.  Right now we have to figure out how the Krang got there and found you."

"Right, right," Donnie said distantly, but Casey noted that his death grip on the chair was tightening with each moment. Leo's own gaze was banging off the walls, ceiling, and floor as if expecting the Krang to jump out from nowhere. Casey would be lying if he wasn't paranoid at the moment either, and he cursed the policemen for dismantling his own weapon.

"Well, it came out of a manh-" April cut herself off, and Casey whirled around to look at her, and his mind was firing on all cylinders again, hoping upon hope that he wouldn't see the Krang spreading across her, eyes where eyes shouldn't ever be materializing-

But there was no pink slime, no off-colored or extra eyes, no scalene tentacles or spikes protruding from the wrong places. Just the April O'Neil of twenty-two years ago (or the present, time travel was still so confusing) with a fist closed over her mouth in an expression of deep thinking.

Then her eyes widened, and as Casey reflected on his ex-Commander's words, his own followed suit.

"What? Where'd they come from?" Leo asked, a nervous laugh teetered on the edge of his tone.

Casey cleared his throat of the bile gathering there and prayed that his tone would remain steady.

"Um," Great, one word -- no, not even a word, an onomatopoeia -- in and he'd failed at that. "The Krang are in the sewers."

Chapter Two ->

[arcanemoody]

The insomnia's back.

I don't know how to explain this to anyone who doesn't live with major depressive disorder and, thus, doesn't experience the cyclical nature of triggers and coping mechanisms. But, in my experience, the latter are pretty well-matched to the former. They arrive in the same dual packaging.

My father was an amateur videographer. He named his in-home production house "All Night Long Productions." The nature of his day job at the brewery locked him into swing-shifts and, subsequently, shift-work disorder. His circadian rhythms didn't cycle the way other peoples' did and he made up for the time he lost by filling it with sound mixing and video editing.

I was fifteen when my own sleep patterns skidded off the rails. There are many reasons. I was stressed all the time, resentful of the time school took away from my hyper-fixations, passions, and projects. My childhood best friend had taken up with the local molester and I felt bereft and horrified but, mostly, just lonely. My inability to keep my mouth shut about ugly truths lost me a compatriot. It wouldn't be the last time.

Communication is so ugly to me when it's not direct. The behavioral economics people weave into their interactions, where every word is carefully chosen to produce a desired outcome. It's a manipulation, an abuse -- in that all efforts to change someone else's perception of reality against their will are abusive. And so common in white, middle-class, female-led spaces, many of which take a page from MLM girlboss authoritarianism while LARPing as service-related non-profits. Which, alas, is a space I currently work in...

So yeah. I'm stressed. Bereft. Less lonely than I was 20+ years ago, because I have Rocket and my community and my projects. I also have a therapist and SSRIs which would ideally help me NOT have insomnia but, yeah. Dual packaging.

[mariacallous]

Over the summer, a political action committee (PAC) supporting Florida governor and presidential hopeful Ron DeSantis uploaded a video of former president Donald Trump on YouTube in which he appeared to attack Iowa governor Kim Reynolds. It wasn’t exactly real—though the text was taken from one of Trump’s tweets, the voice used in the ad was AI-generated. The video was subsequently removed, but it has spurred questions about the role generative AI will play in the 2024 elections in the US and around the world.

While platforms and politicians are focusing on deepfakes—AI-generated content that might depict a real person saying something they didn’t or an entirely fake person—experts told WIRED there's a lot more at stake. Long before generative AI became widely available, people were making “cheapfakes” or “shallowfakes.” It can be as simple as mislabeling images, videos, or audio clips to imply they’re from a different time or location, or editing a piece of media to make it look like something happened that didn’t. This content can still have a profound impact if they’re allowed to circulate on social platforms. As more than 50 countries prepare for national elections in 2024, mis- and disinformation are still powerful tools for shaping public perception and political narratives.

Meta and YouTube have both responded in recent months with new policies around the use of generative AI in political ads like the one in support of DeSantis. Last month, Meta announced that it would require political advertisers to disclose whether an ad uses generative AI, joining Google, which owns YouTube, in responding to concerns that newly available tools could be used to mislead voters. In a note on its blog post about how the company is approaching the upcoming 2024 elections, Meta says that it will require advertisers “to disclose when they use AI or other digital techniques to create or alter a political or social issue ad in certain cases.”

“The scope is only political ads, which is a tiny part of the political ecology where people are increasingly using AI-generated media,” says Sam Gregory, program director at the nonprofit Witness, which helps people use technology to promote human rights. “It's not clear that it covers the broad range of shallowfakes or cheapfake approaches that are already being deployed both in political ads, but also, of course, in much broader ways that people use in political context.”

And not all misleading political content ends up in advertisements. For instance, in 2020, a video went viral that made it appear like Representative Nancy Pelosi was slurring her speech. The video itself wasn’t fake, but it had been slowed down to make Pelosi appear drunk. Though Twitter, TikTok, and YouTube removed the video, it remained live on Facebook, with a label noting it was “partly false.” The video itself wasn’t an ad, though it was clearly targeting a political figure.

Earlier this year, Meta’s Oversight Board took on a case reviewing doctored video of President Joe Biden, which had not been generated or edited using AI, and which the company left up on the platform. The board will use the case to further review the company’s “manipulated media policy,” which stipulates that videos where “a subject … said words that they did not say” and which are “the product of artificial intelligence or machine learning” will be removed. Content like the Pelosi and Biden videos don't clearly violate this policy. Manipulated audio, particularly problematic in many non-English contexts, is nearly completely left out.

“Political ads are deliberately designed to shape your emotions and influence you. So, the culture of political ads is often to do things that stretch the dimensions of how someone said something, cut a quote that's placed out of context,” says Gregory. “That is essentially, in some ways, like a cheap fake or shallow fake.”

Meta did not respond to a request for comment about how it will be policing manipulated content that falls outside the scope of political advertisements, or how it plans to proactively detect AI usage in political ads.

But companies are only now beginning to address how to handle AI-generated content from regular users. YouTube recently introduced a more robust policy requiring labels on user-generated videos that utilize generative AI. Google spokesperson Michael Aciman told WIRED that in addition to adding “a label to the description panel of a video indicating that some of the content was altered or synthetic,” the company will include a more “more prominent label” for “content about sensitive topics, such as elections.” Aciman also noted that “cheapfakes” and other manipulated media may still be removed if it violates the platform’s other policies around, say, misinformation or hate speech.

“We use a combination of automated systems and human reviewers to enforce our policies at scale,” Aciman told WIRED. “This includes a dedicated team of a thousand people working around the clock and across the globe that monitor our advertising network and help enforce our policies.”

But social platforms have already failed to moderate content effectively in many of the countries that will host national elections next year, points out Hany Farid, a professor at the UC Berkeley School of Information. “I would like for them to explain how they're going to find this content,” he says. “It's one thing to say we have a policy against this, but how are you going to enforce it? Because there is no evidence for the past 20 years that these massive platforms have the ability to do this, let alone in the US, but outside the US.”

Both Meta and YouTube require political advertisers to register with the company, including additional information such as who is purchasing the ad and where they’re based. But these are largely self-reported, meaning some ads can slip through the company’s cracks. In September, WIRED reported that the group PragerU Kids, an extension of the right-wing group PragerU, had been running ads that clearly fell within Meta’s definition of “political or social issues”—the exact kinds of ads for which the company requires additional transparency. But PragerU Kids had not registered as a political advertiser (Meta removed the ads following WIRED’s reporting).

Meta did not respond to a request for comment about what systems it has in place to ensure advertisers properly categorize their ads.

But Farid worries that the overemphasis on AI might distract from the larger issues around disinformation, misinformation, and the erosion of public trust in the information ecosystem, particularly as platforms scale back their teams focused on election integrity.

“If you think deceptive political ads are bad, well, then why do you care how they’re made?” asks Farid. “It’s not that it’s an AI-generated deceptive political ad, it’s that it’s a deceptive political ad period, full stop.”