#thinking of redemption/surrender au ...

[z13lovebot]

Wakes up at 7AM vs Sleeps until 2PM

[simpxxstan]

HELLOOO!!! CONGRATS FOR THE 550 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR I HOPE U GET MORE FOLLOWERS BC UR WRITTING?? DELICIOUS 💗💗

But I would like to request seungcheol + dilfism ?? Like have u SEEN that man??

Thank you!! Have a good day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MAN <333 thank you for sending this in! LOVED writing dilf cheol. i swear this man and his sexiness of 30s will be the death of me. inspired completely by his new glasses look at caratland 2024.

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, age gap, dilf!seungcheol, lawyer au.

word count: 13k words.

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ nsfw content. 13 YEAR AGE GAP, mention of suicide, single dad!seungcheol, a ton of legal terms (not vouching to be accurate because i am neither a lawyer nor a law student nor is my research perfect), seungcheol is a bit selfish and toxic (but there's a redemption arc), ANGSTY angst, but A LOT OF FLUFF TO COMPENSATE. smut warnings: protected sex, oral receiving (f and m), mild dirty talk, implicit size kink, implicit spit kink.

"it's my first case!" you whine in surrender, slumping on the shoulder of your friend, as you both re-read the case file in front of you for the n-th time this morning. yoona pats your head, but she knows even she can say nothing to console you. it must be either sheer bad luck or some unknown person's vengeance, that you're against choi seungcheol in the very first case of your life.

y/l/n y/n: the lawyer of the plaintiff, hwang seola.

choi seungcheol: the lawyer of the defendant, KNT enterprises pvt. ltd.

nothing can save you from losing your first case in the worst way possible. not even the stellar letters of recommendation from your professors. not even your exceptional performance in the national lawyers examination process. not even your diligence during your interning years that's earned you the title of golden rookie. everyone expects you to make it big, including yourself- but that's clearly not going to happen if you lose the very first actual case you have to face in your life.

"at least no one will mock you for losing," yoona says in a meek voice. you scoff indignantly, "as if that's any comfort. still doesn't change the fact that i'm going to start off my career on the worst foot possible. why does my luck have to be so shitty?"

"hey, think about the positives. imagine how much of a learning experience it'll be. i know best how much you consider seungcheol as your idol."

you sigh. five years ago, when seungcheol had blown up across the country because of his historic debut in the court of corporate law, winning case after case and setting precedents that were welcomed with open arms, you'd looked up to him. five years ago, he'd walked into your college for an invited seminar during your first semester and blown your mind away. five years ago, you would cry in joy at the opportunity to even spend a minute in the same courtroom as seungcheol and see him in action. five years ago, he'd been the ideal man of your dreams- perfect in every damn way possible.

the only issue with that is that he's still the ideal man in your eyes. even if losing the case against him won't make your nervous, just being in close quarters with him for long hours will make you infinitely nervous.

"maybe i should recommend boss to let you take up the ca-" you tease yoona, and she squeals, whining protests instantly. "no thank you!" you laugh, hoping to lighten the tension of the moment. but the relief is only temporary, and the weight of the upcoming case lingers in your mind for hours later.

_

the first trial of the case is a week later. before that, you decide to change your mindset to a better thought process- even if you simply assume that you're going to lose this case, you're still going to give in your 100% so that you can step away with no regrets and only more knowledge gained. the first step to that, of course, is speak to your client personally, without the intermediation of the firm you work at.

mrs hwang turns out to be a woman just a few years older than you. the primary reason why she's suing the company her husband used to work at is because her husband had been driven to suicide by the constant pressure in his workplace to keep some illegal activities and fraud under the covers, which had not only harmed his mental health and morals but also affected the way his superiors judged his work performance. she may be young, but she's lost her husband merely three years after their marriage, and just one look at her face makes your heart ache in sympathy.

this isn't the first time you've seen such a case. during your years of study, you've studied plenty of cases involving companies ill-treating their workers and leading them to take up drastic steps in desperation. not only does this case come under a serious mistreatment of employees under labour laws, but also violates laws governing corporations which demand them to steer off illegal activities and maintain integrity. it's a very interesting case, and you're highly intrigued and instantly drawn into the case. there are several nuances that you know you may miss out by a hair's breadth if you're not careful. but you cannot take chances. if you have to even put up a fair fight against choi seungcheol, you're going to have to leave no stone unturned.

at the end of your discussions with mrs hwang, you're fully convinced that the company is indeed at fault here. however, you're going to have to prove it in court with the meagre evidence you have- which is low anyway, considering how big companies use their financial and social capital to turn such cases remarkably in their favour. the primary example of that being them getting seungcheol, the country's top corporate lawyer, to represent them, while mrs hwang can only hire you, a rookie lawyer at a lesser reputed firm.

however, as you walk into the courtroom, you convince yourself to not think about how the odds are against your favour from the first moment itself, to calm your nerves. you're here to debut with a bang, and you will fake it till you make it.

_

it doesn't work.

it doesn't work because the moment you enter the courtroom, you see choi seungcheol sitting next to the defendant's CEO on the other side of the room, dressed in the most immaculate suit, his glasses perched on his nose as he inspects the documents you've submitted in court prior to the trial as preliminary evidence. when you walk towards the bench you're going to sit at, he looks up at you.

it's a careful, measured glance. a glance of confidence, a glance of self-awareness. he knows he's going to win. and yet, he smiles at you indulgently.

moments later, he meets you halfway across the room.

"good morning. i'm seungcheol," he extends his hand for a shake, his nose upturned as he looks down at you with an aura that nearly blows you away. you wish that you hadn't worn heels tonight- because if he keeps looking at you like that, your knees are going to give up.

"of course, who wouldn't know you?" you steady your voice mustering a smile.

seungcheol's smile does not change. "it's nice to meet the golden rookie finally."

his words send shivers down your spine. there's just something about meeting your idol from so up-close that you want to submit instantly to his infinitely higher knowledge and experience to you. there's also something particular to him that's affecting your mind and body- because if seungcheol at thirty-one was handsome, he's absolutely godly at thirty-six. he's aged like fine wine- the rimless glasses sitting firmly on his nose, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and a few graying hairs around his sideburns.

you don't get a chance to respond as the judge enters the court and you're pulled away to your bench, sitting next to a very nervous-looking mrs hwang. you forcefully drag your eyes away from seungcheol, who still has that tiny smile on his face as he talks to his client, and focus on your client, giving her much-needed confidence boosts (needed both by her and by you).

_

as anticipated, the first trial does not go well. it's just your fucking luck that the judge knows seungcheol already- but then, it was wrong of you to not consider that already, knowing how famous he is. on top of it all, mrs hwang breaks down in the middle of seungcheol's questioning, shaken completely by his straightforward questions and uncaring gaze, and the court gets adjourned, leaving you stranded without any proper progress against seungcheol's stronger case. the next trial is scheduled for a week later. you wish you could think that your work has been cut out for you, but it's far from that.

the second trial comes quickly- but it doesn't let you progress much further. seungcheol looks even more nonchalant on the second trial- dressed in another suit, he's less fierce today during his questioning. you don't notice it, because you're too flustered with your own work, but his eyes stray towards you more often. his eyes glaze over with something soft every time you make eye contact, and you immediately look away, like you've been caught in the act. but seungcheol doesn't let it slip- he keeps up his passive aggression when he's shaking hands with you before exiting the courtroom.

"tough luck, rookie. focus between the lines more."

his words make you even more nervous than before, but you put on a brave face for seola's sake. this motivates you to change your gameplan, and you decide to stop focusing on existing evidence, which is scarce, and use more verbal reports of other employees who have willingly stepped up to speak the truth after the suicide of their friend and colleague. by the time you're just three days before the third trial date, you have a solid set of verbal witnesses who will provide evidence on your side, but every time you feel slightly more confident than earlier, seungcheol's voice rings in your ears and you lose all hope.

on the morning of the fourth day, you receive an email from your boss.

y/n, please attend a lunch meeting on my behalf with some of our older clients (whose list i have attached below) today.

you jump to the opportunity- being provided a chance to interact with the old clients of the firm is a lucrative opportunity to impress those who've stayed with the firm from the beginning (and naturally, have graduated into stakeholders at the firm).

so it's safe to say you're in for a rude shock when you reach the lunch spot at a five-star restaurant along the banks of the han river, and find none of your clients but instead you find seungcheol waiting for you.

_

"close your mouth and stop drooling," jeonghan's voice somehow appears in his mind when he sees you enter the restaurant. "you make it obvious how hot you find women in suits."

but seungcheol cannot take his eyes off you. hasn't been able to for the last two times he's seen you. even if the courtroom is no place for indecency, he's had plenty of indecent thoughts whenever he's seen you, dressed in your suits and blazers, your curves prominent and your hair tied up in a practical ponytail. he should not think like this about you- he knows it. you both are set up at natural odds because of the case- but somehow, that makes him more interested in you. and seungcheol would not have it any other way. he looks forward to each trial of an otherwise boring case just to see you- the passion on your face whenever you're arguing your case, the way your mouth opens in shock whenever seungcheol casually dismisses a piece of information you've clearly worked hard on, the way you stare in exasperation at the witnesses when they speak against your stance, the hunger in your eyes whenever you're questioning his client, and the fire in you that burns you to work harder before each trial. seungcheol hasn't seen a lawyer as passionate as you in many years- most would have given up even before starting just due to his formidable reputation, but you're not even intimidated by his on-brand dead stare that works on everyone.

"i was told i'm here to meet clients of my firm. i didn't know you hired our firm for your personal needs," you cock an eyebrow as you stand in front of him, and seungcheol smirks. that attitude does nothing to filter his thoughts.

"would you have come if i'd invited you personally?"

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "have a seat, please. let's enjoy lunch."

you do so immediately. submissive. "but i still don't understand why i'm here." bratty.

he places a finger on his lips as the food he's pre-ordered arrives. the smell of the delicious food breaks your frigid attitude, it obviously helps that seungcheol's ordered your self-proclaimed favourite dish on your public instagram account. "i'm sure you must be hungry." seungcheol digs in himself, his eyes on yours as he carefully licks the spoon clean. your eyes flicker to his lips instantly before you're staring back into his eyes, defiance laced in your gaze. you pick up the spoon and start eating as well. seungcheol smiles.

i'm a dad to two daughters. i know how to tame brats.

after a few minutes, he finally speaks. "do you know the first step to winning a battle, rookie?"

you look up and tilt your head slightly in question.

"knowing your opponent."

"i already know you."

"that's what you think. that's why you're not going to win."

your eyes flash with anger. "are you just going to rub that into my face? is that why i'm here?"

"so what? you don't want to win? isn't the most loved story of human history the tale of the underdog?"

"frankly, my opponent isn't even you. it's your client, who isn't even here. so i don't understand the point of this meeting."

"so much can be learnt merely through observation, rookie. you can't know someone by looking at their annual reports and how much money they pay their employees."

"i don't need to know anything more than that! unlike you, i don't wish to meddle in people's personal lives to win cases. i don't need your brain games."

seungcheol chuckles. "the courtroom is nothing but brain games, rookie. think how far facts can take you, and then think how much further imagination can take you."

you gasp, pinching your nose. "i'm sorry, what? imagination? i'll win on evidence and evidence only. i used to admire you as an icon of law. but now, when i see you defend an obvious criminal with such blatant stubbornness, i'm having second thoughts."

"obvious criminal? are you telling me you've obtained the evidence you need to prove my client guilty in court?"

"and what if i do?"

seungcheol sits back, squaring his shoulders to his full stature. "you shouldn't tell me about it then, rookie."

"when you'd walked into my law school five years ago for a seminar, this wasn't the choi seungcheol i'd grown to love as an icon."

fuck. five years ago? just how young were you?

"i'd advise you not to get emotional about the case. the courtroom is no place for admiration or lov- or any other emotions."

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

"why should i? i'm surviving just fine, aren't i?"

by this point, seungcheol can see the way your nails dig into your own palms in frustration. it's so amusing, how emotionally you're dealing with this. in a world of black and white, seeing you behave gray in every scenario makes seungcheol think he's lived thirty-six years of his life incorrectly.

finally when you cannot come up with any rebuttal, you stand up, dragging your chair on purpose to make noise. "there's absolutely nothing more for me to talk to you about. i hope you've learnt about me today, choi seungcheol. i've certainly learnt a lot too." and you walk away before he has the opportunity to say anything.

_

lunch with seungcheol leaves you shaken and stuttering. even as you open the door of the cab outside and ask the driver to take you to the office without a second thought, you spend the entire journey lost in your own thoughts. every little moment of the meeting lingers in your mind, unsettling your confidence. from the way he calls you rookie to his quiet arrogance and confidence, everything about him is so frustrating and yet... he draws you in. your perception about him has definitely changed after today, but even with the added understanding of just how selfish choi seungcheol can be, you can't ignore the sheer attraction you feel towards him.

it stays on your mind through the next three days. and on the morning of the third trial, you're stuck with two different thoughts plaguing your mind.

the first: a genuine concern about how the third trial is going to pan out. it's likely to be your last chance to even bring the judge's opinion to your side, because if you can't present good enough evidence today, there's no way to sway the jury to your side.

the second: choi seungcheol is a man who annoys you but you also have this innate craving to impress him. your respect for him hasn't changed, but your conversation with him has revealed to you just how cutthroat the world of law really is. and his suave attitude, the confidence with which he's so sure he's going to win, and his infinitely superior experience to you makes some part of you so desperate to seek his attention and impress him. show him that you can do well too. show him that you're not going to make beginner's mistakes. show him that you're more than a mere rookie.

but when you walk into the courtroom, seola next to you, your sunglasses perched on your head, you stare at the empty bench behind you. it was supposed to be full with the four witnesses you'd invited today and were relying on to sail through the the third trial. frantically, you ask your colleague who's assisting you in the trial, "where are the witnesses? are they running late? can you ple-"

"they're not going to come today, y/n."

seungcheol's icy voice cuts through the chaos and reaches you sharply. you spin around to find him dressed immaculately in a midnight blue turtleneck that shows off the stubble growing down his jaw.

"sorry, what?"

"you heard me the first time. none of them are going to come today."

"and how do you know?"

seungcheol smirks as he shrugs and takes a step closer towards you. "i have my ways, rookie."

you're fuming at this point, but you really can't speak your mind because seola breaks down in tears right next to you and you can't help but shift away your focus from seungcheol's dangerous eyes and take care of her.

it's honestly a miracle that after the complete sweep that seungcheol presents in the third trial, with no new evidence nor substantial evidence from your end, you still get another chance at a fourth trial, scheduled two weeks from now, in a pitiful announcement from the judge, imploring you to use this final chance to collect as much as evidence as you can.

_

when the trial ends, you ask seola to go home, and you lock yourself up in a bathroom stall in the court building, trying to come to terms with everything that's come to pass today. it's been an overwhelming morning and you're still shaken badly by it all. every moment you spend in this world with seungcheol, he seems to make it his personal mission to show you that there's no place for softness or emotions in this cut-throat world.

when you exit the washroom, you find seungcheol standing outside, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

"did you bribe them?"

he turns to look at you, his eyes clearly wide in surprise. "what are you saying?"

you take a step closer to him, your entire body shaking with fury. "did you bribe the fucking witnesses?"

"we're in public, woman, control your tongue."

"i'm not ashamed of anything i'm saying though, are you?"

seungcheol's lips twist in distaste and he drags you away from the public place to a quieter spot secluded near the parking lot. "i understand you're frustrated because of that no-show today, but you're speaking nonsense-"

"i'm speaking perfect sense, seungcheol! only you knew that i was going to bring in witnesses today."

"only me?"

"except two people at my firm, one of who is my best friend, and the other is a colleague who's assisting me in the case."

"who knows? maybe your friend's the snitch-"

you step closer to him, seething in anger. "don't you fucking make false allegations, choi seungcheol!"

"you're the one making false allegations here, really."

"you'll have to admit it, seungcheol. someday. if all your fame and reputation has been through such cheap tricks and under-the-table dirty business, you'll have to pay for it-"

"or what?" seungcheol puts back the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with a lighter. he takes in a big puff, and exhales right into your face. "or what, y/n? maybe you should take my advice instead. and stop making rookie mistakes."

as he walks away from you, you shout behind him, "i'm going to expose you, seungcheol!"

"empty threats, la la la." his voice trails back, sending shivers down your spine, as you're left alone in the dark parking lot, wallowing in your own pathetic helplessness.

_

your search for further evidence has led you to a complete dead-end. the most important thing that you need, the one that will clinch the case for you absolutely, is any - even one- document directly coming from KNT to seola's husband. unfortunately, you've gone through his emails and fax multiple times, but found nothing. nothing on his laptop, no hard drives, no soft drives, no external devices, nothing on his mobile phone or other such devices either. today you're searching all his belongings again and again, but it's still the dead-end. you realise that there's no point looking for more witnesses because seungcheol's just going to drive them away by whatever tricks he's using. and you're confident that seungcheol's thinking a step ahead of you- so any new evidence sources that you might come up with now might have already been dismissed by seungcheol through some back-up plan of his.

"seola, i need you to think once more, please. did he use any other device apart from the one at his office and the one at home? any laptop or any other mobile phone?"

"no... i can't remember anything else, really. we couldn't afford anything more too..."

you grimace. "i hope you don't get offended, but i'm sure he received quite a bit of money from whatever services he was providing KNT. enough to motivate him to keep quiet and hold on for so long. otherwise an honest man like him wouldn't want to get into this mess, would he?"

seola doesn't reply immediately, tears silently dropping down his cheeks.

you sigh and place a hand on her shoulders, rubbing softly as she breaks down into more tears. in the last few weeks, you've become surprisingly quite close. you've comforted her through her worst moments, feeling compassionate both as a woman and as a lawyer. and she, in turn, has helped you without any qualms, in not just the case but also lent a patient ear to you whenever you've wanted to rant, made ramen for you whenever you've worked till late, and let you stay over at her place whenever the rain outside's become too torrential for you to take the bus back home.

after a few long moments, seola is finally able to gain back her composure. "y/n.... he did mention something about an outstation office... towards the outskirts of the city. he used to go there twice a month. he told me it was for sending out packages to the other branches of the company... but maybe you could see there once?" your eyes light up with excitement as you hear seola's words. is this finally the breakthrough you'd been looking for through high and low? is this finally going to be your trump card to win the case? your rational side tells you to not become overjoyed immediately, but something in you is desperate to see that cockiness wiped off seungcheol's face, and bring him down to earth from whatever higher place his arrogance has placed himself at.

"seola, can you give me any tentative location for it? i'm going to go check it now."

"now? but the forecast is showing there's going to be thunderstorms tonight! there's so much thunder grumbling out there-"

"it doesn't matter, seola. i can't afford to lose any more time."

_

seungcheol's been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now, and the windshield wiper is absolutely useless in preventing the rain from cascading on his front window. the rain is relentless- just like the thoughts tormenting his heart. the reason he's returning home so late is because there had been a dinner party at the workplace cafeteria, hosted by his colleagues and closest friends, jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo and minghao. they're all lawyers with their own reputations, and the only friends they all have now. the point of the dinner? celebrating seungcheol's (upcoming) win in the KNT vs mrs hwang case. (and also to get seungcheol's mind off y/n, who's distracted him from his work all week, ever since their encounter at the parking lot of the courthouse.)

it'd been a mistake to stay out for so long. a sheer lapse of judgement, and seungcheol has not choice but to curse at himself right now. his daughters have called him already, their voices sleepy as they stay up for their father to return home to eat ice cream with them, before they fall into bed.

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

y/n's words ring in his mind.

as the rain pours down cruelly, seungcheol's heart lets out silent cries.

he's a failure.

he's failed his family. thirteen years ago, when his parents had cast him out of their house after he'd failed to get a job at a good law firm.

that attitude's gonna get you nowhere, kid! stop running your mouth and focus on your work!

he's failed his first love. nine years ago, four years before he'd finally made his mark in the country's law scene, his wife had divorced him and left their children with him, because he'd not been able to earn enough for her.

stop being such a social activist, seungcheol! the world isn't soft like you. stop being so stuck up and emotional!

and now he's failing his daughters. day after day, they'd stay up late, waiting to spend some quality time with their father. night after night, they'd end up sleeping alone because seungcheol's insomnia didn't let him sleep with them. month after month, he'd promise to take them to their long-due vacation, but he was always too busy to take leave for two weeks at once. year after year, they'd wait for him to come to sports' day but seungcheol could never make it.

appa, if you can't take us to jeju... can we go for the school trip this year to jeju? all our friends are going to go for it...

all these painful thoughts triggered simply by one person- you. you're an unprecedented variable in his life, someone he couldn't even imagine to be a part of his life even a month ago. and yet, you've made him feel so many emotions, that had become dormant for years, in such a short span of time.

he's disappointing you too.

he doesn't know why it hurts what you think of him. seungcheol had thought that at thirty-six, he's finally ascended from these petty thoughts. but somehow your judgemental gaze, your innocent words and your fresh perspectives have shaken him to the core.

or perhaps he does know why, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

you remind him of himself.

but you're far better than he was. he'd been a coward, a loser, too quick to give up, and too hasty to drown in his own pity party. you're a fighter, a challenger, not accepting the cruelties of status quo, and too passionate to give up your sense of justice just to fit in with the cut-throat dirty reality.

you're 10 times the lawyer than he could ever be, and something about that makes him so inexplicably drawn to you.

because you're the person he's always wanted to idolised.

no wonder that when you'd told him that you'd looked up to him as an idol, he'd laughed at himself.

the traffic jam disperses slowly, and seungcheol breaks out of his daze. the clock shows 10.30 pm, and the rain shows no sign of stopping. thankfully, the traffic is now moving smoothly.

_

after almost half an hour of standing at the bus stop, waiting for something to pass by, there's finally a car with a very bright beam slowing down in front of you. it's a private car, but you hope it can give you a l-

"what are you doing here?!" the words escape your mouth as soon as you notice who's in the driver as the car window rolls down.

"get in, rookie."

you consider hesitating, but seungcheol's car looks warm... and safe. so you do get in, hating how there's water everywhere you're touching, spoiling the clearly expensive leather of the seats. but seungcheol doesn't say anything even as you shuffle in and finally settle on the passenger seat.

he thankfully doesn't ask you anything as he lets you take a breath and get warm enough. so about five minutes pass before he asks you, "what were you thinking, standing out there in this rain?" his voice is low, almost cracked, but laced with serious concern. you notice that he's still dressed in his typical suits. is he returning from work so late?

"i had work here," you say carefully avoiding the connection about the case.

"so late at night?"

"it was important."

"that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

"no."

you're aware by the way his jaw is clenched that he's getting annoyed by your short answers. but you have no option except to be as vague as possible- his mind works too fast for you.

"where's your home?"

you tell him the locality, and he sighs. "that's on the opposite side of town."

"i know, just... maybe you can drop me at a more crowded bus stop? the one where i was waiting was a bit remote, but a more crowded one will definitely have more frequent buses-"

"you're out of your mind."

"huh?"

"just because you're irresponsible doesn't mean i will be too. i cannot and will not leave you in the middle of the road in this rain so late at night."

"seungcheol, i don't want to barge-"

"you're not barging into anything. you'll come home with me, change into drier clothes and sleep in for the night so that you don't fall sick."

"y-your home?"

"yes. do you have a better idea?"

you gulp, his gaze stern. you don't have a better idea, in fact getting to change into warm clothes and get into someone's house sounds divine right now. the only problem is that it's.... seungcheol's home. if you can't handle him in his everyday suits, you wonder what thoughts seungcheol in his natural abode will spark in you.

"i'll always be grateful to you."

seungcheol nods, and the rest of the journey is silent.

_

seungcheol doesn't know yet if it's a good or a bad idea. he did it as an impulse- perhaps some part of him hopes he's still redeemable in your eyes, so he wants to do the right thing for once. but he won't know if it's the right think for everyone until he reaches home.

when he parks the car and takes you up to his flat, he can hear the television blaring harry potter from outside the flat, and he can see the way your eyebrows furrow at the sound. so he slowly unlocks the door, to reveal his two daughters sitting on the couch, undoubtedly watching their favourite harry potter movies again, wearing identical pyjamas specially designed for the identical twins.

he can hear you gasp as you step into the house, and the girls come into your view.

there's an awkward moment of silence and staring, before sol comes running to him and wraps herself around his waist. "appa! we're right at the last scene of prisoner of azkaban, your favourite part!"

seungcheol almost tears up. how can they welcome him so warmly every night even though he's come home so late?

he clears his throat. "sounds like you've been having fun, girls. but first, say hello to y/n unnie-"

"imo," you whisper next to him, your figure shrunk with the cold.

"no unnie," he whispers back. "this is choi sol, our maknae, and that's choi byul, my eldest." the girls wave and shyly say hello, their dimpled smiles flashing politely as they bow. you bow back, "hi sol and byul! sorry you're meeting unnie in this state~"

"are you also a lawyer?"

"did you get caught in the rain?"

"do you work with appa in his office?"

"do you want fresh clothes?"

you giggle at the contrasting questions from the two girls, their starkly different personalities evident. "yes, yes, no, and yes please, if you could be so kind," you smile back, your dainty lips curving into a pretty bow that takes his breath away. sollie shifts from where she'd been wrapped around seungcheol to take your hand gently. "do you think my clothes will fit you? i think byul's clothes will. she has a very warm nightdress..." and she drags you away to her room, welcoming you in without even a single moment's hesitation. byul is more reserved in her welcome, but still warm. she follows the two of you shortly, and seungcheol is left at his doorstep alone, but filled with such a flurry of emotions in his heart that leaves his soul warmed unlike he's felt in years.

about twenty minutes later, he comes out of his bathroom after a refreshing warm shower, his hair soft after the shampoo. he can hear voices from the kitchen, loud-pitched voices of his daughters and the softer, lower voice that he recognises as you.

"unnie, do you want to have ramen?" byul's voice rings out. "we were going to have ice cream but you might feel too cold for that." sol adds, "did you eat dinner, unnie? didn't appa eat dinner with you?" "no, w- we- he picked me on the way when he saw me stranded in the rain. we didn't have dinner... together."

seungcheol's heart breaks and heals a little at the same time. he's taken the right step for now... but seeing his little girls like this have generated images and thoughts in his mind that he had shelved away forever.

the idea of a family.

the idea of giving them a new mother figure.

as he walks towards the kitchen, he can see the way sol and byul cling to you although they've met you barely half an hour ago. perhaps it's because they don't have any cousins and you feel like a sister? perhaps it's because they like bossing over adults, especially since they boss over him so much? perhaps it's because they've already been charmed by your magnetic appeal- your softness and your innocence, mingled with an intelligence that lets you befriend everyone.

"are y'all annoying y/n already?" byul immediately faux pouts, and he can see your eyes light up. "seungcheol, she looks exactly like you," your voice whispers with the revelation. "yes, she's my daughter. kinda expected, don't you think?" he laughs. it's sarcastic of course, because sol and byul actually resemble him more than any other father-daughter pair he's seen in his life. it's almost like they haven't gotten any of their mother's genes. and seungcheol doesn't really regret it. it's been nine years, he's gotten over that pain. his only regret is to not be able to provide a second parent to his children, who'd grown up in spite of being cut off completely by their mother. and his busy life has left him with no space to date or even think of marriage...

except right now.

right now, when he sees you wearing byul's nightdress that barely reaches your knees, cooking ramen with sol sitting on the kitchen counter next to you, chatting away about harry potter, and byul carefully carving out ice cream into bowls for the four of them, seungcheol thinks maybe it's time.

maybe he's found the one.

and maybe, he's already fallen beyond scope to return.

_

you didn't get much chance to talk to seungcheol last night, but when you wake up on the guest bed the next morning, you can see him as soon as you open the door. he's sitting in the balcony, sipping a cup of tea, reading a newspaper, his glasses sitting prettily on his nose.

"morning," your voice is still raspy in spite of your sleep being perfectly fulfilling.

he turns to look at you, his gaze uncharacteristically soft, much different from how he sees you at court.

"hi. tea?"

you nod, and wobble over to sit next to him. the tea clears your throat a lot, and you can finally open your eyes wide enough to see the glorious view from his balcony. so you soak in the nature for some time, while seungcheol buries his nose into the newspaper again.

"i didn't know you were a father."

seungcheol hums. "did you like them? my girls? they liked you a lot."

"can't help but not like them. they balance each other so perfectly- as if they're your twin personas."

"that's deep."

"but it's true."

seungcheol chuckles and goes back to his newspaper. the morning air hits your face and you feel so much more alive than you'd normally do on a thursday morning. "when do you have to get to work?" he asks you.

"i still have about an hour and half left."

"will you go home and then-"

"yeah. the office is really close to my place, like a minute's walk. so i'll leave soon, don't worry-"

"you'll stay for breakfast." seungcheol says firmly. "the girls will want to see you before you leave."

and you can't turn that down. so you simply nod in agreement, carefully taking a look at the man sitting across you. seungcheol at home is so unimaginably different from seungcheol at court. if he's fire in the courtroom, then he's water at home. he's cold and practical in the real world, but with his daughters, he's the most gentle person you've met. something about the soft smile he gives when he indulges his girls. something about the way his eyes light up whenever they talk to him about anything, even if it's trivial. something about the way he's taken care of you since last night, not just giving you a shelter during a terrible night but also giving you so much warmth from his personal life. it's all made you see a completely different side to seungcheol than you'd met at the courtroom, and it's changed the way you've grown to see him completely.

now you know that seungcheol was not harsh to you that day at lunch, he was simply being realistic. his cockiness and arrogance is just self-confidence, it doesn't define who he is as a person. and he's still a man you can look up to and admit, without shame, to yourself that this is the ideal man in your eyes.

your phone pings right then, and you open it to see the mail that's arrived.

the cup of tea almost slips and falls from your hands as you jump up in your seat in joy. seungcheol looks up at you in alarm, "what happened?" your smile is bright, just like the sun this morning. "i have an emergency at work, i'll have to leave now! please say goodbye to sol and byul from my side!" and you rush into your room to change into your clothes from last night, still damp but at least cleaner, and you literally run out of the house, waving and thanking seungcheol again and again, leaving him very very confused indeed.

_

seungcheol feels incredibly at peace the next day when he walks into the courtroom. even though you'd disappeared suddenly like that without any explanation, he's quite sure that he's back in your good books. not that it matters much- because what really counts is how he's feeling about himself. and after many years, he's feeling good. the usual guilt that engulfs him as a whole every day as he wakes up to face a new morning, isn't bothering him. he feels like he's achieved something, he's done something right, and he's going to get better from now on.

but as soon as he pushes open the doors of the courtroom, he feels like he's missing something out. everyone on his side of the bench seems flustered as hell, papers rumpled and expressions distraught. but he doesn't get an opportunity to ask what's going on because you catch his attention first.

"seungcheol, can we talk for a second?"

"not right now, i have to talk to my team-"

"this is urgent. you'll want to hear this, i promise."

seungcheol lets out a long sigh as he takes in your words. there's a crisp confidence in your words today that intrigue him. "okay go ahead," he finally replies.

"in private, if you please." he follows you wordlessly out of the room, and you lead him out towards a small isolated office in the corner of the building, that's totally deserted. seungcheol leans back against the closed door, completely silent as he waits for you to settle your papers and finally look up at him.

"so what's this about? you wanna kiss me or someth-"

"you're going to lose the case today. i've found enough evidence to prove the absolute guilt of KNT, and the ceo will go to jail by the end of the court session today."

"you're bluffing me."

"i can show you the evidence, but i'd rather you'd see it in court."

"then why are you telling me this now? to pity me?" seungcheol's mouth fills with bile as a dread settles over him. the tables are turned- now he feels as rattled as he had seen you feel that day at lunch. what if you're being serious right now? what if you've actually found incriminating evidence? but he's gone through all potential sources of evidence with his client, left no stone unturned to hide all tracks-

"so that maybe you can step off the case in time. do you really want your daughters to find out you've been defending your client for so long knowing you're defending a criminal?"

seungcheol's heart skips a beat.

"do not bring them into this."

"i'm not bringing anyone into anything. this is just me being nice to you because i know what it feels like to be disappointed by someone you look up to."

"do you hear what you're saying, y/n?" he takes two steps closer to you. "this is borderline blackmail. i don't even know if you're bluffing or not, and you're already blackmailing me using my daughters. have you fallen to the same crude level i'm in? are you going to disappoint me like this?"

his words have the expected effect on you. he can see your cheeks flush pink. "seu-seungcheol, don't twist my words." you take a step back, your back straightening as he sees confidence seep back into your face.

"and maybe you should stop worrying about my morals and worry more about how badly you're going to lose the case. from next time, don't make rookie mistakes." your finals words, before you leave the room, ring in his ears and cause goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.

as soon as you're gone, seungcheol slams the desk in front of him, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour. what might have slipped from his sight? what might he have missed? he immediately calls the ceo of KNT enterprises.

"what have you been hiding from me?"

"oh? mr choi, what happened to greetings? good morning to yo-"

"nothing's good about today morning, mr kim. what have you been hiding from me? i'm not going to ask you again."

"nothing! i've bared my entire soul to you for the case."

"mr kim, there's a fresh piece of incriminating evidence that's been found, and i cannot do anything to stop mrs hwang's lawyer from submitting it to the court unless you tell me what it is exactly."

"mr choi, you're mistaken, there's nothing left to be wiped-"

"the first rule of a client and lawyer relationship," his voice is seething and snarky, volume rising with each word, "is that you should never lie to your lawyer." seungcheol knows if mr kim was in front of him right now, he'd be quaking in his shoes. he can imagine a similar situation on the other side of the phone too. he knows he's intimidating enough when he wants to be.

"i didn't think it would be important-"

"you're not the person to judge what's important and what's not, mr kim."

there's a sigh and the voice becomes shaky.

"there's an outstation branch..."

_

the case ends unceremoniously. there are no paparazzi waiting for you outside the courtroom, ready to capture your life's first win. there are no cameras flashing on you, no historic moments being documented, no crowds gathering to celebrate this win for the masses.

there's just seola's happy tears and a wildly beautiful feeling of victory in your heart as realisation ultimately sinks in for you. it's a clean win- the evidence showing unmatched proof of orders coming from KNT to mr hwang, detailing all sorts of illegal activities and even records of payments being made to mr hwang. it's really crazy how it's not been eradicated cleanly already by seungcheol. clearly, either he or his client had underestimated you.

but you'd proven them wrong.

yoona's the only who comes to see you outside the courtroom after the win. there's a bright smile on her face as she hugs you and congratulates you. seola promises that she's going to take you out on a treat right now. other colleagues from your workplace call you to congratulate you on the win.

and yet you feel empty.

seungcheol's gone. he hadn't come for the trial. he'd not been in the courtroom for the final statements, his aide quoting something about a family emergency. he'd run with his tail between his legs, ashamed of his failure and finally realising his stupidity. this thought should be giving you satisfaction, but surprisingly, it doesn't. it leaves you feeling empty, still wanting something even though you've won the case just now.

but there's no way to reach out to him. you don't even have his number for god's sake, and it would be awfully awkward to go to his house. and what would you say? that you missed seeing his sad face in court when the verdict was announced? that you wanted to see if he'd be proud of you for winning the case? that you wanted to impress him by beating him in the case cleanly without any dirty tricks? so you go to eat out with yoona and seola, and decide to stop thinking about seungcheol any further.

_

it's about seven in the evening when you make it back to your tiny flat in a shabby part of town, the house dark as you'd left it in the morning after rushing home from seungcheol's place. you smile to yourself when you unlock your home using the password on the door, thinking of how you'd been with seungcheol's adorable daughters last night, and how much fun you'd had with them.

your bag falls from your hand as you open the door.

"seungcheol?!" your voice is a shaky whisper, shocked to see him inside your house. "how the fuck did you get in?"

he's still wearing the suit he'd worn in the morning, and yet he looks divine in the dim reflection of lights from the world outside the window.

"your password's your birthday. got it on my first try."

"and how do you know my birthday?"

he takes a step closer, his body towering over yours. "shhh. it's called knowing your opponent."

there's something so oddly intimate about seeing him in your flat, in the shadows of your home. the street light illuminates one side of his face, and you can't breathe because of how gorgeous he looks.

"why do you know my birthday, seungcheol? really it's not going to help you in any way-"

"it did help me get into your house."

you lightly pick up the bag from on the floor next to you, and you walk past him. "which brings me back to the first question. why are you here?"

you're purposely avoiding his gaze, the intensity making you feel things. there's a plethora of emotions in your heart right now- finally the emptiness in your heart dissipates as you can feel yourself surrounded by seungcheol. you're taking off your blazer, untying your hair, walking over to the sink to wash your face... but you can't ignore the way you can feel seungcheol's eyes on your back. his heady scent clouds your senses, and you feel weak in your limbs. first he's intruding your house, and now your heart too?

"i have a question to ask you." he speaks after a long time, when you've finally cleaned up and taken out a cup of strawberry yoghurt from the refridgerator.

"you could've asked me on the phone." you lean back on a wall, putting yourself as far away from seungcheol as possible in your tiny flat. he's in the darkness, you're in the light, but you're still feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.

"i couldn't. it's serious." he starts walking towards you.

"seungcheol, if this is about me trying to expose your shit, i'm not going t-" seungcheol puts his hand on your lips, pushing you against the wall.

"fuck that. this isn't about that."

you cock your eyebrow, mumbling against his hand, "then what is it about?"

seungcheol doesn't answer at once, his gaze continuing to pin you against the wall, and a hand comes around you to trap you between his bigger body and the wall. "seungcheol?"

"answer me honestly, okay?" his voice is raw, slightly wobbly, and you're getting more and more curious. you nod slowly, encouraging him to say whatever's on his mind. but he doesn't say anything. a few minutes pass just like that- or maybe an hour. his scent makes you dizzy, you can't think of anything but how his big figure is over you totally.

"when you said you looked up to me in college... i know i ruined that image. b- but... can you... fuck. wait. canyoueverforgiveme?"

"what?" you ask, confused at what he just said. he removes the hand from your mouth, standing even closer than before.

"can you ever forgive me? will you let me show you a better side of me? can i ever get in your good books again?"

your breath stops for a second. why does this matter for him? doesn't he already know the state he's left your heart in since last night- ever since he'd brought you into his car, he's already been promoted to your ideal man again.

"show me a better side of you? what do you mean, seungcheol?"

he sighs for a second, before straightening his posture, becoming impossibly even bigger.

"will you ever see me as a man, y/n?"

your knees almost give in. the fuck is his implying? are you dreaming this? is this a fever drea-

seungcheol leans in and kisses your cheek, close enough to your lips, his breath falling on your skin, and making your body tingle. "will you let me show you myself to you like this?" on instinct, you tilt your head away to give him more access, your body shivering with the intimacy. so he kisses your cheek again, closer yet to your lips, and you turn your head slightly to capture his lips, but he moves away.

"y/n, don't leave me hanging please. i know you might find this odd... but i've come to feel things for you that i didn't even know remained in me. you're an extraordinary woman, one of a kind. in all my life, i haven't met anyone like you. not even my ex-wife. you don't know this yet but you're the ideal image of perfection i've always thought of."

then he stops talking for a second, clearly expecting an answer from you. but your mind can't form words, not with the way you have tunnel vision on his face right now, your eyes drifting to his pretty cherry lips, to his long eyelashes, to the beautifully expressive eyes you've fantasised about since your college days.

"y/n, say something please." his voice is desperate, and you break out of your daze.

"you're my ideal man too, seungcheol. you have no idea for how long." there's a blush creeping on your cheeks, but in the dim yellow lighting, you can see an identical blush rise on his cheeks too. so you lean in and finally kiss his elusive lips, feeling the taste of his chapped but pretty lips on yours, feeling the way his body steps even closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him, and your body melts as you feel the warmth from his body. the kisses slowly grow in pace, the momentum rising, as he kisses you more and more hungrily, his tongue entering your mouth too, as he begins to bite your lips and leaves you breathless and moaning just from a few kisses.

"god, rookie. you sure know how to kiss."

"i know how to do a lot of things, seungcheol." you know you're bad at dirty talk, you've never really succeeded at it during your few college experiences of sex. but somehow, seungcheol's eyes roll back at your words and you feel his heartbeat quicken up too. maybe it's working on him?

you try to test your hypothesis by gently wrapping your hands around his neck, slowly untying his tie, slipping it to the floor. once it's off, you rub your hands all over his chest, feeling the pure hard muscle flex under your muscles. his breathing is as hot and heavy as yours, and you slowly untuck his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning it carefully.

"must you torture me like this, y/n?" his eyes are glazed over, but you look up at him innocently. "what, seungcheol?" "fuck it, you're such a tease, princess." princess. he pushes you against the wall and kisses you again, one hand wrapped around your hair as he pulls you in, and another hand helping you unbutton his shirt and get it out of the way. seungcheol doesn't stop kissing you even when he begins to unbutton your own shirt, but his hands wander all over the skin he slowly unravels. it's like his own adventure mission, the gentle but urgent way he touches your skin, almost worshipping.

"you're so perfect, y/n." you whimper when he cups your breasts from over your simple black bra that does nothing to flaunt your tits, but somehow seungcheol's appreciating it all. are you really his perfect woman?

"do you mean it, seungcheol?" your voice is so weak, but it takes seungcheol aback. "what do you mean, y/n? you don't think i find you beautiful? is that why i've been dreaming about you every night these days? is that why you're always on my mind? is that why i died and came back from heaven last night when i saw you with my kids?" your breath hitches as he tilts your face to look at him. "you're the most perfect woman i've ever met, i told you. you've gotta believe me, y/n. or do i have to show you?"

"maybe, yes?"

he groans at your words, and his eyes become darker. "fuck, where's your bedroom, babe?"

_

seungcheol's touch is like moonlight caressing the ripples of a pond at midnight. a soft, gentle touch that lights up every inch of your skin that he touches. as the moonlight kisses the water and makes it ebb and flow with it, seungcheol's movements guide your body too. he's laying you out on a bed, his hands wandering all over your skin. as he takes in your figure, you let him, because he's making you feel so good. he kisses all over your body, your limbs tangling as you can't get enough of each other. seungcheol is all muscle, his hard planes flexing against your supple skin. he pins you against the headpost of your small double size bed, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other caressing your breasts, making sure there's not even a single inch of your skin that's left untouched.

"did i tell you i think you're perfect?" his words are feverish, and leave you lost for words. so you can't reply to him, hoping he gets the way you feel about him too through your desperate whines and moans, pulling him closer if he puts even a hair's distance between your bodies. something about him being so big and engulfing your smaller stature is so hot, you can feel yourself getting aroused by the minute.

"seungcheol, i w- want to... touch you," you finally whisper out, and he pulls away from where he's been kissing your neck. "but you are?"

you shake your head and shove him lightly until he's on his back, and you're hovering above him. he's still wearing his pants while he's stripped you naked, so you do the honours for him. "what are you doing," his voice is strained. "want to touch you there," you focus on taking his trousers off until he's just in his underwear under you- his bulge quite obvious to you. if you weren't wet enough earlier, seeing the massive wet patch on his grey boxers leaves your own underwear soaked. is he this aroused because of you?

seungcheol seems to read your mind as he brings your face towards his own, whispering with hot breath, "do you see what you do to me, princess? got me wrecked and ruined." his confession is so raw, you lean in to kiss him again. as you do, your hand wraps around his clothed dick, and he groans into your mouth. "fuck fuck fuck," he curses as you begin to rub it softly. "i'm going to cum right now if you do that- babe, p-please!" he finally gets your hand off his dick, eyes large.

and then you giggle. something about seeing seungcheol so desperate triggers something off in you, makes you more determined to ruin him. so you pull off his boxers and take his erect, red cock straight into your mouth. seungcheol's body trembles with surprise, your name leaving his mouth in broken moans as he cannot take the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off in an excruciatingly slow speed. and you don't stop, even when his hand comes around the nape of your neck to keep you in place, even when you feel his entire body tense up with the imminent orgasm. you don't stop until he comes inside your mouth, spewing string after string of his hot seed, and you swallow it all. his breathing is laboured as he watches you lick off the last bits of the orgasm from his dick.

but your self-satisfaction of having the upper hand only lasts for so long. seungcheol's competitive side kicks in soon and he quickly flips over to pin you under him on the bed, his teeth nibbling at your chest, leaving pretty hickeys all over.

"let me return the favour, darling."

you don't know what he means right then by return the favour, but never in your wildest dreams, did you think it would include seungcheol burying his face into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue laps up your wetness.

"fuck! no- seungcheol- pl-please, cheol!"

"do you want me to stop?" he asks you, his face barely moving up inches from your pussy to look into your eyes.

you hesitate before answering, so he softly kisses your stomach. "tell me, princess."

"i've never done this before..."

"what? sex?"

"no. oral. like no one's ever gone down on me before..."

and seungcheol doesn't waste another minute. he uses his teeth to push aside your panties and inserts his tongue right into your sloppy cunt, and you scream out his name. he doesn't go slow, and you don't want him to go slow. he's showing you all the stars in the sky, so you grab onto his hair to move his head back to a particularly good spot, and he moans incoherently when you tug at his locks. and within minutes, you're reaching your high, your screams getting stuck in your throat as you close your eyes and arch your back off the bed.

thankfully, seungcheol gets his face out of your cunt and hovers over you to take in your writhing figure under the impact of the orgasm.

"so how was your first experience?" he asks you when you finally open your eyes and look at him, his lips smeared with your essence and his body.

"heavenly," you whisper, before pulling him into you, and kissing him again. you can get drunk on his kisses. he's leaving your lips abused and raw, but when he's spitting into your mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling the toughness of his back muscles shift under your touch. this position ends up making his cock graze against your clit, and you jerk in overstimulation. but you can feel how hard he's getting with the kissing and the way your hands are tugging his hair. the heavy length rests on your stomach, and seungcheol pulls away.

"need to be inside you now, princess." his words have this rawness to them- long gone is the smooth-talker lawyer choi seungcheol. it takes several moments for you to process that you've caused him to descend to this desperation.

"do you have a condom?" he asks you.

"hmm, i do." you point towards the dresser next to your bed, and he casually bends away to take it out from the dresser. you're getting more turned on by his easy flexibility, and as soon as he's got the condom rolled on to his dick, you pull him for kisses again.

"patience, baby," he laughs, as he pulls away again after kissing you, to nudge the tip of his dick on your folds. "nooo, need you now. need your lips." "did my kisses break you?" "i think so," your voice is a whisper and he leans in to kiss you again, a beautiful smile showing off his dimples.

and then he's slowly pushing inside you, making you whine out his name as you feel him stretch you. it's not an easy fit, but his kisses make the pain easier to bear. when a tear escapes your eyes, he asks you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "is it very painful?" "not very but it's been a while." he leaves kisses on your hairline. "i'll be gentle, princess."

you grip his locks tighter, pulling his face away to make eye contact.

"you better not dare, choi seungcheol."

something breaks in him. his hips begin to move faster, as he pushes your hands above your head, holding them as if handcuffed, and he's biting hickeys all over your neck. he's thrusting harder now, and your second-hand bed is already making noises. but it seems to arouse you more for some reason. something about him shaking everything around you and moulding you and everything about you to him makes you want him more.

you can't stop moaning his name, as he whispers into your ear, "i can feel how close you are baby. can feel your cunt clenching around me." "pl-please, cheol. need you more, please!" "more? faster?" you nod feverishly, and he pulls away, biting his bottom lip in concentration, one hand gripping the bed, and the other your leg around his waist, as he fucks into you.

you take in his full form, towering over you like adonis. beads of sweat falling down his pecs and his hair falling into his eyes. the sight is so beautiful that you cum right then, even as seungcheol fucks you through the orgasm.

you can feel that he's close, his dick twitching inside you, as he's making your eyes roll back. even after one orgasm, he keeps fucking you. "give me one more, baby. cum with me." and then he shifts one hand to rub your clit, and you moan under the additional touch. the last straw is when you clench around him so hard that he lets out a strangled moan and reaches his climax too. you can feel the condom become warmer, and you tremble all over as you cum again because of that sensation.

when your eyes open again, seungcheol's pulled out from you, but he sneakily lets in a finger in between your folds and licks it clean.

"seungcheol?" your broken whisper makes him look up at you.

he smirks. "you taste like nectar, baby."

_

seungcheol's insomnia doesn't let him get a full night's sleep on most nights. if he's lucky, he'll sleep for four hours at once, dreamless rest that leaves him fully charged for the next day. on other days, he'll stare into the night sky for hours, sleep eluding him. some nights he'll go to his daughters' room, and watch them sleep, his heart filling up with a warmth that's comforting like chicken soup. on other nights, he'll open his laptop, put on his glasses and finish his case files.

everyone wonders how seungcheol is so efficient at his profession. only he knows why.

but ever since you've come into his life, everything's changed.

he can no longer focus on work. he's distracted, making silly typing errors and forgetting details. but he's sleeping the best ever in a long time. he doesn't remember when was the last time he'd slept this well. it must've been before the fights had started with his ex-wife.

today, seungcheol sleeps for eight hours straight.

and he knows why.

it's because he's wrapped around you, your body melting into his under the duvet. your head's resting on his arm, but his arm doesn't hurt at all. your hair shines with the sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the curtains, but you sleep through the slight pouring into your eyes. you look particularly angelic today morning, and he feels his entire being shiver with the new-found affection for you.

you're his.

finally.

well, hopefully.

jeonghan had told him yesterday when he'd told him about his feelings for you, you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot.

and oh, he had shot his shot. shot it too fast in fact. the clarity of the morning makes him suddenly worry if going straight into your bed last night had been too quick and you'll think poorly of him now. then there's the worry about you going to sleep without eating dinner last night- what if you wake up angry? another worry crops in his head as he realises it's a saturday. he doesn't have to go to work today, but you might have to. what if you get upset at him for not waking you up on time? the warm, glorious light in seungcheol's heart dims slightly as he realises you have so many reasons to turn him down.

so he lightly shakes you, whispering your name in your ear, until he feels you whisper out a soft five minutes. it makes his heart melt again, but he's more worried about you missing a work day.

"wake up, princess, you're going to be late."

as if hearing a magic word, you jolt awake, staring right into his eyes.

"late?! what's the time? fuck, it's nine-thirty!"

"it's saturday though. do you have work today?"

and then you fall back on his arm with a huff.

"saturday! of course i don't have work today. why did you wake me up!" you whine and turn around so that you're now snuggled into seungcheol's bare chest, your hair only slightly tickling him. the warm light in his heart shines bright again as he feels you cling to him.

"i didn't know if you work on saturday or not." seungcheol leaves a kiss in your hair, and you let out a satisfied sigh.

"now you know. never forget, okay? never wake me up on weekends."

never forget.

"i won't." another kiss in your hair. another sigh that makes his chest buzz. another kiss. and then you open one eye to peer at him, and he smiles at your cuteness. so there's another kiss, and then another, and then-

"stop!" you move out of his arms, giggling, your eyes finally open.

"i can't. you're too cute."

"shhhh!" you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, a gentle peck, and seungcheol takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arms again. "don't go far away." he's more serious that his tone implies, but somehow you realise that too. so you snuggle in closer, your head almost on his chest now. "i won't."

after a few long minutes of you being still in his arms, and him smelling your scent through your hair, you finally shuffle and pull him down so that his head is now resting on the pillow and you're resting your head on your palm, perched on the pillow using your elbow as support, looking down at him with clear fondness in your eyes.

"you're very romantic today, mr choi."

"do you not like it?"

"no. on the contrary, i love it."

at your words, he smiles, and you let out a fake gasp. "the rabbit has dimples!" and you attack his face with kisses, leaving him giggly and blushing as you smother him with love.

when you're finally done, he pulls your face in for a kiss and then you go back to your position to look at him from above.

"come lie down next to me."

"no this view is prettier."

seungcheol scoffs, hiding the way his heart is racing with your words. it's been years since anything barely romantic- a few dates here and there. but this is teenage seungcheol again, falling head over heels for a girl with a pretty smile and a cute way of speaking her mind.

"this view is the prettiest," he says and he's rewarded with your pretty smile again. so he spends a minute staring at the view, taking in your beauty.

you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot. somehow jeonghan's nagging voice comes up in his head again and makes him remember that he's yet to ask you properly.

so he counts to three and says it.

"i like you, y/n. a lot. as i told you last night."

a strawberry latte blush taints your cheeks.

"and as i told you last night, you're pretty much my dream man, seungcheol. i've been crushing on you since my freshman year."

well that was easy.

"that long?" seungcheol feels his confidence cruise back, a smirk on his lips.

"don't laugh at me."

"i'm not. it's just unbelievable that you liked me back then. i wasn't even well off back then."

"who even cares about that! you were confident, manly, intelligent and passionate about your work. and so, so handsome. how could anyone not like you?"

"am i not handsome now?"

"of course you are, silly. that's why i still like you." you roll your eyes, as if it's so obvious. "i couldn't even date guys for a long time because i kept comparing them to you in my mind."

seungcheol's eyes go wide. "wait, really? that's kinda sad."

you laugh. "maybe, but who cares? none of them were nice in the end. that's why i kept going back to crushing on you." you lean in to kiss the mole on his cheek.

"how long has it been since your last relationship?"

"hmmm, about seven months? broke up before i graduated."

"and sex?" he hopes you can't see the way he's holding back his breath as you answer. "about a year."

and then he lets out his breath.

"and you?" you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.

he hesitates before replying. "nine years," his voice is weak.

and then you do what he's been fearing for so long.

you laugh.

"wow. that's like... that is long." but your expression changes into a serious one soon. "but you haven't lost any of your technique yet. so it's a win in my books. i don't even have to be jealous of anyone else. who was your last lucky lady?"

"my ex-wife." seungcheol winces as he mentally prepares himself for all the reasons you might turn him down.

but you don't. your serious expression remains even as you're surprised. "you were married? is she the mother of sol and byul?"

"yeah."

you nod your head slowly, digesting the information. after a second you say, "i can't fathom why anyone would leave you and your two perfect little girls."

seungcheol's smile turns bitter. "she did. but it doesn't matter. she's found a better life now, after moving away to the US with her new husband. and i've found a better life too, moving away from her."

you nod again. "you're very brave, cheol." and you kiss his cheek again, and seungcheol's heart swells at how maturely you've handled this conversation. but there's yet more reasons for you to reject him.

when you pull away to look at him again, you softly ask him, "are your daughters okay with the idea of you dating again?" dating. there are tingles all over seungcheol's body as you finally quash all worries from his mind. "i haven't explicitly discussed this with them," he says with some hesitation. "that being said, i think they like you a lot. you made a very strong first impression. and trust me, for ten year olds as stubborn as mine, a first impression is all that matters."

"they're just like you," you giggle, your hand fondly cupping his cheek. "but seriously. they like me as a friend... as your colleague. what if they don't like me as your... girlfriend?"

girlfriend. seungcheol wants to flip you down on the bed and make love to you all over again, but he resists his urge. he settles for wrapping his hand around your hips and caressing them. "they'll love you, princess. they've longed for a mother figure for long enough." after a pause he says, "i'm worried they'll not see you as a mother figure but as a sister."

you burst out laughing. "what?!"

"i'm much older than you, y/n."

"so?"

"i'm thirty-six, y/n."

"that's not old. i'm twenty-three."

seungcheol chokes on his own words. "exactly. i'm literally old enough to be your father, y/n."

"well, you'd have to become a father really really early then," you say, laughing.

"y/n, be serious."

"i am being serious. i've met men who're twenty but act like they're forty. what really matters is what you've got here-" and you poke at his chest where his heart's supposed to be.

"i'm going to die thirteen years before you!"

"darling, i don't think that's how death works."

darling. seungcheol's heart hammers against his chest as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. and then you pull away from him. "you're a dilf, seungcheol. that's like 80% of why i'm attracted to you. bet i wouldn't be attracted to twenty-three year old you." there's a teasing glint in your eyes, but seungcheol still whines as he feels upset at your teasing words. "babyyyy!" you laugh at his deepening pout, and lean in to kiss his pout in a peck, before getting out of bed.

seungcheol's mouth falls open as he takes in your soft curves which look even more alluring in the daylight. something about the way your ass sways as you walk makes his dick twitch in interest, but seungcheol curses himself. he can't be thirty-six and this hormonal, for fucks' sake.

you open the closet door to pull out a loose t-shirt and shorts, wearing them without any underwear. "do you want to stay for breakfast?"

a lazy grin spreads on seungcheol's face as he stretches his body in bed, relishing the way you ogle his stretching biceps, and he casually pushes the blanket away from his hips to reveal his toned stomach to you too.

"i want to stay for the rest of my life, rookie."

he's left with no doubt of reciprocation of his feeling as he sees the blush on your face as you hide and run from him at his cheesy words.

[angelsfat3]

ⓘㅤ 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋. ⠀⠀( 崇拜我的罪恶，先生。)

𝓢ummary “ ✉. In a time when women were burned for using reason and men were supposed to follow the words of God, a demon took possession of a beautiful young man to teach a lost priest, to love.

⠀،،⠀Genre. ’ Sci-fi, drama, religious au.

( 𝒄/𝒘. )───Repression, forbidden fruit(?), teasing, tension, religious trauma.

The confessional was nearly dark, illuminated only by the faint flicker of a candle on the nearby altar. You, the priest, sat on the small bench, trying to steady the tremor in your hands as you heard footsteps approaching.

You knew who it was even before he knelt on the other side of the screen.

“Father [...], the world has always been this way, ever since Adam and Eve tasted the forbidden fruit,” Ni-ki began, his tone not just penitent but laced with something darker, something far more intimate. “We were born with sin inside us… as if it were part of our flesh.”

You knew what his words meant, what he was truly trying to say.

You bit your tongue for a moment, tasting the danger in his confession. You responded carefully, your words measured to avoid suspicion but firm like a warning.

“Sin always lies in wait, Ni-ki,” you said with a calmness that barely masked your own turmoil. “But don’t forget that redemption exists, even for the most tormented hearts.”

What you didn’t say was that those very words had failed you on so many nights when the flesh spoke louder than your faith, when your spirit surrendered to Ni-ki.

From the other side, Ni-ki let out a short, almost imperceptible sigh, but to you, it sounded like a scream.

A heavy silence settled between you. You could feel his breath on the other side of the screen, and you knew he was wrestling with himself. Finally, his voice broke the stillness, trembling and barely audible:

“What if… what if sin doesn’t just lie in wait but calls to me? What if my soul leans toward it, as if I can’t resist?”

Heat rose to your face, and you gripped your knees tightly to maintain your composure. You knew him too well.

You knew he wasn’t just talking about sin in the abstract; he was talking about you, about what you’d shared in those fleeting moments where the world seemed to vanish.

“Ni-ki, sin always waits for us, but our will must be stronger than the call of anything that leads us astray,” you said, your voice steadier than your heart.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either—not when you yourself had strayed so many times toward him, toward his lips, toward the abyss of his body.

“Well, we are human, and… the flesh is weak, Ni-ki,” you said, the weight of your own words almost unbearable. “But we must not give in. Each time we fall, we drift further from the grace that has been granted to us.”

“And what if my will isn’t enough?” Ni-ki pressed, his breathing growing heavier, as if your words hurt him as much as they hurt you. “What if there’s no hope for those who have already fallen?”

The question struck you like a dagger. You knew he wanted you to tell him yes, that there was hope, that what you shared wasn’t condemned. But you couldn’t say that—not here, not ever.

The confessional turned into an oven, the air so thick it was nearly impossible to breathe. Your hands clenched into fists on your knees as you fought the tremor in your chest.

Finally, you leaned closer to the screen, lowering your voice even further.

“Ni-ki… none of us are worthy, but don’t forget that God’s mercy is infinite. No matter how far you think you’ve fallen, there is always redemption… but only if we are willing to let go of what drags us into the abyss.”

Your words felt hollow, even to you. You knew they spoke of him, of the two of you, of the secret you shared that, if discovered, could condemn you both.

Ni-ki didn’t respond immediately, but the silence that followed wasn’t one of repentance. It was one of restrained desire, of something no prayer or penance could erase.

The silence was unbearable. You could imagine his expression on the other side—the mix of pain and frustration you’d seen so many times in his dark eyes.

“And what about you, Father?” he finally whispered, his voice sharp enough to leave you breathless. “Can you let it go?”

The question hung in the air, both an accusation and a plea. You felt your lips move, but no words came out.

You didn’t have an answer because you knew, despite the guilt eating away at you, despite every moment with him being a reminder of the risk you were taking, you couldn’t imagine a world where you didn’t seek him out.

But you couldn’t say that.

“Pray, Ni-ki,” was all you could manage, your voice breaking at the end. “Pray that we both find the strength we need.”

Finally, you heard his voice again, barely a murmur.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned… and I will sin again.”

A chill ran down your spine. You couldn’t see him, but you knew his eyes were fixed on the screen, searching for yours through the thin barrier.

You closed your eyes and clutched the crucifix hanging from your neck, trying to remember why you had chosen this path.

You heard him stand, his steps retreating slowly, but you didn’t dare to look. You remained there, in the dim light, the unspoken words weighing like chains around your heart.

You knew that when the day ended and the shadows once again blanketed the village, you would seek him out. And that would be your true sin.

The echo of Ni-ki’s footsteps should have faded, but the silence that remained was unsettling, as though something unseen had filled the space.

You stayed seated on the bench of the confessional, your trembling hands clasped tightly in front of you, searching for solace in the words of your own prayer.

Then, a sharp sound shattered the moment. The door on your side of the confessional creaked open. You looked up, your heart stalling for an instant.

Ni-ki stood there, framed in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the faint glow of the candles. His dark eyes bore into yours—not with the softness or the pain you had grown used to seeing in him.

This time, there was something else, something that made your skin crawl.

He remained silent, his lips slightly parted, as if the words refused to leave. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, as though caught between the urge to move forward and the fear of crossing a line from which there was no return.

But what unsettled you most was what you saw in his eyes: a dark void, a need that didn’t seem human.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. You were frozen.

You could only stare, paralyzed by the intensity of his presence. He was Ni-ki, and yet he wasn’t. The gentle warmth that always lowered your guard now seemed overshadowed by a darkness that made him look… different. Unreal.

Finally, you drew in a breath, trying to regain your composure.

“Ni-ki, what are you doing?” you asked, though the question came out as little more than a whisper.

He didn’t respond. He stepped into the confessional, and his shadow seemed to stretch, swallowing the space between you. There was no fear in his gaze, but neither was there comfort. It was as though he was about to consume you with his eyes.

“You… look different,” you continued, your hands gripping the edge of the bench to steady yourself. “What is it that you need?”

His reply was barely audible, an echo that seemed to come from some deep corner of his being:

“You.”

Your chest tightened, and the air seemed to abandon you entirely. But there was something in the way he said it—something not like the restrained passion you knew. It was something else, something that chilled you to the bone.

You closed your eyes and began murmuring a prayer, the words spilling from your lips in desperation.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

Ni-ki took another step closer, and the heat in the small cabin became suffocating. You could feel his gaze on you, intense and heavy, as if he sought to strip more than just your resolve.

“Hallowed be thy name…” you continued, your hands now trembling uncontrollably. “Deliver us from evil…”

Ni-ki’s voice, softer yet laden with that inhuman intensity, cut through your prayer.

“Do you think that will save you from me?”

Your eyes snapped open, and you saw him so close you could barely breathe.

Ni-ki’s face was mere inches from yours, but his expression was that of someone caught between suffering and ecstasy.

He was real, and he was here to claim you.

Your breaths came shallow, barely enough to keep you conscious as Ni-ki’s gaze pierced through you. His eyes, as dark as the deepest night, glimmered with something you couldn’t name—something that made the air feel heavier, as if reality itself bent to his will.

Ni-ki raised a hand slowly, his fingers brushing the wood of the confessional as though savoring every grain. His voice, low but filled with a power that didn’t seem human, broke the silence.

"You cannot pray against what is already within you, Father."

The words struck like a weight on your chest, stealing the air from your lungs.

This place, sanctified by so many prayers and penances, now felt like a battleground where the sacred and the profane faced each other head-on.

"Ni-ki, you don't know what you're saying," you murmured, though even you doubted your own words. Your voice trembled, unable to hide the fear creeping into your heart.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression almost... curious. His lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes.

"Don’t I?" he replied, taking another step closer, so near now you could feel his warm breath against your skin. "Or is it you who doesn’t understand what we are?"

The word we echoed in your mind, an unrelenting whisper that refused to fade.

You shook your head, trying to hold onto reality, to what you knew to be true. But even as you did, you felt your conviction crumbling like a sandcastle under an unstoppable wave.

"This isn’t real," you insisted, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your growing despair. "Ni-ki, you... you’re not this."

His smile widened, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes, a spark that made you instinctively retreat against the pew.

"Not this?" he asked, almost amused. "Then what am I, Father? The frightened boy who sought comfort in your words? Or the man who has patiently waited for you to stop pretending?"

The intensity of his gaze made you look away, but you couldn’t escape the weight of his presence, which seemed to fill every corner of the confessional. It was as if he were absorbing the light itself, leaving only shadows in his wake.

You tried praying again, your lips moving quickly as you muttered.

"Deliver us from evil, amen. Deliver us from evil..."

But Ni-ki leaned closer, stopping you with a hand that lightly touched your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His fingers were warm, but his touch sent a chill down your spine.

"Stop fighting," he whispered, his voice so soft it felt like a caress. "The evil isn’t outside of you, Father. It’s here. With me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, every beat reverberating in your ears as you tried to pull away from him. But you couldn’t.

Not because you lacked the strength, but because something in his gaze held you still, as if you were caught under a spell.

"Ni-ki, please..." you managed to say, though your voice broke into a whisper.

He leaned even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours.

"Please what?" he asked, his tone dripping with a mix of mockery and something darker, something that sent shivers down to your very bones. "Please stop? Or please stay and make me yours?"

The tension was unbearable, and you felt your will falter. Deep down, you knew you were on the brink of something from which there was no return, something that would challenge not just your faith but everything you believed yourself to be.

And then, Ni-ki smiled—that same smile that now seemed to belong to someone—or something—entirely different.

"Choose, Father," he murmured, his voice soft, yet the words thundered in your mind. "But remember... you can’t save us both."

The silence that followed was suffocating, laden with a palpable tension that seemed to freeze the air between you. Ni-ki didn’t look away, his smile cutting into you like a blade.

His hand remained on your chin, holding you with a gentleness that only made the situation more unbearable. You could feel the warmth of his skin, but the touch burned as if marked by something unholy.

"Why do you tremble, Father?" he whispered, leaning even closer. His breath brushed against your lips, and his dark gaze glimmered with a mix of challenge and... delight? "You shouldn’t fear me. After all, you’re the man of God, aren’t you?"

"You cannot pray against what is already within you, Father."

The words struck like a weight on your chest, stealing the air from your lungs.

This place, sanctified by so many prayers and penances, now felt like a battleground where the sacred and the profane faced each other head-on.

"Ni-ki, you don't know what you're saying," you murmured, though even you doubted your own words. Your voice trembled, unable to hide the fear creeping into your heart.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression almost... curious. His lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes.

"Don’t I?" he replied, taking another step closer, so near now you could feel his warm breath against your skin. "Or is it you who doesn’t understand what we are?"

The word we echoed in your mind, an unrelenting whisper that refused to fade.

You shook your head, trying to hold onto reality, to what you knew to be true. But even as you did, you felt your conviction crumbling like a sandcastle under an unstoppable wave.

"This isn’t real," you insisted, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your growing despair. "Ni-ki, you... you’re not this."

His smile widened, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes, a spark that made you instinctively retreat against the pew.

"Not this?" he asked, almost amused. "Then what am I, Father? The frightened boy who sought comfort in your words? Or the man who has patiently waited for you to stop pretending?"

The intensity of his gaze made you look away, but you couldn’t escape the weight of his presence, which seemed to fill every corner of the confessional. It was as if he were absorbing the light itself, leaving only shadows in his wake.

You tried praying again, your lips moving quickly as you muttered.

"Deliver us from evil, amen. Deliver us from evil..."

But Ni-ki leaned closer, stopping you with a hand that lightly touched your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His fingers were warm, but his touch sent a chill down your spine.

"Stop fighting," he whispered, his voice so soft it felt like a caress. "The evil isn’t outside of you, Father. It’s here. With me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, every beat reverberating in your ears as you tried to pull away from him. But you couldn’t.

Not because you lacked the strength, but because something in his gaze held you still, as if you were caught under a spell.

"Ni-ki, please..." you managed to say, though your voice broke into a whisper.

He leaned even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours.

"Please what?" he asked, his tone dripping with a mix of mockery and something darker, something that sent shivers down to your very bones. "Please stop? Or please stay and make me yours?"

The tension was unbearable, and you felt your will falter. Deep down, you knew you were on the brink of something from which there was no return, something that would challenge not just your faith but everything you believed yourself to be.

And then, Ni-ki smiled—that same smile that now seemed to belong to someone—or something—entirely different.

"Choose, Father," he murmured, his voice soft, yet the words thundered in your mind. "But remember... you can’t save us both."

The silence that followed was suffocating, laden with a palpable tension that seemed to freeze the air between you. Ni-ki didn’t look away, his smile cutting into you like a blade.

His hand remained on your chin, holding you with a gentleness that only made the situation more unbearable. You could feel the warmth of his skin, but the touch burned as if marked by something unholy.

"Why do you tremble, Father?" he whispered, leaning even closer. His breath brushed against your lips, and his dark gaze glimmered with a mix of challenge and... delight? "You shouldn’t fear me. After all, you’re the man of God, aren’t you?"

You tried to speak, but the words died in your throat. You were paralyzed, caught between the urge to push him away and the unknown abyss his closeness threatened to drag you into. Ni-ki noticed, and his smile widened, malicious and taunting.

"You know," he continued, his voice low and seductive, every word falling over you like drops of venom, "I’ve always wondered if your prayers were as sincere as you claimed. Now I see they’re not. Not when you tremble like this... with me so close."

He released your chin slowly, but he didn’t move away. His hand trailed downward, grazing the collar of your cassock, his fingers toying with the edge of the fabric, as if tempted to tear it away.

His gaze never left yours, and every movement he made was laced with a clear intention: to make you fall.

"Young lamb of God... this has to stop," you finally managed to say, though your voice was barely a whisper. Your words, however, only seemed to amuse him further.

"Stop?" he repeated, tilting his head with feigned confusion. "Why should I? Isn’t this what you wanted with me?"

The audacity in his tone hit you like a punch. You stared at him with a mix of disbelief and horror, but he was unfazed. He took another step closer, closing the distance between you until there was no space left to breathe.

"Don’t say you didn’t want this, Father." His voice dropped lower, a whisper dripping with insinuation. "I’ve seen how you run your fingers over your lips after they brush against mine... Always thinking no one noticed. But I did. I always did."

Your mind filled with fleeting images—of all the times you’d allowed your gaze to linger on him too long, of all the nights you’d battled thoughts that had no place in the life of a priest.

Ni-ki was tearing through every layer of your defenses, exposing you without mercy.

He leaned in until his face was level with yours, his dark eyes glinting with something deeper, something more terrifying.

"Tell me, Father," he asked, his tone mocking, "how many times have you prayed to be freed from me? How many times have you begged your God to strip this ‘sin’ away from you?"

His fingers, playful yet deliberate, trailed down to your chest, brushing against the cross hanging from your neck.

"You know what I think?" he continued, leaning even closer, his lips grazing the skin of your ear. "I think not even He can save you from me."

Your body reacted before your mind did. You pulled away abruptly, rising from the pew and stumbling back a few steps. But even then, the image of Ni-ki standing there with that wicked smile haunted you.

He didn’t move, but his gaze followed you—intense, inescapable.

"Where are you going, Father?" he asked, his tone feigning innocence, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his true game. "To hide behind your office again?"

Desperation overtook you, and you began murmuring a prayer, the words tumbling clumsily from your lips.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, I beg you for your son...”

Ni-ki laughed—a low, dark sound that echoed through the space like a sinister refrain.

“You really think that will work?” he asked, openly mocking you. “Pray all you want, but you know you can’t resist this. You can’t resist me.”

His confidence, his audacity, cut through you like a twisted blade. You wanted to scream, to cry for help, but there was no one else. No one who could understand what was happening—not even you.

His eyes, dark and searing, were locked on yours. There was something in his gaze you couldn’t fully decipher—something between desperation and defiance, as though he were on the verge of breaking something inside himself... or inside you.

“What will you do now, Father?” he asked, his tone barely a whisper yet powerful enough to drown out the prayers you were trying to recite. “Will you cast me out? Or will you fall to your knees before me, as you’ve done so many times in your mind?”

Your breathing was erratic, your hands trembling as you clung to the rosary like a lifeline.

But Ni-ki offered no reprieve. His face was now just a breath away from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your lips moved without purpose. “Ni-ki, this... this isn’t right,” you managed to say, though your voice was barely audible, a broken echo of your feeble resistance.

He tilted his head, and the smile on his lips softened, though his eyes still burned with an intensity that stripped away every defense you had.

“Not right?” he repeated, his tone laced with mockery but tinged with something deeper, something painfully intimate. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t desire me anymore, and I’ll leave.”

His words pierced you like a knife because you knew you couldn’t say them. Not without lying. Not without betraying the truth you buried deep inside yourself. You tried to look away, but his hand rose, warm and firm, cradling your face with a tenderness that starkly contrasted the storm of emotions he’d unleashed.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice deeper, more commanding.

Your heart pounded fiercely, each beat reverberating in your ears like a war drum. The space around you seemed to collapse, until all that existed was him—his face, his eyes, the overwhelming intensity of his presence that engulfed you like a tidal wave.

“Say it,” he whispered, demanding, his thumb grazing your cheek softly as his eyes flicked to your lips. “Say it, and I’ll leave.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because in that moment, the truth became unbearably clear. Ni-ki wasn’t just your temptation—he was your surrender.

And then it happened.

He leaned in, closing the remaining distance between you in an instant. His lips crashed against yours—firm, insistent, brimming with an intensity that could no longer be ignored.

It was a deep, desperate kiss, laden with everything both of you had suppressed for far too long.

Your mind screamed in protest, reminding you of who you were, where you were, what this meant. But your body—treacherous, rebellious—did not resist. Your lips moved against his, responding with the same desperation, as if you were both drowning, and this was the only air you could share.

The taste of him—somewhere between the bitterness of the forbidden and the sweetness of the inevitable—imprinted itself on you. Your hands, which had initially pushed against him, betrayed you by clutching his shirt, pulling him closer.

His hand on your face slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place, while his body pressed into yours, erasing every inch of space between you.

The world seemed to stop.

The confessional, the church, even the cross hanging above you vanished, eclipsed by the sheer intensity of the moment. This kiss wasn’t just an act of passion; it was a battle—a war between who you were and what he made you feel.

Ni-ki let out a low sound, almost a stifled groan, and his body pressed harder against yours, making it clear this was not a fleeting lapse in judgment. It was a cry, a desperate act born of something deeper than either of you could admit aloud.

When he finally pulled back—barely an inch—the spell broke, leaving you both gasping, your breaths mingling in the charged air. His gaze bore into yours, the darkness in his eyes more intense than ever.

“I knew it,” he murmured, his voice rough, laced with a dangerous satisfaction. “You couldn’t even stop yourself.”

His words left you paralyzed, unable to respond as your thoughts spiraled. But Ni-ki didn’t wait for an answer. With one final look, heavy with unspoken promises, he leaned in again, brushing his lips against yours in a gesture almost tender.

“This isn’t over, love.” he whispered before stepping back slowly, his smile returning with a victorious edge. “This is only the beginning.”

And with those words, he left the confessional, leaving you alone, trapped in a silence that no longer felt sacred, your lips still burning from his touch and your soul staring into the abyss he had opened within you.

The wood clicked softly as you slid the small door shut, sealing yourself off from the rest of the world. The confined space, once a refuge for penitence and absolution, now felt charged with something entirely different. Your breaths came quick and uneven, as though the air itself refused to fill your lungs.

Your mind was chaos.

Images of Ni-ki—his dark gaze, his malicious smile, the heat of his touch, and, most vividly, the memory of his lips on yours and his tongue invading your mouth—were seared into your consciousness like a burning brand.

Every time you tried to push those thoughts away, they came rushing back, stronger, dragging you into the moment you had just shared.

Your hands trembled as you attempted to entwine your fingers with the rosary still hanging around your neck, searching for an anchor, a lifeline to pull you from this inner storm. But instead of solace, you found an insatiable hunger, a need that consumed you from within.

You closed your eyes, leaning your back against the wooden confessional as if the cold surface could extinguish the fire raging beneath your skin. But it didn’t.

The heat coursed through your chest, your throat, every part of you, an unstoppable tide that left no room for reason.

Your hands, which had sought refuge in the rosary, slowly fell, almost as if guided by some force outside your control. They grazed your neck, where the ghost of Ni-ki’s fingers still lingered, before trailing down to your chest, tracing the fabric of your cassock. Your breathing quickened as your fingers pressed lightly against the material, as though trying to erase the weight of his touch—or perhaps summon it again.

Guilt began to rise, but it was quickly drowned out by a wave of desire you couldn’t contain. The echo of Ni-ki’s words resonated in your mind, every syllable a spark that fed the fire within you.

“You can’t escape me.”

A shiver ran through your body at the memory of how he had said it, how his lips had formed those words while his gaze devoured you.

Your hands continued their journey, sliding past your waist, your fingers tracing lines that burned even through the cloth. It was as if the memory of him was etched into every fiber of your being, impossible to tear away.

It was a matter of seconds before you slipped one of your hands inside your pants and underwear, caressing and squeezing your manhood. At that moment you just wanted to break free, as you always did when you were alone in your office or room.

At that moment, the confessional ceased to be a holy place. Its sanctity had been lost the instant you allowed yourself to succumb to the desire Ni-ki had ignited. Your lips, still swollen from the kiss, parted with a soft sigh as your free hand clutched at your cassock, as if the simple gesture could release some of the pressure consuming you.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against the wall of the confessional, your ragged breaths filling the small space. It was a struggle, a battle between what you knew was right and what your body craved with terrifying intensity.

“This is a sin...”

You knew it, but the knowledge wasn’t enough to stop you. The weight of your faith, which had always been your guide, now felt like an impossible burden to bear. And deep within your soul, you recognized the truth you had been trying to deny for so long.

You didn’t want to stop.

Your voice escaped in a barely audible whisper, a mixture of plea and despair.

“God, forgive me... for I am being dragged down by Satan’s lust...”

But even as you spoke those words, your hands continued to move, one clutching at the fabric of your cassock while the other traced your body with an intensity you had never allowed yourself before. In that moment, there was no room for regret—only for the raw, overwhelming desire Ni-ki had left behind, like an indelible mark etched into your very being.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ I know almost nothing about the church or religion itself, so I made up most of the prayers...

+ New stories on the way, I promise. 🙂‍↕️︐⠀📍

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

"edge of tonight" part eighteen ~ the intervention

pairing: namjoon x reader (lots of platonic ot7 x reader) rating: T 16+ genre: mafia au, angst this part: Jimin is just as much of an asshole as you thought he was. But he helps. tw: mafia au!, angst, lots of swearing, tragic backstories, allusions to and talk of sexual abuse (nothing explicit) and abuse in general, talk of manipulation, interventions word count: ~6.2k track #21: Surrender ~ MALINDA: “But that was then and this in now, and we made it through the woods somehow, fighting to keep what we've won.” the edge of tonight masterlist an: i can't believe i got this out so quickly. who even am i. what has possessed me. will it continue. who know. anyways, i hope you enjoy this chapter! it's jimin's redemption chapter and i have been waiting for it since i first wrote "the bar". please let me know what you think! a little comment or dm goes a long way to helping me get through writing the next parts. thank you so much for reading!!

No, no, no. This was not what you wanted. This was not what you planned. This was not at all how the past five minutes were supposed to go.

Jackson isn't the only one who can fuck you stupid.

You were stunned silent. Park's words threw you off even more than his actions. That wasn't what you wanted, either. You never wanted to sleep with Jackson, it was usually just a byproduct of him helping you turn your mind off. At some point you stopped caring about Jackson's need to fuck you entirely, more concerned with the end result of a quiet mind.

A very small part of you, in the very back of your mind, wondered, why do you stop thinking when you have sex with Jackson? But you weren't in any physical or mental position right now to think about that.

You didn't want to think anymore. You wanted Jackson. You needed Jackson.

And this wasn't Jackson. This was Park Jimin and he wasn't what you needed. His eyes bore down into yours, still devoid of any amusement or lust. There was only fierce determination and a quiet concern that threw you off even more.

"Th–that's not what I—"

"Isn't it?" Park interrupted you. "Isn't that what you were talking about down there? How you're thinking too much and you need to make it stop?" You especially didn't like how he was throwing your words back at you. They sounded wrong coming from him.

They once sounded wrong coming from Jackson, but you had stopped caring about that, too.

"Breaking news, beautiful: Jackson isn't the only one who can fuck, and I'm a hell of a lot closer."

No, no, no. You didn't want to have sex with Park Jimin. He wasn't the right person, he wouldn't get it right, he wouldn't be able to shut your brain off properly. You tried shaking your head, but the movement came across stilted and jerky. "Don't touch me," you weakly demanded.

"I’m not touching you," came his unyielding response. That denial gave you a small spark of anger again, something you could hold onto and grow until you could fight back against him properly.

"Yes you—"

"Check again, beautiful," Park interrupted you a second time. Your lips started curling into a sneer, even as you did as he said.

One of his legs was between yours, and his arms had you caged in on either side. But you also noticed a slight shake in his shoulders, a subtle shiver that didn't come from adrenaline or anticipation.

Park wasn't on you, he was over you. He was holding himself up, keeping you trapped beneath him by his proximity, but his body was not touching yours. The smallest part of you relaxed, but it wasn't enough to quell your anxiety or your growing anger. "Get off of me."

"Not until we talk."

"Can we not talk like this?"

"Are you gonna make a break for the door as soon as I'm off?" He countered.

It took you several breaths before you could honestly answer, "No. I'll stay and we can talk."

Park looked deep into your eyes, trying to gauge how genuine you were, then fully pushed himself up and climbed off the bed. You rolled off the edge as soon as he was on the other side of the room, sitting on the soft carpet and pulling your legs up towards your chest. You were also able to take in Park's décor: everything was red. Red curtains covered the windows, velvet by the looks of it, like you would see on a stage, blocked out any sunlight that would've come in. Red sheets on the bed, red wallpaper with darker red filigree accents, red carpet even. The lights were soft and warm, adding a gentle ambiance to the space, and the furniture was made of a deep mahogany that complimented the rest of the colors.

It was like he thought himself a goddamn prince, and had his room made to show it.

"The chaise is softer than the floor," he said, nodding towards the furniture on the opposite side of the bed. Your eyes flicked to it over the mattress, you could see the curling build of the backrest with more red fabric, but looked back at Park just as quickly. So far, he was unaffected by your death glare. "Or you can get back on the bed. You know it's not going to hurt you, right?"

You avoided his question, instead bringing up one of your own: "Everyone keeps trying to tell me that you're actually really nice, so what the fuck is your deal, Park?"

That got a sarcastic laugh from him. "I would love to be nice to you," he responded with just as much intensity as you were throwing at him, although none of the venom. "But being nice to you isn't getting you anywhere, so someone's gotta be an asshole and I guess that someone is me."

"Why can't you just back the fuck off instead?" Why couldn't he just leave you alone? Everyone else left you alone! And you were doing just fine!

"Because that's what everyone else is doing." Okay, him reading your mind was starting to get weird. Park turned away, heading over to the wall. You heard him open something as he continued, "And backing the fuck off led to you trying to go back down to Jackass in Busan."

"Jackson." Something closed as you corrected him.

"Jackass," he insisted. He pulled a glass out from somewhere, you couldn't quite see, and poured himself a glass of wine. "Champagne?" Park asked, offering you the drink as if you two weren't in the middle of an argument at that moment.

"Seriously?" He already knew you barely drank, but the fact that he couldn't have this super serious discussion with you—that he wanted to have!—while sober was mildly offensive. He only shrugged, sipping at the glass instead. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Plenty," Park answered nonchalantly between sips. "The real question is, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

The angry, confused glare you were giving him was exactly what he wanted. Jimin needed to keep you angry—not angry enough to actually kill him and run off, but enough that you would continue being genuine. He didn't know what anger was the only thing that got through the cloud of Jackson inside you head, why it was the only thing that made you truly honest, bust as long as it did he was going to exploit that as much as he could.

"Excuse me?" Was all you could manage to say in response, so completely blown away by his accusation that you weren't sure how else to.

Park pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly tapping at the screen until he found what he was looking for. Placing the glass of wine down on top of the fridge, he held up one finger at a time as he read to you from his phone. "One: you don't use beds for anything other than sex. Two: you barely get enough sleep because you aren't sleeping comfortably to begin with, along with nightmares you still have which you occasionally take sleeping pills to try and bypass. Three: you can't stand closed doors because they make you feel trapped, and opening a door will wake you up from whatever stage of sleep you're in. Four: you zone out or fully dissociate unless someone is actively engaging with you, or a door opens. Five: you self-harm, usually with your fingernails, to help get you out of panic attacks that you have way too often." He looked up at you. "I'm out of fingers on this hand, but I can keep going."

For the second time in ten minutes, you were stunned silent by Park's words. Having a list like that read back at you, as if you were in trouble and these were all the things you had done wrong, made you uncomfortable in an unfamiliar way.

"Those are just things I do," you said, choosing to remain ignorant, desperately holding onto that flame of anger from before.

"No," Park placed his phone next to the wine glass, "those are unhealthy coping mechanisms you have to deal with or ignore the effects of your traumas instead of properly addressing them and healing. Normal people don't do this kind of stuff."

Thankfully, he was making it easy to stay angry. "Normal people haven't gone through what I did!"

"Yeah," he said, "exactly. What you've gone through isn't normal, so what you're doing isn't normal, but you keep acting like it is. And the more everyone around you keeps letting you do that, the worse those coping mechanisms get until you reach a breaking point."

And a breaking point you had reached. "I'm done." Park was talking down to you, and you had had enough of it, especially from someone who didn't understand you, who didn't know you or know what you'd been through. You stood up, readjusting your clothes on your way to the door, but Park was relentless.

"Nothing is ever going to get better if you don't work at making it better."

You turned on your heel. "How do you know I haven't tried to?"

"Because you're actively trying to go back to the first person who enabled you—who probably gave you these coping mechanisms to begin with!"

"You don't know anything about him!"

"I know everything I need to know!"

"Get off your fucking high horse, Park!"

"Not until I kick Jackass off of his!"

"I'm not you!" You were taken aback by your words. You weren't sure where that admission had come from, but saying it out loud helped you calm down a bit. Lowering your voice, you continued, "I get it, okay? You're normal and I'm not. But I'm not you."

"No, you're not," he agreed, matching your tone. Actually, now that you thought about it, he had matched your tone this whole time, never trying to be louder or drown you out. It wasn't how your arguments with Jackson went, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was the smallest bit refreshing.

He paused for a moment, letting the energy in the room quiet down as well. He made direct eye contact with you, and something about the earnest, sincere way he looked at you kept you from looking away. "But I was once you."

The fire of anger that had been burning bright inside you died down quickly after that. You even took a step back, not fully understanding what he was saying. "What do you mean?" you asked softly.

Jimin took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff. He knew he'd end up telling you about it, he knew it was the only way you'd finally listen to him and take him seriously. He'd prepared himself for it as much as one could. But it was never easy talking about it. "My parents divorced when I was 10," he started, his voice stable but quiet. "My mom took my little brother to California, where I'm sure they've been living their best life. I was left here with my dad, who was so torn up over everything that soon after his sister was given full custody of me."

Park paused to pick his drink back up, downing the rest of the glass in one go, and you thought that maybe his drinking was due to the story he was about to tell you. You listened, still concerned, still confused, but you decided to let him get it all out without interrupting him. You slowly lowered yourself back to the floor, making yourself comfortable as he continued.

"My aunt lived here in Seoul, in a big, beautiful penthouse. I asked her what she did to afford such a place, and she told me she ran a club. I asked if she would take me there and she said that if I was good she would let me come to work with her sometime." He looked over to the curtained window, as if he were staring out at the horizon instead of red velvet.

"So I was. I worked hard, getting the highest grades in school, making sure every centimeter of that penthouse was spotless. When she learned I liked dancing, she enrolled me in the best dance classes. She told me if I was good there too, she would take me to her club and let me dance. So I did. I became the best dancer in every class, quickly moving into more advanced ones. And she was proud of me."

You could easily recognize that feeling, that wanting to be praised and loved and good. It was why you clung to Jackson so hard when you were still in that room—the only person who treated you with any modicum of kindness, who made you feel like a person rather than an object. It was why you needed to go back to him so badly.

"I was 14 when she finally took me to her club. It was mesmerizing. Glitter everywhere, brandy, cigars, men and women in dressed to the nines throwing money at scantily-clad men and women dancing on the stage. She had me put on a costume, as she called it, and let me go perform. I was the youngest that crowd had ever seen, but my god, the way I raked in money for her…"

Jimin trailed off, getting lost in the memory. The blinding lights, the stench of alcohol and smoke and sweat and something he now knew was sex, the money that littered the stage floor. If only he could go back, if only he could tell his younger self that going to that club was a mistake… but he couldn't change the past. What happened is what happened. He was here now, and that's what mattered.

"Jimin, she told me that night, I have a favor to ask. You know how much money I've spent on you, making sure you have every need taken care of and you want for nothing. I have a way you can start paying me back." Those words had been engrained in his mind since she uttered them to him in one of the hallways upstairs. "Told me Mr. Gu had paid her a very large amount of money to spend some time with me, and all I had to do was listen to him and do as he says for 45 minutes. After all, I owed her of all she had done for me."

You owe him your gratitude, you recalled Jimin telling you months ago, you don't owe him your body. Slowly, piece by piece, a lot of what he had said and done to you started making a bit more sense.

"Carried on like that for three years," he continued, "before she finally got caught and sent to jail, and the club was shut down." Three years was one year short of how long you were in the room, but he was also younger than you when it started.

"Why did you do it?" You didn't mean to ask, but the words found themselves tumbling out of your mouth.

Jimin looked at you for the first time since he started his tale. "I owed her," he said, as if that alone explained it all. In a way, it did. "She had given me everything, and that was how she wanted me to pay her back. There was also the looming threat that if I didn't comply with what she wanted, she would start taking things away, and I didn't want that either."

Guilt and fear. Jackson had done the same with you for years. At some point you stopped caring.

A very small part of you, in the very back of your mind, wondered, when had you stopped caring?

"Having a tragic backstory doesn't give you a reason to be an asshole," you said, though not nearly as mean as you wanted to be. Jimin's lips curled up in a barely-there smile.

"Taehyung and his uncle took me in after she was sentenced, but I was lost without her. She was my everything. Working for her was the only way I knew to gain validation. If she was happy with me, then I was happy. I visited her in jail every week, told her I was working on a way to get her out. I was trying so hard to still be good for her." The barely-there smile turned into a wry one. "That's how I got involved with the Underground, and I dragged Tae with me, though he'll tell you he came willingly to make sure I didn't get myself killed."

Slowly, as to not startle you or spike your anxiety, Jimin started shuffling towards you as he went on. "For two years, Tae and his uncle handled me gently. They understood I was going through some difficult things, and for the most part left me alone. So, I went out every night and got drunk and had sex with anything that walked on two legs. It was shortly before we first met Namjoon that Tae finally snapped. He decided that he'd had enough of watching me waste my life away for someone who only cared about how much money I could make her. He went from leaving me alone to being an asshole. He made sure I ate real food and actually drank water, made me work on things that actually mattered, and didn't let me drink or fuck unless it benefitted the job we were working on—which, at that time, was looking for you." You felt your cheeks heat up just a bit at that.

"For the following two years I fucking hated him for it. Why couldn't he leave me alone again? Why did he have to be such an asshole about everything? I was doing just fine before his intervention. I didn't need his help." That sounded almost verbatim what you had said to him over the past few weeks, since he decided to stop leaving you alone. Suddenly a lot of things Jimin had said or done to you was making a lot of sense.

"I hated it," Jimin repeated, "but it worked. Slowly but surely, I got my life back together, finished high school, and fast-tracked a degree in psychology with an emphasis on understanding trauma that comes from abuse and how to manage, cope, and eventually heal from it." He stopped moving, now significantly closer to you, but still kept his distance. "Going through something traumatic literally rewires your brain, and there are people out there who will recognize that and, instead of offering you help, they will take advantage of that and reinforce the rewiring. I don’t need to know everything about Jackson to know what he's done to you. My Jackson was my aunt."

You actually felt a pang of sympathy towards Jimin. Maybe the two of you weren't so different after all. Still though…

"I wasn't abused." The words were short, stunted almost, like you had to force them out. Jimin only raised an eyebrow at the statement. You quickly amended it. "I mean, in the room, yes, I was, but not in Busan. Not by Jackson." Now he raised both eyebrows, looking down at you, radiating are you serious right now energy.

"Y/N," Jimin said quietly, almost reverently, the way you would expect Namjoon to say your name. He knelt down, joining you on the floor, to make direct eye contact with you again. "Are you genuinely telling me that you don't see the similarities between what happened to me and what happened to you?"

You wanted to say that you didn't see them, but lying felt impossible. You looked down, unable to handle the weight of his gaze. "It's different," you said instead. "You were younger, you didn't know what she was doing."

"And you knew?"

"Of course I knew!" Your eyes snapped back up to his, a small fire of anger lighting again, but this time your anger was directed at yourself. "I was raised to be a manipulator, I knew exactly what was happening, I just—" You dropped your head into your hands with a groan, and it took you several breaths before you could continue. "I was so scared. He got me out. He could take me back. I didn't want to go back."

He gained your trust. He gave you what you wanted. Then he isolated you, made you depend on him for everything, all under the guise of caring about you. Every time you tried fighting back, he fought back harder, always with the looming threat of taking away his protection, of letting you get swept up by some Busan gang and used all over again or even ending up back in the room.

You were scared. So you played along. And, eventually, the constant fear made you tired, made it harder for you to fight back against him. Made it easier to give in and just let it happen.

Made it easier to stop thinking.

You always knew what Jackson was doing. You knew of his manipulations and how much control he had over you. For years he had worn you down, until you were fully caught in his web, uncaring, so fucking tired, until you became what he wanted just so he would leave you alone. You had always been able to see it, you simply chose to ignore it, and thus willingly gave him more and more power over you until he had it all. Until it was too late.

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes. Angry tears. How could you have let this happen?

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice was gentle, soft, in a way you had never heard directed at you. This must have been the nice Jimin everyone kept telling you about, the one that was sweet and kind and cared too deeply and too much. You heard him scoot closer to you, and you lifted your head just enough to see him. Suddenly his company was very much wanted, and you couldn't rationalize the reason why.

"You know it's okay to cry," he said. "It helps, actually. Grieving is an important part of healing."

You shook your head. "I'm not grieving anything."

"You're grieving the loss of a very large part of your identity. Jackson, my aunt, they both found us at extremely vulnerable moments in our lives, times when we were broken, and they put us back together in the way they wanted us to be. They built us up so that they were our foundation, and when that foundation was taken away, we became broken again, lost, and desperate to have back what we knew."

Damn, he was using that degree. Because he was right, again. Despite all that had happened in Park Jimin's room so far, such a large part of you still longed to go back to Busan, to go back to Jackson, back to that familiarity. Jackson broke you with that phone call, and you've been trying to rebuild yourself by doing things he would want you to do, until your own efforts weren't enough and—

You reached a breaking point.

You tried blinking the tears back, but too many had welled up. Several spilled over, trailing down your cheeks. "Fuck you, Park," you muttered with no real ferocity. You wiped at your face, trying to stop crying.

Jimin leaned forward, opening his arms. "Can I?" he asked. It was strange that he asked for you permission to hold you, but what was stranger was that you accepted it. With a quick nod, Jimin was right in front of you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. There was something so gentle about it that made you let the tears flow. You didn't sob, you just cried silently, grieving the loss of who you were supposed to be, of who Jackson was to you. Jimin rubbed your back and softly told you that you were going to be okay.

After a few minutes, he pulled back, wiping your face with the end of his sleeve. "How do you feel?" he asked, still quiet, still gentle. You weren't sure how to answer. The tears had mostly stopped now, but you weren't sure if that was indicative of anything. You were still angry at yourself, angry at Jackson, still shocked by the way Jimin was treating you now. Overall, you were still tired, but something about it was different now. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to pinpoint what had changed.

"Better?" Jimin suggested. "Worse? The same?" That gave you some guidance. Thinking it over—shocked you were okay with thinking so much right now—you realized what it was, what had changed.

There was an ever-present weight in your soul that was exhausting to carry every waking moment. But now, it weighed a little less. Just a touch. Not enough to truly effect you, but enough that you could feel it. You felt a little bit lighter, breathed a bit deeper, thought a bit clearer.

"Better," you said. Your voice was slightly hoarse from the crying, but there was a stability to it you hadn't heard yourself use in a long time. "Just a little bit."

How could one conversation do all this to you?

"That's good," Jimin nodded. "Even feeling just a little bit better is good. Here." He moved to stand both of you up, and you followed his guidance without objection. Your legs were slightly wobbly from the position you'd been in, but he helped keep you steady. Once you were balanced he sat on the edge of the bed, still keeping contact with your arm, holding it gently. You could slip out of his hold or shake is hand off easily if you wanted to, but the touch was comforting. You blinked back the last of the tears, wiping your cheeks one last time to clear the remaining tear tracks away, and then stared at the spot next to him.

Jimin smiled. "I promise it won't eat you," he said with a small laugh, before turning serious again. "And neither will I."

You swallowed, but decided to take a chance. Taking a deep breath in, you let it out slowly as you turned around and sat next to him, the mattress dipping to accommodate your shared weights. Part of you was still on high alert, waiting for the inevitable moment when you'd be on your back again. The other part was repeating Jimin's words. The word promise didn't mean anything to you anymore, except maybe now it did. Maybe now it meant what it was supposed to, and people could be held to their word.

"What are you thinking about?" You were thinking too much. "Don't try to say you're thinking too much. Just say what's on your mind. Talking with someone helps almost as much as crying."

Your initial reaction was to fight against that. Talking never helped, it just gave Jackson more ammunition to use against you, to control you. Except— "You're not Jackson."

If he was thrown off by your words this time, he didn't show it. "Correct."

"So, you're not going to treat me like Jackson did."

"Also a correct statement. In fact," he added, "no one here is going to treat you like that."

"Then why do I keep expecting everyone to?" You asked, more to yourself than to Jimin.

He answered anyway. "Because that's what you're used to, and it's going to take time to get you used to something else, something different. But it can be done. You can change."

"What if I can't? What if I'm stuck like this forever?"

Jimin squeezed on your arm just barely, just enough to keep you grounded in the here-and-now, to keep you from spiraling. "It feels that way right now, but you won't always feel like that. And someday, you'll look back and you'll be amazed by all the progress you've made."

"How will I know if I've made any progress? What does progress even look like?" If he was going to keep answering your questions, no matter how existential, you were going to keep asking them.

"Progress looks like little things, every day, that slowly push you towards who you want to be. For you specifically, I'd suggest eating full meals and interacting and socializing with people outside the seven of us, and eventually sleeping on a bed throughout the night." You flinched at that thought, but you couldn't deny he was right. "Listen, Y/N, I know how hard healing is. I still haven't fully healed, and I've been away from my abuser for as long as you've been in Busan. It sucks. It's hard. It hurts."

"You are not making a good case for healing right now."

Jimin chuckled. "It's worth it. Aren't you tired of feeling so tired?" You weren't sure if he was expecting an answer, but after a moment you nodded. "That's why I started being such an asshole. Everyone else has been letting you be tired, because they don't want to make you uncomfortable, but someone's got to push you to do things that will help you, even if you'll be uncomfortable at first."

You nodded again, taking in everything he'd said. You wouldn't like doing what he suggested. It would make you uncomfortable. But you were uncomfortable crying too, and that ultimately turned out to be in your favor. So maybe Jimin was right about this too.

"How long does the uncomfortable last?"

"It'd different for everyone," he shrugged. "Some of the people we work with are fine within a handful of weeks. Others take years, and I know there's a few we've gotten out of the country who are still going to therapy. It took me about a year before I started feeling less tired."

You bit your lip. You had a feeling your healing was going to take a long time, probably a number of years. Especially since, despite your revelation and current feelings— "Part of me still wants to go back to Busan," you admitted softly. Part of you wished it wasn't true.

"Part of you will, for a long time. There's going to be this cognitive dissonance in your head for a while, a fight between what you want to do—like going back to Busan—and what you know you should do—literally anything besides that. You need to remember that that familiarity is only going to hurt you more in the long run."

Of course going to see Jackson now would only hurt you more. Of course it was going to take a long time for you to undo all that rewiring, to build yourself up into who you wanted to be. The only thing left was to figure out who you wanted to be.

There was one last thing you wanted to ask him. "If I start to lose my mind again, can I count on you to be an asshole?"

There was that classic Park Jimin smirk. "Of course, beautiful. No one else is gonna do it, so it might as well be me. There is one condition though, well, two actually." You raised your eyebrow, wondering what conditions he was about to offer you. "First, you need to tell me when you start thinking about going back before you start to lose your mind."

You nodded. That was acceptable, and understandable. "And the second one?"

Jimin stood up, finally releasing your arm and leaving you alone on his bed. "You need to make sure Namjoon-hyung doesn't kill me for what I did today." That, somehow, got a laugh out of you, one that almost sounded genuine.

You also stood up, shaking your head. "Namjoon isn't going to kill you." You started heading for the door, Jimin joining you this time.

"Of course he won't, because you're going to convince him not to." Jimin opened the door, letting you exit first. "Also, and this is just a thought, but you should really try to rebuild that relationship you used to have with him. It doesn't have to get romantic any time soon, but having the bare minimum contact with you is slowly driving him crazy, and at least talking more would be good for both of you."

You knew he was right in that regard as well. You did tell Namjoon you'd try. Maybe you should actually start trying. Maybe it would help you heal, too.

You and Jimin went downstairs together. Namjoon was there in the living room, pacing back and forth as Taehyung tried telling him that everything was going to be fine and Jungkook stood off to the side looking worried and a bit guilty. All three heads snapped towards the two of you.

"Don't kill Jimin," you said bluntly. "He helped."

"Are you going to kill Jimin?" Namjoon asked back, eyes going back and forth between you two. You couldn't tell if he was more concerned for you or angry at the younger.

"No," you answered, brushing past him towards the kitchen, "he helped."

"You're not calling him Park," Taehyung pointed out. And no, you weren't. You hadn't even been thinking of him as Park since he started being nicer to you.

"I told you it was going to work," Jimin said.

"But you didn't need to go about it like that," Tae shot back. It seemed the two of them were about to go at it again. You heard two pairs for footsteps following you, Namjoon and Jungkook you assumed.

"She was about to go back to Busan. Besides, you once handcuffed me to the radiator to keep me from going to the prison!"

"And I've admitted that wasn't my proudest moment!"

You pulled the fridge open, choosing to let the two arguing members fade into the background. "I'm fine, guys." You turned to look at Namjoon over your shoulder. "Really, I am. He really did help me."

"You look like you were crying," Jungkook said quietly, not wanting to point it out but he was also very concerned about what his hyung had done.

"I did," you admitted, "and it helped." You wondered how many times you were going to have to say that before they left you alone about it. You went back to looking in the fridge. "And now I'm hungry."

"You should drink some water, too," Namjoon said, much calmer than before. "Crying dehydrates you." You had a small idea at his words, and Jimin's.

"Would you get me some water?" You asked him softly, looking at him again. It wasn't anything romantic, not by a long shot, but it was a small step in what you hoped was the right direction.

Namjoon was thrown off by your request, but quickly recomposed himself and did as you asked. Jungkook took that as his cue to leave. Someone had to tell Jimin and Tae to take it somewhere else.

"H-here," Namjoon stuttered as he handed you the glass. You smiled softly as you took it.

"Thank you."

You sipped at the cool water, relishing the moisture. You drank half the glass before you put it down and closed the fridge. "What were you doing before Bunny Boy called you in?"

Namjoon smiled sheepishly (the way you used to love) and looked down. "I was actually at the studio with Yoongi-hyung, finally working on some things with him. I should probably be getting back soon. He was pretty upset that I was ditching him."

"Could I come?" you asked before you could talk yourself out of it. "You weren't really dressed to go to the gym anyway.

Namjoon looked back up at you in shock. You hadn't expressed wanting to go anywhere with anyone out of the estate, unless it was with Hueningkai off to find more information. This was new. But it wasn't a bad thing. It was actually what Jimin had been telling all of them about for weeks now. Namjoon decided to finally listen to him, especially since you kept saying that he helped you.

"Sure, yeah, of course. If you want to." Real smooth, Namjoon, he thought.

You smiled again, and Namjoon felt his heart flutter at the sight of it. "We could get takeout on the way? Yoongi won't eat while working unless someone forces him to."

Namjoon nodded, unable to find it in himself to deny you. "Sounds good. Yeonjun's waiting in the garage, if you're ready to go?" You nodded, then grabbed the glass of water and downed the rest of it.

"Let's go," you said, heading towards the door. Namjoon followed you after a moment, wondering what exactly had gone down with you and Jimin. He thought for sure he'd have to pull you off of him before you finally beat him to death. But when he arrived at the estate, Taehyung was telling him that there hadn't been any violent noises coming from Jimin's room so everything was probably okay.

And maybe it was. Maybe Jimin did help you, in the way Jimin helped everyone they worked with. Maybe things would finally start getting better.

thank you everyone for reading!! just a heads up, school starts for me on the 22nd, so updates will probably get more spaced out again. still can't believe i got two chapters out in less than two weeks. please leave a comment or ask about what you thought and what your predictions are for the upcoming parts (the next one is the end of act 2 so you know things are about to get dicey). and let me know if you want to be on the new taglist!

[bloogers-boogers]

Deadbeat dad au!

Second part!

Previous >> Next

Damian's eyes grew wide in excitement, he went pass Lucifer and stepped closer to Michael.

"Holy molly! The Michael archangel? They say you retired! I heard so much about you from the stories of the fall and some of my heaven friends told me about their own version."

Michael blushed embarrassed with sparkling eyes, looking Damian from head to toe with admiration, "ah, oh- ha.. yeah. That's me! Wow! you're so tall!" Blabbering out nervously his eyes spiral in circles uncontrollably; unsure of what to say.

Lucifer growled even louder as he blocked Damian from getting closer to the archangel.

"Stay away from him, you don’t know what he's capable of," he told Damian, as he glared with burning red eyes at Michael like a predator, "what're you doing here?"

"Dad." Damian tried intervening, thinking his father was seconds away from attacking, which wasn't so far off from what he wanted to do.

Michael's eyes winced as he forced a smile, "your dad huh?"

Damian tilted his head a little before realization struck, "oh! I suppose that makes you our uncle!"

"No. It makes you nothing." Lucifer declared in a snarl. He got closer to Michael in a warning. "You better get out of my fucking house."

Michael lifted his hands in a surrender, "isn't this the hotel for redemption?" He asked carefully. Showing no intentions on leaving.

"Yes!" Charlie blurted out enthusiastic, she got closer to Damian and Lucifer, and took a step forward towards Michael. "Welcome to the hazbin hotel! I'm Charlie! And this is my brother Damian," she scooted closer to Damian and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him gently, "and you already know my dad.." she laughed nervously as she gesture her obviously pissed off dad.

Michael just smiled with a nod. His eyes intensely stuck on Damian.

He was immediately pushed backwards with a golden apple staff, stumbling a little from his feet. His eyes met Lucifer's.

"Why did you come back?" He hissed, his burning fury evident, "you're out of service." He chuckled sourly awaiting for a reply.

Michael took a deep breath, not wanting to cause a scene, "I came back. I’ve decided to serve heaven again and.." his eyes fell on Damian again. Making the young man tilt his head confused on the repetitive behavior.

Lucifer laughed loudly as he held his hand firmly on his forhead seemingly not believing it, there was no humor within his tone, it was more of a habit to keep his sanity in check.

He stopped, gaze falling back on the archangel; cold and intense, "and what?" He warned, he tilted his head almost challenging.

Michael swallowed a bit of saliva before answering, "nothing.. I- I was informed about this hotel. I wanted to know more about it. Now that I've taken back the position as leader I want to be more in touch of what I've been missing."

Damian and Charlie shared a look with wide streched smiles, "Holy shit/molly! Ofcourse! Come on in!" They screamed simultaneously as they push passed Lucifer and encouraged Michael to come right into the hotel.

Michael can still feel Lucifer's eyes burning into his skin from his back to his chest. He swallowed even harder but slowly turned to look at Damian. His gaze soften as the young man kept on rambling about the history of the hotel and the sources of each painting. This was his son. His Crystal.

[frogpols]

You talked about many AUs, but i would like to know if you have a main idea you think about how kiraboss met for the first time, is kinda hard for me to think about it without putting a lot of casuality on it

Also this is bassist kira and drummer boss!

LEL That is a brilliant gif, litcherally them, thankies for sharing this peak.

And that is a brilliant thingie to talk about. I may go on about AUs just because there are many ways (whether fairly believable and canon-compliant, or just silly and casual) that Kira and Diavolo could meet, and a bunch of various ideas in the way they'd actually interact in said meeting (or beyond). But of course, that's a given for ships involving characters that are never shown to have met. I do find that huge amount of room for creativity very intriguing.

Anyway, if I were to put something at the top of what seems believable (ie, what'd seem like a natural extension to the source material, less random), it'd be post-canon Kiraboss. In their latest depictions (I'm fairly confident DMQ is canon), they're both shown to be in a very peculiar purgatory state that no other named character from what I recall is fated to, let alone among the main antagonists (they just float to the sky (die), be entirely erased, or literally stay alive on the same existential plane forever). Given that unique inherent connection between those two major characters specifically, I thus think it wouldn't be super random/casual(?) for them to... well, be connected or perhaps form some deep kinship in a hypothetical JoJo spinoff. There'd be purpose in a story like that since there'd be the opportunity to expand upon the ghost/afterlife logic in the overall JoJoverse. (Not to mention kira and boss redemption if we may sympathize with them...)

Now, if we were to go earlier so that we can have the original Kira and Diavolo as Kiraboss, they can very well meet pre-canon, maybe even be close, and their correspondence (casual or deep) wouldn't have to interrupt their main stories. But while I don't believe anything is stopping Diavolo from going to Morioh through Doppio (since I'd reckon they can travel pretty easy with mafia swag and moola), I don't know what reason he could have to do so. A super flimsy stretch I could make is Tonio Trussardi/Antonio Volpe since he is adjacent to Passione's Massimo from PHF, but obviously PHF is not very canon and you'd still have a lot of stuff to fill out to justify Diavolo's connection to Morioh, all to potentially encounter Kira. In other words, pre-canon Kiraboss may be more random than post-canon Kiraboss, at least story-wise and not just for their given (huge) list of similarities. Buuuut at least it is possible. It's a whole other thing on whether or not they'd get along. Since they have to be alive for their story to happen, they'd have to not kill each other in the pre-canon meeting instance. This is where an old fanfiction idea I had a long while back comes in...

Uhhh, I guess briefly(?) going over that (since I reckon it's as close to what my 'main idea' for what feasible kiraboss looks like), the fic was going to be called "Yoshikage Kira and Diavolo's Bizarre Backstory" and combine both of the above ideas in this post: pre-canon and post-canon Kiraboss (with focus on pre-canon). The idea for the fic would be that they both meet, develop feelings (super slow burn style), and heavily influence each other to act the way they do in canon (so that there would be a convenient difference in their behaviors between when they initially met each other vs. when they'd meet another stand user in the future separately). Basic plot was: They meet in Morioh (Kira likes Doppio/Diavolo's hands) -> Stand battle (whole thing with Diavolo initially struggling with Kira's stupid SHA, but he learns quickly) -> They form hesitant truce (Diavolo thinks Kira could be very useful, and Kira surrenders) -> They are very stubborn (Kira doesn't want to join mob, and uhh somehow Diavolo's convinced he needs him LUL) -> Insert very ambiguous kind of tsundere/tsundere relationship here, perhaps they have sex (they wouldn't be very good at it) -> Diavolo goes back to Italy and Kira never snitches -> Ensue canon and they die -> They meet again not remembering each other at all and post-canon kiraboss begins. I know I have the ability to sit down and write a proper fanfic ....but I don't feel like it as of now, just as I am with projects. :d Hell, I started that Kosaku-Doppio swap fanfiction (idea I put some time ago on this blog), and plots completely written out, but only at barely two chaps, 4.7k words. Oh yeah, I believe that old animatic I just posted on this blog too was meant to reference the fanfic concept where Kira's just yearning after Diavolo's left.

Sooo yeaah, hehe

[revolutionary-thoy]

Just found your Reverse AU and I’m already obsessed with it, and I wanted to throw in your general direction a headcannon that I’ve had for the reverse universe, particularly for how appropriately MLB-esque it is, that Betterfly is a better father figure to Claw Noir than R!Gabriel is to R!Adrien.

I also wanted to ask, what’s the endgame for Chloe in your AU? Will she have a possible redemption (or at least, a peaceful surrender after realizing that the Supreme could never give her what she wants), or is she going the “irredeemable 15 year old monster” route? While I always prefer for Chloe to have a chance at being a better person, seeing how her life has been up to this point in the reverse world, I wouldn’t be surprised if she wound up in the latter scenario.

I've already established that this Chloe's bullying was much worse than Canon Chloe's, but I am indeed going for a sort of redemption for her. She would not be redeemed in the sense that she joins the heroes and all her actions are forgiven, more in the sense that she gets a chance for a fresh start. Marinette and Kim would DEFINITELY not be friends with her, but she'd work to fix her broken relationship with Zoe and pursue a new friendship with Sabrina. As for how exactly her arc would go, she would get to a point where she realizes that all the power her parents and the Supreme made her think she wanted and needed isn't what makes her happy, and she'd realize just how expendable she is in the eyes of the Supreme. This would pretty much shatter her worldview and make her completely unravel. Inspired by Zoe, she will leave the Supreme and her family and try to figure out what SHE wants to do with her life

Also, blaah sorry for the lack of new Re-Verse art.. again. I've been very busy. Don't worry, the AU is definitely not abandoned or anything, I'm still thinking about them 24/7

[beifong-brainrot]

Hello again! It's been a while since I asked a question, so I have two (Only with villains Mako and Bolin, and also Bolin but in the style of season 4)

Villain Bolin in season 4 How would the rest of the season have developed? And at the end of the series, Bolin could have used only lava to flood half the city. Although he would have taken an army to capture the city and Prince Wu. Mako would have tried his best to reason with his brother, but in the end he sees that because he perceived Bolin as a "child" his brother became like that because of HIM. Mako will feel guilty even after death lol…

2. What if: Mako and Bolin were villains/antagonists?

The season would have been called "Roots of the Past" or "Bonded" I don't know how they worked as antagonists. Bolin, as the younger brother and dependent on Mako, plays like a "reluctant villain" and his arc will be about him becoming independent and seeing that not all people are evil or something like that. And Mako will hold a grudge against the entire Republic city because the city didn't help them. And they could become the first antagonists with a redemption arc in the Korra series.

It's always so interesting to think of what kind of villain Bolin would be, since while he definitely has a lot of reason to 'go evil' he is very kind and sweet. Perhaps that's why I enjoy the heelspin these musings allow. Though I tend to struggle to see Bolin as a potential 'evil leader' or standalone villain, because let's be honest, our boy has henchman vibes.

1.

as we've discussed previously, Bolin being a vilain in B4 would be terribly interesting. Though my favourite idea doesn't have Bolin as a villain perse, and simply to extend his loyalty to Kuvira further. This isn't a difficult idea to implement, since Bolin is easily manipulated and Kuvira is good at emotional manipulation.

So I can see him pushing away his morals because Kuvira concinced him that the awful things they do are "necessary". With a lavabender on their side, the Earth Empire would've been even dangerous. And it would be interesting to see Bolin's charisma ans fame be utilised for propaganda and morale boost. Like captain America but for the Nazis/Soviets lol.

But yeah, it would be incredibly tough on Mako. But not out of left field. Mako does often treat Bolin like a child, and I can very much see how part of Bolin's insistence on staying by Kuvira's side was due to him essentially going through the "stunted development and raised by sibling" version of teenage rebellion.

Especially if this argument stayed as their last interaction before the brothers spilt and Bolin officially turns his back on the Krew in order to throw his lot in with Kuvira.

It would also be fascinating to see Korra and Asami's reactions to this, particularly Korra's, who I think would also feel a bit guilty.

Bolin's relationship with thw Beifongs and Wei would be so interesting due to this shift. I think Bolin would still be reluctant to let them come to any harm, but that might make him even more dangerous in an attempt to help Kuvira intimidate them into surrenderring.

Which would obviously take a huge toll on mental health. And that would probably make him even more unstable and desperate to both succeed in the Earth Empire's goal, but still keep those he love safe. I can very much see him trying to fulfill two opposite objectives at the same time, and probably ending up causing himself a lot of harm in the process.

2.

When I imagine the bending bros as antagonists, I usually imagine them in two ways. Either seeing them as having remained in the triads and eventually having gained a lot of power over Republic City's criminal underworld. Or, and this takes a bit of finicking, having them working with the Equalists in a weird "benders hating benders" thing.

I think the triad AU is pretty self explanatory. The bros remained with the triads and continued to grow in power until one of them, provably Mako was elected leader, or until they took power by force. From then, there's a lot of interesting ways this can go. Either the brothers have assimilated into the triad life well and simply treat crime as a survival strategy, having been conditioned to be used to it from a young age.

Or they take it on as a sort of "take it down from the inside" situation. Have them trying to take apart rival triads before they somehow drive the Triple Threats into the ground.

Now, having the bros working with the Equalists would be rather interesting. Since they are benders themselves. However, they were also orphaned by a bender and grew up on the streets where the primary perpetrators of violence were benders.

I can see them sympathising with the equalist ideals and wanting to help. Or perhaps they are under the impression that Amon doesn't want to whipe out all benders but just those who use thir bending for evil.

And since Amon probably arrived in RC a few years before the events of B1, he could've met young Mako and Bolin, seen a bit of himself and Tarrlok in them and taken them under his wing. Trained them and indoctrinated them into his beliefs. Also Amon and the Lieutenant can be their adoptive dads yay.

This could also serve us to see more of how Amon himself dealt with being a bender and also show us a very interesting rare perspective on bending

[turtle-ly]

Summary:

“You have led your brethren astray in your ambition to wreak havoc in Heaven, but they are not too far gone for redemption. The four seals used in your binding will be sustained by qi and guarded by the lives of your former accomplices, the Demon Bull King, the Yellowtusk Elephant, the Golden Winged Peng, and the Azure Lion, all of whom have stepped up and surrendered after your capture, no longer forced to follow your hubris.” - The Brotherhood fails, Sun Wukong is captured, but instead of an enlightened monk taking him on a pilgrimage after 500 years spent under the Five Phases Mountain, a great betrayal ensures his fate is condemned to eternal confinement. Heavy with rage and grief, the Monkey King calls upon his warrior in the hope that one day he will be freed.

The first chapter of my cotl-ish shadowpeach AU is here! Update will be slow and irregular but hey, that's just how i roll. This one was proofread by the totally cool @loftwingsuarus :3 muah

Let me know what y'all think!

[zerothejackal]

So. What is "Broken Illusions"?

Broken Illusions (or BIAU), is my small little Sonic the hedgehog AU where I fix Sonic Forces by... making it never happen at all! it happens 3 months after Sonic is defeated in the beginning of the game. On which, after facing with certain people of his past, Infinite has to confront the fact that he's been used by Eggman as nothing but a tool.

The mercenary surrenders himself to the resistance and lets fate take him to what he thinks will be his final destination; however. His journey is only just beginning. This is not only a Infinite redemption story, but also the story will from time-to-time focus back on the blue blur, and perhaps others, like Metal.

Sonic, meanwhile, is still trapped in the prisons of the Death Egg, at the mercy of the evil Dr. Eggman, Sonic remains captive and unable to run or escape, his mind shattering and succumbing to the darkness of his prison, hoping for any sort of release, even if it means to fight for his life every day. Eggman however, has bigger plans for his old foe Sonic. :)

...and you can read the first chapter, and probably the second soon... here

[babyblue711]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag, my darling @itbmojojoejo 💙

1. How many works do you have on ao3(or masterlist)? - I've only ever uploaded to Tumblr. I have 4 stories total (but all have multiple parts).

2. What’s your total ao3/tumblr word count? - I literally never counted until now - 66,700 (plus an additional 3500 in the works)

3. What fandoms do you write for? - Mostly just Ewanverse (Salad Days, High Life, and TLK) but I have recently dabbled in HOTD (Modern AU Aegon & Aemond)

4. Top five fics by kudos - I'll just do top 3 with the most notes since I don't have many fics: Temptation Part 1 (Ettore/High Life - DD;DNE), Surrender Part 1 (Aegon Modern AU), Redemption Part 1 (Will- Salad Days)

5. Do you respond to comments? - YES! It is the BEST part of writing!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - I'm a sucker for happy endings. Temptation was definitely angsty but the ending of Part 2 of Surrender could also be considered a different sort of angsty (wiggles eyebrows).

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Definitely Redemption (Will - Salad Days) but I'd say Devotion (Osferth - TLK) is a close second.

8. Do you get hate on fics? - No, I think I would crumple and cry if I ever did!

9. Do you write smut? - My fics are porn with little plot 😈

10. Craziest crossover? - Haven't considered but now you got me thinking!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? - I sure hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? - Not to my knowledge

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? - No, I think that would be difficult to blend creative ideas but kudos to those that do it!

14. All time favorite ship? - Call me crazy but I happened upon the most beautifully written fic on ao3 with the most unusual pairing but I instantly fell in love - Aemond x Aethelstan (TLK): A Red Dawn Rises by Avonne. Give it a read!

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? - I literally fell hard for Aethelstan when writing Devotion and I tried my hand at writing for him. I do not think I will finish his story but I dearly love the character.

16. What are your writing strengths? - The smut! It comes most naturally despite never writing smut (or anything actually) until I published my first fic last summer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? - Comprehensively telling a story without needing a ton of words to do so. I am working on keeping my fics shorter while still conveying a complete story without going overboard!

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? - I like it but I also need to know what they are saying so I can follow along.

19. First fandom you wrote in? - Ewanverse - Will from Salad Days

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? - Devotion is my personal favorite, there's just something calming and sweet about Osferth and his story flowed from my brain effortlessly.

No pressure tags for funsies/to help you procrastinate (sorry if you've already been tagged): @myfandomprompts @arcielee @sylasthegrim @thekinslayed @theoneeyedprince @inthedayswhenlandswerefew

[745voiceofthepeople]

Been thinking and writing (drafts) about the Kryptonian Azula Au/endgame Azutara that @waterfire1848 and I were briefly discussing.

I feel that the following (incorrect) quote perfectly encapsulates the planned story idea that I have. Before Azula’s (planned) redemption arc in the story anyway. Let me know if anyone has any opinions!

Admittedly, I got this idea from watching Smallville while scrolling through the ATLA/Azula/Azutara corner of tumblr.

Scene: Aang and Katara were fighting Azula and Zuko in the crystal catacombs beneath the Earth Kingdom palace.

Aang tried to persuade Azula to surrender. Wanting to resolve Azula’s usurpation of the Earth Kingdom as peacefully as he could attempt to. While Katara was torn between wanting to drown Azula in a tidal wave, and wanting to wipe that insufferable smirk off her face. Though Katara would deny to her dying breath that her preferred method would be to kiss it off.

Aang: The fight is over Azula, even now King Keui is being freed from imprisonment. Your coup is at an end.

Azula: What a fool you are… I’m a god! How can you kill a god? What a grand and intoxicating innocence. How could you be so naive? There is no escape, no recall or intervention can work in this place. Come, lay down your weapons. It is not too late for my mercy.

[trashcankitty12]

A Snippet From My Upcoming Fic

I'm real excited about this one, even though it's not finished yet and probably won't be for a bit. (All of the chapters so far have been longer than I normally write... And I'm planning for 22 of them. So... Yeah...)

But I'm excited. And I wanted to share a snippet of Chapter One!

This story is from my Grace Au, which is a continuation from my fic "I Didn't Have It In Myself To Go With Grace", which is a story in which I essentially had Griffin murdered by Valtor. On accident. Sort of.

This fic takes place roughly 25-ish years after the initial story and Valtor is being 'recruited' to work for the New Company of Light against his Mothers.

Fun, right?

Anyway, snippet under the cut!

Remembering his manners, he gave a careful bow, thrilled his limbs were starting to get used to cooperating with him again. “I’m glad for the chance to meet the one who got me out of Omega. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Take a seat, we have much to discuss.” Her tone had a slight drawl to it, (Rancorian?), and her tone was one that suggested she was a ‘no-nonsense’ person. 

Fantastic.

Valtor gave a nod, taking a seat in one of the chairs, observing as she did the same. “I’m going to cut to the chase, I know you, Mr. Bellan. I’ve read your files, studied the archived footage of battles you participated in and the security footage from the places you robbed from.”

Great start.

“I personally think defrosting you and bringing you here was a piss poor idea.” She took what seemed to be an exasperated sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. (And just where had he seen that quirk before?)

“Unfortunately, we’re currently in an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ situation and several of my colleagues are big believers in ‘redemption’ and ‘second chances’.” She used air quotes around the last bit.

“I take it you’re more cynical?” Valtor pointed out the obvious, giving a slight smirk. So she had turned out like her mother. “You don’t believe in second chances or redemption?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead. The way her eyes bore into his, the way her whole body seemed to tense. But she gave a smile, though it seemed more of a grimace. “Actually, I do believe in them. However such concepts only work if the subject is willing to attempt to do better. To be better. And you, Mr. Bellan, I don’t believe you can do it.”

“Tell me, do you still feel justified in what you did during The First War of Magic? The stealing, the murders, the sacrifices made to the Ancestral Coven? Do you have regret for destroying entire planets? Can you even feel remorse?”

Valtor crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. How dare- “We were in a war, things weren’t so cut and dry.”

“Even war has rules of engagement. The Ancestral Coven, you, disregarded all of them.”

“And I confessed my sins during my sentencing.”

“But did you feel regret for them?” Valtor huffed. “Exactly.” She shook her head, glancing down at a file in her hand.

His. “Honestly if the situation weren’t dire, I wouldn’t even be entertaining this idea.” She turned her gaze back to him. “But here we are.”

“Here we are.” He paused, something she said echoing in his mind. “Did… You say the First War of Magic? As in… There’s been others?” 

“We’re currently in what the press has dubbed The Second War of Magic.” She answered, glancing back to his file. “Which is why I was outvoted in bringing you here; my colleagues think that with your knowledge, you’d be a great asset to us, and of course, you’d be proving you can do good and be a productive member of society.”

Valtor frowned, his hands tapping along the table edge. “And why would I be of use? What happened after I surrendered?” What did he miss?

She paused, tapping on her files. “Long story short: the Company won The First War of Magic and there was a period of peace and restoration of what had been lost. However the Ancestral Witches apparently had a back-up plan in place and we are now, metaphorically speaking, in the eye of the storm.”

“And because I’m Their son, you think I can help figure out Their next moves and how to stop Them?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, can you? I mean, you said it yourself, you surrendered. You abandoned Them before the final battles, cast Them aside for a pedestal in a frozen wasteland. They may have changed everything about how They operate. But we are willing to take that chance on you.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean your colleagues?”

“Precisely.” She clasped her hands on the table, looking him in the eyes, “so, are you interested? Or am I right in thinking this was a waste of time?” Dragons, she looked like Griffin. His eyes and eye shape, but damn… Dammit.

“If I decide not to help, I go back to Omega, right?”

“If you refuse to help us, I’ll kill you where you sit.” She admitted. 

Valtor clenched his fists, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“If you don’t help us, which would mean being monitored and kept on a tight leash so you can’t go gallivanting off to wreak havoc on your own, you’ll be executed. Nothing personal-”

“Feels pretty damn personal!” He all but growled out. She glowered at him, raising one of her hands. 

The room’s temperature went up several degrees, sweat immediately breaking out over him as she narrowed her eyes. A warning.

He put his hands up in surrender as she lowered hers, the temperature going back to normal. “As I was saying; it’s not personal, but if we leave you in Omega, other Coven members may come to break you out. We can’t risk you rejoining your Mothers as Their favorite errand boy. There’s far too much on the line.”

“So what’s it going to be?”

[yuri-luka]

What would you think if Chloe and Audrey heard rumours about the way they were going to be portrayed in Astruc’s new movie, so they went back to Paris in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the movie from being completed? Then an evilized villain (maybe a wishmaker-like villain or maybe even a villain that's unrelated to the butterfly miraculous) caused Chloe and Zoe to switch bodies somehow, and nobody fully understands what's going on, so Zoe (in Chloe's body) is taken by Audrey back to London, despite Zoe desperately trying to explain things.

But Chloe enters a fugue state (heavily due to trauma caused by the neglect of her parents) and genuinely thinks she's Zoe, and is even able to recall many of the things Zoe did due to being in Zoe's body. The class thinks “Zoe's” change in behavior is due to the psychological effects of method acting, since “Zoe” is playing Chloe in Astruc's new movie, but they gradually convince “Zoe” to let them help her relearn how to be “herself” again.

Zoe is not able to gain access to Chloe's memories while in Chloe's body, because unlike Chloe, Zoe knows she's in the wrong body. In London, Zoe is trying to get back to Paris, but when she gets there, “Zoe” thinks she’s there to try to hurt Marinette. Eventually, after listening to “Chloe”, Marinette starts to suspect that “Chloe” might be telling the truth, so she decides that she must test “Chloe” and “Zoe”. She fakes being in danger to see how they react. “Zoe” reacts slightly faster than “Chloe”, so Marinette comes to the conclusion that “Chloe” is lying and that “Chloe” has an evil and manipulative plan. Marinette thinks that “Chloe” must have picked up a few tricks from Lila, because she thinks no version of Chloe could possibly react faster than Zoe when it comes to protecting her. So Audrey takes “Zoe” back to London again to “correct” her after “Zoe” fails to convince anyone of the truth.

10 years later, “Zoe” gets seriously injured after fighting a villain when Ladybug isn’t around, which causes “Zoe” to not have long to live. Then Ladybug accidentally stumbles upon the truth about “Zoe” while trying to help “Zoe” using magical powers. Ladybug decides that the moral thing to do is to switch Chloe and Zoe back to their original bodies. Once Zoe gets her body back, she blames Chloe for her impending death and for leaving her with 10 years of loneliness, while Chloe got off scot-free.

At first, when Chloe gets her body back, she still thinks she's Zoe, but she eventually figures out the truth by reading the journals "Chloe" kept over the 10 years of time. When Lila gets defeated, Zoe steals the Butterfly Miraculous to get her hands on Ladybug and Catnoir’s miraculouses, hoping to “make things right”. Zoe gets defeated by the heroes (including Chloe, who has gotten her memories back) and Ladybug manages to cure Zoe’s injuries by injecting her with the cure.

At first Zoe seems like she's about to surrender due to being grateful for Ladybug's help, but it turns out to be a ruse. Zoe thinks she's gone too far and that it's too late to turn back. Zoe snatches the ladybug miraculous and gets away from Marinette. Zoe hesitates to make the wish when she realizes that she'd need to sacrifice the lives of friends like Marinette and Alya to make the wish a reality, and that they wouldn't return in the new world she wants to make. Just as Zoe is about to make the wish, Chloe arrives and attempts to reason with her. Chloe manages to talk Zoe out of making the wish and even gets the cat miraculous and the ladybug miraculous back. The other heroes arrive to find that Zoe has gotten away with the butterfly miraculous. Chloe is fully accepted into the hero group after this.

HELLO???? JUST DROPPING THIS IN MY INBOX IS SO CRAZY I LOVE YOU

oh my god you legend wait i love this concept please psychologically torture chloe to redemption /j

POOR ZOE GOING THROUGH ALL THIS this is such an insane dynamic i need to inspect your brain please make this an au i need to see this happen in real time

[sunsetosirias]

What would you think if Chloe and Audrey heard rumours about the way they were going to be portrayed in Astruc’s new movie, so they went back to Paris in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the movie from being completed? Then an evilized villain (maybe a wishmaker-like villain or maybe even a villain that's unrelated to the butterfly miraculous) caused Chloe and Zoe to switch bodies somehow, and nobody fully understands what's going on, so Zoe (in Chloe's body) is taken by Audrey back to London, despite Zoe desperately trying to explain things.

But Chloe enters a fugue state (heavily due to trauma caused by the neglect of her parents) and genuinely thinks she's Zoe, and is even able to recall many of the things Zoe did due to being in Zoe's body. The class thinks “Zoe's” change in behavior is due to the psychological effects of method acting, since “Zoe” is playing Chloe in Astruc's new movie, but they gradually convince “Zoe” to let them help her relearn how to be “herself” again.

Zoe is not able to gain access to Chloe's memories while in Chloe's body, because unlike Chloe, Zoe knows she's in the wrong body. In London, Zoe is trying to get back to Paris, but when she gets there, “Zoe” thinks she’s there to try to hurt Marinette. Eventually, after listening to “Chloe”, Marinette starts to suspect that “Chloe” might be telling the truth, so she decides that she must test “Chloe” and “Zoe”. She fakes being in danger to see how they react. “Zoe” reacts slightly faster than “Chloe”, so Marinette comes to the conclusion that “Chloe” is lying and that “Chloe” has an evil and manipulative plan. Marinette thinks that “Chloe” must have picked up a few tricks from Lila, because she thinks no version of Chloe could possibly react faster than Zoe when it comes to protecting her. So Audrey takes “Zoe” back to London again to “correct” her after “Zoe” fails to convince anyone of the truth.

10 years later, “Zoe” gets seriously injured after fighting a villain when Ladybug isn’t around, which causes “Zoe” to not have long to live. Then Ladybug accidentally stumbles upon the truth about “Zoe” while trying to help “Zoe” using magical powers. Ladybug decides that the moral thing to do is to switch Chloe and Zoe back to their original bodies. Once Zoe gets her body back, she blames Chloe for her impending death and for leaving her with 10 years of loneliness, while Chloe got off scot-free.

At first, when Chloe gets her body back, she still thinks she's Zoe, but she eventually figures out the truth by reading the journals "Chloe" kept over the 10 years of time. When Lila gets defeated, Zoe steals the Butterfly Miraculous to get her hands on Ladybug and Catnoir’s miraculouses, hoping to “make things right”. Zoe gets defeated by the heroes (including Chloe, who has gotten her memories back) and Ladybug manages to cure Zoe’s injuries by injecting her with the cure.

At first Zoe seems like she's about to surrender due to being grateful for Ladybug's help, but it turns out to be a ruse. Zoe thinks she's gone too far and that it's too late to turn back. Zoe snatches the ladybug miraculous and gets away from Marinette. Zoe hesitates to make the wish when she realizes that she'd need to sacrifice the lives of friends like Marinette and Alya to make the wish a reality, and that they wouldn't return in the new world she wants to make. Just as Zoe is about to make the wish, Chloe arrives and attempts to reason with her. Chloe manages to talk Zoe out of making the wish and even gets the cat miraculous and the ladybug miraculous back. The other heroes arrive to find that Zoe has gotten away with the butterfly miraculous. Chloe is fully accepted into the hero group after this.

This is such a fascinating concept for a Body Swap AU which explores a redemption arc for Chloe and a corruption arc for Zoe which still makes her sympathetic after what she's been through.

Also, I love the idea of Chloe (in Zoe's body) bonding with the class and genuinely becoming a better person; the understandable mistake Marinette makes when she believes no version of Chloe could be fast enough to protect her which reflects their past interactions hits in the feels.

Zoe backing out of the wish after realising it would hurt her friends but still leaving with the butterfly miraculous leaves it open ended as to whether she'll get a complete redemption arc or succumb to full blown villainy.

This was a fun read and I'm thankful you shared this with me.

[archduchessgortash]

1. I'm writing 2 fics. The first I'm putting up is default Durge and Gortash, and the answer is this: right after they crown the brain, Gortash gives Durge Stillmaker, which he didn't just commission. He forged it himself. Durge decides to finally show Gortash he's attracted to him. The second one is my halfling bard Durge, and she is a redemption arc AU for both of them. For the second fic, she almost freezes to death in Mephistar. After they are safe, a very angry Gortash calls her an idiot and tells her he's been in love with her for years.

2. Default Durge fic: No. Redemption fic: Yes. Neither knew who the other was. It's a whole fated romance thing involving gods other than the Dead Three in the mix.

3. Default Durge fic: He thought Gortash was brilliant but figured he was weak because he saw Banites that way. Redemption fic: she punched him in the leg, and he had to limp after her and start treating her like a real person and acting like one himself before she would spend another second in his presence.

4. Default Durge fic: It happened, in that Durge abducted a Banite and questioned her using Detect Thoughts, a Potion of Mind Reading, and the threat of torture to get the truth out of her. Redemption fic: Yes, but it was composed of conversations spread out over 5 years of friendship and some interactions with other faction members; in short, it was mostly civilized. Although Durge did bring Gortash along for a murder on the night they met. Coincidentally, her target was a Banite; and it wasn't Gortash.

5. Default Durge fic: planning phase, Gortash going over his plan and Durge punching holes in it so they could add contingencies to make sure it goes right. Gortash especially liked how excited Durge got talking about the battles they would fight. Redemption fic: recon phase, hiding in broom closets, Durge relaying info while Gortash sketched maps and took notes. Durge always managed to get Gortash to write something silly on the maps, like 'Enver's stepped in devil piss' on the House of Hope map.

6. Default Durge fic: these two bicker and have offensive pet names for each other, but each would do anything for the other, upto and including deicide. Redemption fic: they each see the other as a sort of savior and their only true path to happiness.

7. In both fics, it's one in which Durge is watching Gortash's back while he's Lady Jannath's arm candy, but it happens multiple times with a variety of results. I don't use that 'Durge is a murder-hobo headcanon,' so no deaths were promised.

8. Default Durge fic: not sadists, but they are effective torturers. Durge tortures his victims if the Urge needs it. Gortash tortures for information or to cause pain and fear in enemies of Bane before they die, and he doesn't like doing it for information because it means he has to resort to not using his mind. For enemies of Bane, it is a duty, that's it. Durge and Gortash don't compete about this. Redemption fic: also not sadists, but very effective at torture when the need arises. Durge tortures her targets if she thinks they deserve it before she kills them. Gortash rarely tortures, except enemies of Bane as a duty. Durge is better at torture, but it's not a competition between them.

9. Default Durge fic: Yes, they visited it pre-game during planning phases. During Act 3, no (except in one alternate ending that I haven't written yet). Redemption fic: Yes, many times in pre-game, for set-up. During Act 3, yes, because I make him a follower post-coronation. Any Banites who refused to surrender died, which was to say, none... yet. They die later.

10. Default Durge fic: Gortash makes a really stupid move, which is why Durge abducts a Banite, but it'll be in part 2 of my fic. He gets a dagger in his gut and almost loses Durge forever. I didn't write Gortash doing things for Durge 'for cooperation only.' I write Durge as having seen him do that with others and then telling him he never wants him to do that with him. Redemption fic: Gortash embarks on a journey of self-improvement to impress Durge. It has many pitfalls, and he suffers a lot, but ultimately, it doesn't end badly for him. For the sake of cooperation, Gortash has to be nice to people who don't have any power whatsoever. At first, he's only doing it for Durge, but the relationships he created that way are part of what helps him keep from going off the deep end after Orin attacks Durge.

Fuck it imma force those who remain to interact with each other again.

Past Life asks, except it's Durgetash

Who realised first that this strictly business relationship stopped being so strict and solely about business?

Did they ever meet or see each other before Gortash attempted to find the Chosen of Bhaal?

What did Durge think of the little wannabe Tyrant at the beginning? Someone competent or someone who tries really quite hard?

Did the Banite and Bhaalist culture exchange really happen and what did it look like?

Their favourite 'strictly business associates' bonding activity on a Saturday night? Please don't leave out any of the bloody gory details.

Describe their dynamic in one sentence. Without using toxic.

Somehow we all hc that Durge and Gortash attended some kind of Patriar function together. What was the thing they showed up to really and how did it go? How many deaths did he have to promise Durge for them to agree?

Both Gortash and Durge are sadistic little gremlins, so when it comes down to it, who's better at torture? And did they make a competition out of it?

The Steelwatch Foundry. Did they ever visit it together, what was it like? How many people died afterwards and how many of them were banites?

Did the tyrant ever try to impress the serial killing godling and exact how horrible did it end for him? What sorta things did he do solely for 'the sake of cooperation' with glaringly obvious ulterior motives?

Ask prev when u reblog, be nice, this isn't strictly romantic, bla bla bla yk what I usually put here. Basically, have fun, go wild, save a fading fandom or smth