#whenever I think I’m out of my mob mindset I’m not

[daisyachain]

I like an interpretation both where Mob is fond of Teru and a little cheesed that he is. A) fits with the 100% arc B) it’s fun. Mob does consider Teru a friend. More than that, he thinks of him as admirable. Impressive. Teru’s the smart, popular guy who can talk to people and get girls, he’s saved Mob’s beloved little bro a couple of times and he’s a reliable substitute if he needs time away from S&S. They’re not the besties of besties, but in day to day life Mob really looks up to him and does care about him.

In the depths of Mob’s subconscious though, he remembers what it was that Teru did to him. 100% doesn’t just go berserk, he intentionally hurts Teru in a way that parallels what he did to Mob. So Mob hates him then—does he? His truest self lashes out where it could never hurt Ritsu…except 100% isn’t his truest self. That’s what the anime cut that I hate the most, which is Mob and 100% negotiating. 100% is instinct and base emotion, Mob is the conscious regulation, and Mob really does care about Teru as a friend. Hurting him drives him to consciousness and then to tears. Teru awakens the kind, careful Mob even as a part of Mob just wants a rematch.

Neither part of Shigeo can be removed. The 100% can’t be denied and the Mob can’t be buried. I think his relationship with Teruki should express that duality and the way I like to see it played out is Mob being hopeful and happy that the cool guy on the block offers him unconditional support. He gets used to hanging out with Teru. He gets used to always having him somewhere in the back of his mind as the person who can be him when he can’t be him (cf previous post about Teru being the substitute when Mob is out for an arc). He just sometimes wishes that the person who is always so kind, lovely, witty, who makes him feel so comfortable—he wishes it was anybody else. But it’s not! The guy who did the worst things in the world to him is someone he can’t help but like, and that’s what’s interesting to me

[prpfz]

🍓🥝 eighteen plus roleplay. twenty three & any prns. looking for fandomless, ocxoc, varied pairings. most plots are kidnapping/stockholm, stalking or 🕊️🪦 so if that’s not your thing, keep scrolling. long as fuck so bare with me.

semi-lit to literate (200-400 words // 1-2k characters) 3rd person pov. replies once a week, NOT once a month. chatting ooc is encouraged. discord only, i ask that you please let me take care of the server. i do not use tupperbot! smut:plot is 30:70. animated/manga faceclaims only. NO real person, picrew, sims (video game fc’s) or hand drawn faceclaims.

★ . . . a. (29) male. dom, top. older soft mafia guy. works as an arms dealer & tries to stay away from the dirtier parts of the mob. father is retired yakuza with heavy ties and many connections. he is loyal, being raised in a mob setting, loyalty is life or death; and also intuitive. his gut feelings usually tell something is wrong or about to happen. he is also possessive, growing up in a household where things weren’t given evenly; and controlling, almost a perfectionist, wanting to be in control of every moment, action and setting. in control of his own life ★ want to use him in a mafia, kidnapping & sort of stockholm plot, where your muse (ftm, switch or sub, bottom & pre op pls) who has a rough life (please no prostitution, stripping or sexual abuse background stories) maybe parents owe money to another mob or maybe they do, so my guy kidnaps them to save their life; and to y/c getting kidnapped is better than their current situation. i need someone who is calm and level headed, but also still suspicious and has a hard time trusting. someone who won’t cry because they miss home, nor someone who throws attitude because they were kidnapped. someone neutral to the ordeal. my guy doesn’t really know about trans people, so this romance will be a slow, learning experience. i have many side characters for this story and it may sound cheap but im serious about the whole background and world building. i’m very specific and picky with this one.

★ . . . a. (24) male. switch+dom, top. charming and cunning ex con. pyromaniac, got arrested for burning down a liquor store (it was closed, nobody was there) did time in prison for it and had to start his life over when he got out. he is optimistic, having the “glass half full” mindset, always rolling with the punches and making the best of whatever cards life has dealt; and independent. he’s never had anyone to rely on, nor anyone he could really trust, so he looks out for himself, and takes care of himself, always, making him a bit selfish and self centered as well ★ want to use him in a neighbors, stalking to lovers plot (weird ik) where your muse (m or f, switch, bottom) is a broke college student who rented a cheap apartment a few months ago, where the windows are like five feet apart and you can see in. my guy gets out of prison and rents an apartment there which happens to be across from y/c’s. he begins to watch through the window, whenever he can, entranced by your muse. looking for someone social, outgoing, relaxed, definitely not sleazy or a party animal. someone who is smart and in college ofc. someone who is sort of excited about having a stalker when notes start popping up and things go missing.

★ . . . c. (24) ftm, pre op. sub, bottom. trans fashion designer who has made a name for himself among celebrities and the queer community, having unique commissioned pieces. he is confident, and rather social. he likes to dress up and go out with friends. he’s disciplined, coming from a home where respect was extremely important. he is ambitious and determined, enjoying his work while also being a workaholic. he has a fear of failure and is a bit of a pessimist, thinking negatively of most situations but rarely speaks on it ★ want to use him in a kidnapping/stockholm plot as well. basic plot honestly, your muse (m, dom top) is rich and obsessed with my muse, wanting them all for himself. looking for someone coercive, someone charismatic, who will shower my muse with gifts and such to make him feel less like a hostage, eventually my muse grows used to it.

★ . . . l. (19) fem. sub, bottom. young, aspiring nurse. still in college, works overtime as much as possible at her families convenience store to pay for her schooling. she is trustworthy and very responsible, having three younger brothers. she’s good at keeping secrets and comes through on her promises. she’s determined, once she has her goal set she will do anything to get it done. she can be envious of others success, appearance or even materialistic items. she’s also insensitive, saying and doing things that only pertain to her and how she feels, disregarding others. she is a sub, bottom ★ want to use her in either A) a kidnapping/stockholm plot where she is in love with your muse (m, dom top) who she assumes doesn’t know her. so she stalks your muse and breaks into his home. while she’s there your muse gets home to find her, knocks her out and basically kidnaps her, keeping her in his basement. looking for someone soft but still psycho, not violent but willing to keep her at all costs. someone who seems like they have a fairly normal life. // B) the neighbor stalker to lovers sort of plot from above ^^ where my muse is the broke college student and yours is the ex con. looking for someone cunning, sly, charismatic.

★ . . . g. (29) fem. switch+sub, vers+bottom older soft and motherly teacher (sometimes married sometimes not depending on the plot) works with middle and high school. she is patient and understanding, working with children one has to keep a calm demeanor and a level head. she is dependable, someone one can trust to be there for them, and she hates being late; so she’s always early. she is stubborn and hard headed, taking little to no outside advice, although is very dependent; not having been alone since she was a teen, always keeping a boyfriend, lover or a warm body in her bed for comfort. she is a switch++sub, soft dom, versatile with a bottom preference ★ i want to use her in some boy next door or teachers pet type plots with your (m, switch heavy dom++ vers heavy top++ very specific i know) also really looking for older 🍪 on this one. if you don’t know what that is, this isn’t the plot for you. looking for a muse that isn’t mouthy or bratty, but also not whiny and overly subby. really an obedient sub top. curious and eager to please, maybe really attached and sprightly possessive.

if interested in any of these muses (even if you’re not interested in the plot) feel free to reach out or leave a like.

like or dm

[bettsfic]

Hi betts, how do you separate yourself from your fanfiction works? As in having the mindset that ‘you are not your work’? I feel like I’ve fallen into the myth that positive feedback equates to readers liking me for me, when in most cases I imagine they’re solely interested in my content. I guess I’m expecting too much from fandom members? I just don’t feel like I belong to the fandom if it weren’t for my fanfiction. Thanks for your time.

this is a really great and really big question that for me anyway had far deeper roots in my mental health than i initially recognized. 

even before i found fandom, i strongly conflated love with being of use to someone, and then i would get upset that people used me. all of my relationships were either distant or volatile. i knew that i was the only thing all my relationships had in common, but i couldn’t figure out what i was doing wrong. 

what i was doing wrong was that i didn’t know how to love or be loved. i only knew how to need and be needed. i was defined wholly by my relationships with others; without them, i was no one. i changed everything about myself to fit with the people i was surrounded by. i had no ability whatsoever to see or assess myself. my worth was measured in others’ perception of me. if they hated me, i hated me. if they loved me...actually, i still hated me, because i believed that love was temporary, and it was only a matter of time they saw the “real” me and they would take their love away. it was much easier to mold myself into someone they could love. 

i once told a guy i was dating, i just want to be who you want me to be. and he looked at me like i was crazy, and asked, then how can i love you? 

when i found writing, i didn’t know what love really felt like. i only knew obsession and codependency. i didn’t know how to feel emotions in order to process them, so everything that had ever happened to me was still just sitting inside me, waiting. writing offered me a tool to begin working through the pile. it offered me a means to observe and validate myself, and feel my feelings. 

but when i was first developing a relationship with writing, i put so much of myself into it that i couldn’t help but use feedback as a measure of self-worth. 

i think to some degree, every artist needs a witness. almost everything we write exists to be made public to some degree, and it’s a totally normal thing to want to seek reception. but conflating other people liking you, and by extension your work, with your worthiness to exist, creates a lot of self-suffering.

i remember realizing that i had boxed myself into a corner, and i knew i had to reassess my perspective of myself and my work. i had found myself in the same position you describe, feeling bad because readers didn’t love me, they loved my writing (see: being of use and wondering why people always used me). especially with fanfic, which has so much to do with quantity, 90% of readers don’t even look at the fic writer’s name, let alone kudos or comment. reading is a self-fulfilling endeavor the same way eating is. all of us need stories to live. as writers, we’re just the chefs. when you eat a good meal, you don’t fall in love with the chef. most of the time you don’t even know their name. the food isn’t the chef and the story isn’t you. 

but also, i was, and always had been, disgusted and baffled by people who *did* love me, especially if i felt i had nothing useful to offer them. once, a friend of mine drove like 3 hours to come visit me for dinner, and then drove 3 hours back. for some reason i assumed he was on a road trip somewhere and just passing through. when he told me he had come just to hang out with me, my brain short-circuited. i couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to hang out with me like, for fun. 

after a few years of posting fic, a weird thing happened where a few people did seem to like *me* because of my writing, insofar as they would follow my blog and interact with me and eventually we became friends. there may even be people out there who like me and don’t interact with me. but that idea also kind of weirded me out for a long time, because i kept thinking, who am i? no one. i’m nothing. i’m boring. go read my writing, that’s what matters. 

and then i realized, i could not have it both ways. either i wanted to be seen, or i wanted to go unseen. i was schrödinger’s validation. 

so i think the very simple answer is “learn to love yourself,” but i was so far behind when it came to love, i didn’t know what loving yourself even meant. so i think a better adage is “learn love.” learn what love is, what it feels like, what it looks like. and then turn that definition on yourself and your work. 

i love myself, even when i mess up, even when i’m not meeting my expectations. i love my work, even when it’s bad. when other people love me and my work, that makes me happy. when they don’t, that’s fine, because i still have plenty of my own love left. 

in practicality, for a few years i basically had to constantly chant to myself “what other people think of me is not my business.” a reader’s relationship with your writing is not your obligation to know or control. it’s only your obligation to create the stories you want to tell, and maybe you share them so you can share the love you put into them, or maybe you don’t. maybe you eat the meal you cook, or maybe you share it with someone else. whether they like it or not has no bearing on who you are. it’s all just personal taste.

more importantly, you can’t generate self-beliefs externally. someone’s opinion of you or your work cannot define you, because no one has a wider view of you than you. you are the expert of yourself. it took me a long time to change all of my self-beliefs, or what i’ve come to call “life sentences,” into statements of temporality and priority. “i’m brave” turned into “i value courage.” “i’m bad at directions” turned into “sometimes i get turned around.” every time i’m about to make a sweeping judgment of myself, i try to recast it into something more malleable, because every state of the self is temporary, and i always want to give myself the opportunity to grow.

i won’t lie and say i have a totally healthy relationship with my writing. i still get jealous sometimes, although it’s much briefer and more bearable than it used to be. i still get deeply annoyed by tactless or rude feedback, but i rarely get upset. i *do* get upset when someone sends me a link to a forum or thread of people making fun of me; i think it’s hard to unlearn that. sometimes i still feel the need to defend or justify or apologize for my work. and i definitely still compulsively refresh my comment inbox whenever i post something i’m proud of. but for the most part, i’m in a much better place than i used to be.

currently i’m working on making peace with the idea of publication, that my original work treads a morally risky line that is easily misunderstood, and i’m publishing into a world of mob mentality and cancel culture. and moreover, once a work is published, once it’s out there, it can never go back in. i’m trying to figure out whether i’m confident enough now in my work to still stand by it in ten years or fifty. i’m also freaked out about how anything i publish will outlive me. as someone who has always lived with existential dread, it’s terrifying to think i may write something that could be read in a hundred years, that my voice might live longer than my body. there is a very slim chance of it, but as i’ve mentioned before, i think it’s better to plan more for success than failure. 

i’m not sure if any of this is helpful, but it’s the path i took to get where i am. i wish you the best of luck navigating your relationship with your work. 

my carrd | writing advice masterdoc

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 08

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of violence

A/N: hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

The weather was chilly as they landed in mid French night. Y/N was the first one out the plane, feeling the wind hit her naked arms due to the short sleeved dress. Sebastian, on the other hand, was the first one out of the airport, excusing himself due to business which Gwen gave little care to. In all honesty, Y/N thought she was particularly fine with the idea of the only person powerful enough to order her around being as far as possible. After all, Paris is the city of love, endless possibilities in Gwen’s mindset.

They were driven to the hotel, the landscape from the nightly Paris making Y/N want to rush out the moving car and just sit down in the grass looking at the night sky. However, Gwen was tired and Y/N knew better not to argue. She would never win in an argument with Gwen, besides, she knew exactly how the heiress acted whenever she got her way. Thinking about it, maybe only once in their whole life had Y/N won an argument with her and that had been when she was 5 and not really understanding of her role in the family. Y/N was a handmaid, the literal definition of handmaid is a female servant so why should she put in danger her own survival? If Gwen really got mad at her and disposed of her or fired her, Y/N wasn’t entirely sure how to begin a new life. Sure, she had a degree, a perfect CV but other than working as a handmaid for the mob, she had never worked before and only know was she getting paid for it. She’d rather be silent about it than put her own stability at risk.

They arrived at the hotel at around 2 AM and were quickly checked into their bedrooms. As per usual, Y/N’s bedroom was always next to Gwen’s and normally on the top floor for safety reasons. Y/N rolled her suitcase into her bedroom, bidding Gwen goodnight as she went to sleep. She threw her bag onto the bed and rushed over to the window, opening it so the night air come could in. 

She huffed, leaning against the railing of the balcony, looking up to the full moon that light the dark night sky.  Her mind flew to Sebastian and his teasing comments at the plane. In any other occasion, maybe one where he wasn’t that angry at his associates, she would’ve fought him on her idea of dreaming. Dreaming. What did he even have to dream about? Like Gwen, he was filthy rich, heck even more than her. He had power, control ... if he had a dream, he could probably have it in a snap of his fingers. She guessed that at least she was in Paris and that was good, that was fantastic. 

Frankly, her mind was just wandering around the Sebastian Stan subject because, well, it didn’t want to leave the subject. The casual and messy styles she had caught him on both in sweatpants and with his dress shirt unbuttoned had glued to a psyche. Half her brain was telling her stop thinking about your friend’s future husband and the other half was telling her to go right ahead, not like Gwen would worry about it. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian was trying to handle a deal gone wrong. The most he could do was scream at them and threaten to have their head on a plate. Even with that, his associates would rather cry about spilled milk than go and try to fix it. His father was a great man but giving leadership of his French sector to Thompson Williams had been and would forever be the worse thing ever. It wasn’t like Sebastian could just demote him, it would make most of his supporters go against him and if he just killed everyone, who would do the dirty work after? 

       - It’s the second time this year. - Sebastian poured himself a glass of whiskey, trying to whisk away the fact that he’d much rather be in his hotel room, or probably Y/N’s, than dealing with a minor man’s mistake. - I’m starting to think Mr. Williams that we might have an issue here. 

       - The shipment was faulty, it is not my f ...

       - I told you the shipment was much too cheap for its value. I remember fucking telling you not to buy it and you still bought it behind my back and lost me over three million. I will have your fucking head on a stick if this isn’t solved by you, by tomorrow. - he spat at the much lower ranked mobster who was sat down on his guest office chair, except on his own office chair. - And not a single cut of the deal will fly your way. 

       - It was a good bet, I had to take it.

       - My fucking family is not fucking based on bets, it’s based on organised deals with serious fucking people who give a damn they’re part of it. - he slammed the glass hard enough against the desk to give way to a crack. - Fix it or I’ll cut your fucking hand off. 

He grabbed his jacket’s from the hanger, slung it over his shoulder and walked outside the lesser man’s office followed by his swarms of bodyguards. Did he need the bodyguards? No, it was mostly a show of power and someone who could do the dirty job if it was necessary. However, at this point, his brain was still processing at Upper East Side times and not Paris. In simpler words, he could feel his lids heavy and his temples hurt but his mind was going haywire. He should’ve fired him, god all he wanted to do was diminish him to serving drinks at his engagements. 

He reached the Hotel Montaigne closer to 4 AM and took off to his normally reserved suite. The hotel was his, or at least in the paperworks, his father’s therefore he had certain privileges such as being able to have his own room free from pesky guests, with the best view. A view of the Tower Eiffel. A view Y/N would probably enjoy.

      - Sebastian? - his head swiftly turned to the source of the noise. He noticed Y/N standing there with sleep filled eyes in a white set of pyjamas. - You banged the door a bit too loud.

      - Did I wake you up? - he tried to soften up his tone but, sadly, the business troubles were still very much present on his mind therefore his angry facade was still very much present too.

      - I’m a light sleeper. Besides, you looked worried and I thought you might want to talk about it. - she leaned against the door frame. 

      - Is that what you do when Gwen’s upset? - he pulled on the knot of his tie, successfully loosening it up and throwing it to the side.

      - No, when Gwen’s upset I lock myself in a bunker and hope she doesn’t come find me for stress relief. - Y/N closed the door behind her, trudging up to him who had now thrown his tie and jacket to the side, unbuttoning the top first buttons of his dress shirt. - I’m guessing the meeting didn’t go well.

     - Catastrophic would be underrated. 

     - You did all you could. - she gave him a soft smile, the type of smile a partner would give you when you came back from a long day. The type of smile that wrapped you in the false idea of a comfortable home life, at least, to him. Nevertheless, Y/N seemed to embody that warmth specially when she gave him that traditional signature smile of hers. His hand, mindlessly, laid upon her elbow as to which her gaze immediately lingered upon. Once again, that typical heat that made itself present when she was around him made itself known and she shifted from side to side, teeth coming to pull at the skin of her own bottom lip. - I feel like you’re upset because have an issue relinquishing control. 

Sebastian took a step back at her sentence, lips slightly open at her statement as he found it hard to reply to her. He wondered if there was something more to her ingenue environment or if that same ingenue atmosphere had given her the unknown courage of telling that to a mob boss. Of course he had to constantly have control, that was his job. 

     - You can’t control everything in your life, Sebastian. - she sat on top of his much comfortable looking duvet. Unlike her room which was decorated in shades of white, his bedroom was decorated in dark rich shades of scarlet red and light beiges. - It goes against the laws of nature itself doesn’t it?

    - Well ... - he took to sitting by her side, leaving not much of two inches between the beginning of both their hips. - I believe that humans are really good at controlling even the laws of nature. We decide when plants bloom, when and how animals should procreate and even their genetics ... why shouldn’t I believe I can control everything?

    - Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. If you worry about every single time you lose control over your business, it’s more like punishing yourself than punishing the ones you’re meant to. 

    - I’m really grateful for your concern, Y/N, but you’re not my handmaid, you don’t have to worry about me. 

   - Don’t tell me you even wish to control who worries about you and who doesn’t. - she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him but he merely chuckled at her. 

Y/N gaze moved from his inspections one to the window, eyes agape as she came in contact with the most beautiful view she could ever picture. Mindlessly, the young woman rushed over to the balcony, only stopping once the rails hit her stomach. The night air and the look at the Tower Eiffel looked exactly like what one of her very good dreams would entail. Her eye sparkle and wondrous look did not go unnoticed by the mob boss who paced over to her side, gaze fixed on her soft complexion and how the smallest things just seemed to have the largest effect on her. Maybe owning the hotel had made him forgot how breathtaking the view really was or maybe it was because she was over there in white pyjama shorts and shirt with the most striking look in her eyes. 

    - Woah, angel. - he put his hand on her abdomen, slightly pushing her back before she could cross over the railing. - We don’t want you to fall, do we?

    - It’s just marvellous. How can you even sleep with a view like this? - well, he would very much enjoy to fall asleep in that balcony if she were by his side. 

    - I’ve been seeing this since I was a kid, Y/N. It loses its charm. 

    - No, I don’t believe that. You just have no taste.

    - I have no taste? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her. - Angel, I’ve had people’s head for less.

    - Oh ... I’m sorry. - she took a step backward, playing with her hair. 

    - I was just playing. - his hand rested on her forearm, caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. - Look, if you wa...

    - Mr. Stan? - the bodyguard knocked on the suite’s door, making Y/N take a few steps back becoming void of his touch. 

    - WHAT?! - Sebastian barked at the man, turning around, hand on top of his silver revolver just in case. Not that he was gonna shot the man in front of Y/N, he would probably traumatise her and Gwen would sue him. The man cowered in front of him, eyes settled on the young woman by his side knowing she was the only reason he wasn’t dodging a bullet.

   - There’s a call for you from Mr. Williams. 

   - You should go. - Y/N smiled, tired. - I should probably return to bed. 

   - Wait, angel, will you join me for breakfast tomorrow morning? I can get some room service, have it by the balcony.

   - I’m sorry, Sebastian. I already promised Gwen I would go shopping with her in the early morning. - sure, she’d rather be having breakfast with the Tower Eiffel in sight than having to go to the Champs-Élysées with Gwen for some high spending shopping. Yet, on the other hand, it felt odd to have breakfast with her friend’s fiancé. She shouldn’t.

Without giving too much of a look to Sebastian whose traits probably included persuasion, she returned to her bedroom, locked the door behind her and tucked herself into the comfortable sheets. Her eyes were set in the darkness of the bedroom, heart beating like a drum as his touch seemed to linger on her skin, almost like a ghost feeling. 

Y/N didn’t remember falling asleep, however it felt like she didn’t slept for long once her alarm went off. With a tiring motion, she lifted from her torso from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. She placed her feet on the floor and meandered around her room, hoping the cardio-like walk would wake her up a bit more. After sleep disappeared from her eyes she grabbed her clothing and walked off her bedroom, knocking on Gwen’s door. Much to her surprise, she was already prepared to go, sunglasses on and a dark velvet green dress on matched with brown boots.

     - Aren’t you excited? Paris shopping. - Gwen pushed her handmaid by the arm, followed by the bodyguards onto the lift. However, all Y/N could think of was Sebastian. She felt bad for denying his request, mostly because she really did enjoy the request but being on his company all the time would probably hurt his image or even worse hurt Gwen’s feelings. 

Maybe it had been her willingness to overthink a simple suggestion, but once her brain took her back to reality she was standing at the very long Champs-Élysées where Gwen was rushing around like a mad-men. Y/N always found the Champs-Élysées rather more accessible than the Upper East Side, mostly due to the existence of more low end shops and known banks than the New York district, yet, the overwhelming amount of high class shops like Marcs Jacobs and Channel made it look like a rich person’s playground. It definitely was that, but Y/N was most interested in the stores’ architecture and Paris’ landscape. However, she was not immune to some materialistic stuff, specially once the two stopped by the brilliantly built Ladurée. The shades of light turquoise like green made it look like something straight off a fairytale book and the sweets on the window display made everyone crave sugar.

    - You look very lost today. - Gwen commented, entering the shop along with her handmaid. - I haven’t seen you look this lost since you finished reading Gone Girl.

   - I’m just tired. - Y/N smiled tightly, dismissing her friend’s concerns, however, Gwen was much too curious to just let it go. - Couldn’t really sleep.

   - Alexander told me you were in Sebastian’s room last night. Is there something happening that you haven’t told me? Is it about me?

   - He just wanted to know how to get closer to you, Gwen. You know I wouldn’t tell him anything you didn’t want me to.

   - I don’t know, Y/N ... - she pointed at a pink box of what looked like macaroons on the display, handing the cashier her card. - You are very ... righteous sometimes. Pretty sure you can’t lie even without a gun to your head. 

   - You know I’m loyal to the Forrest family, I wouldn’t tell Mr. Stan anything that you didn’t allow me to. 

   - Good. I heard he was pissed about Thompson. I don’t know why he wasn’t placed a bullet in the middle of his eyes, I would. - the cashier handed her the pink box and the two women followed by the bodyguards walked back outside onto the street. 

   - You can’t just shot everyone you hate, Gwen. Who would you rule over then?

   - Newer, smarter people. 

They were out on the street until late afternoon when Gwen decided it was time to return to the hotel, which Y/N’s feet were eternally grateful for. As per usual, she had ended up carrying her fair share of bags along with the bodyguards and the weight plus all the walking had left her wanting nothing but to lay down and perish for a few seconds. 

After all the bags were in the heiress’ room and she had sneakingly, yet not that unnoticeably to Y/N, walked to the hotel bar with one of the bodyguards she was particularly found of, Y/N was finally free to return to her bedroom. Happily. she tapped her card against the bedroom door, a click indicating the door was ready to be open. Pushing her door open, her heart skipped a beat as a very familiar figure stood in the middle of her room. She let out a gasp, holding onto the handle of the door, ready to bolt off.

   - Please don’t be scared, Miss Y/N. - Mr. Williams prowled to her, a bit to close for comfort. - I just needed to have a word with you.

   - Mr. Stan and Ms. Forrest are not available, right now. Please leave my bedroom. - her knuckles held forcefully onto the handle of the door, hoping a bodyguard would notice the slightly creaked door. 

   - I wish to speak for you, please Miss. You must speak with Mr. Stan about me, try to get me in his good graces please.

   - I think you should speak with Ms. Forrest about that not me. - well good luck, she liked him even less than Sebastian and unlike the mob boss was rather reckless in her decisions.

   - I don’t think she is as influential as you are, Miss. With all due respect, I believe you’re the only one who can help me and maybe gain me some forgiveness. - his voice was honeyed, yet his words registered like nails on chalkboards on her brain. - Please, Miss Y/N, I’m sure if you ask him he won’t be as harsh. 

   - I think you misjudged my relationship towards Mr. Stan. I’m his employee, I would love to help but I don’t think he would care much for my opinion. 

   - You certainly have noticed you’re highly in his favour, Miss Y/N. Please, I’ll make it worth your while. - he grinned at her almost as if he was mocking her words, but that wasn’t what really was bothering Y/N. His presence bothered her, specially once his hand went over hers to pull the handle completely. - I would be grateful. 

 He opened the door completely, walking off and shutting it on the young woman. Almost out of memory, she locked the door and rushed over to her balcony to do the same thing. Y/N didn’t want to think about how he’d gotten in her bedroom, he clearly wasn’t in any of Sebastian’s favourite books and definitely not in Gwen’s. 

   - M’am? - her body trembled at the knock of the door but the voice soothed her. Thankfully, it was her bodyguard - It’s me, m’am. We can’t have the doors locked with you inside the room for safety measures.

   - I’m sorry. - Y/N’s hands shivered as she unlocked the door, opening it slightly to stare at the bodyguard. - I’m sorry, Elias. I was just not feeling very well. 

   - Oh, would you like me to notice Mr. Stan or Ms. Forrest?

   - No, it’s fine. It’s fine. - she gave him an understanding smile before closing the door again. Without much thought, she stripped off her clothes and jumped into the shower allowing the hot water to drip down her body. In his favour, she wasn’t in his favour. She was just his employee and his fiancée’s handmaid, meaning he shouldn’t really be rude to her.

It wasn’t like Y/N could just go on and tell him to go easy on one of his associates, she just couldn’t unless she wanted to be screamed at. Being screamed at is not something she really wanted but on the other hand, she didn’t want Gwen or Sebastian to shot him for no reason or for at least an unreasonable one. Besides, Mr. Williams looked scared. With that in her mind, she walked off the shower, putting on one of her sweater-like fabric dresses.

   - Y/N? - she hunched her shoulders, hand on top of her chest as the knocks reverberated within her room. God, why does everyone want to speak with her today?

   - Come in. - Sebastian came into the bedroom, back in his very business formal which somehow disappointed her. She definitely preferred the more relaxed style, at least on him. - Gwen is at the bar right now, if you’re looking for her. 

   - I own this hotel, angel. I know exactly where everyone is. I’m here because Elias told me you weren’t feeling well. - that little back stabber. - Was the shopping trip that bad?

   - I’m just a bit ... I think overwhelmed fits. 

   - Too overwhelmed for a surprise? 

   - I think I’ve had my fair share of surprises today, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what you have in store.

   - Well, c’mon then. - we checked his watch. - We have a few minutes.

She shrugged, getting up from the bed and following him into his bedroom, looking around to make sure Gwen wasn’t around to ask many questions. Her major issue was that her friend thought that she was feeding Sebastian information about her love life and maybe she would, if she remembered the last guy she was with. 

Sebastian pulled her until his balcony, setting her so that her sight laid on the sunset landscape and the Tower Eiffel. 

   - What am I looking at? - not that she didn’t love the sunset, she absolutely did, she just thought it wouldn’t be something Sebastian would be particular excited to show her. Not that he should be excited to show her anything. 

   - Just wait. - he checked his watch once again, ensuring her gaze didn’t leave the iron lady. As Y/N readied herself to ask him what he wanted her to see, the Tower Eiffel lit up and like the building so did her eyes as she gasped at the sight in front of her. If she thought the view from last night was stunning, she did absolutely thought this thing was merely out of this world. - It lights up at sunset. 

   - This is just beautiful. Thank you so much. - she wrapped her arms around him for a few seconds before returning to look at the lit up building. - Ugh, I could just live here forever.

   - You’re certainly easy to please. - he leaned against the railings, looking at her with the look of utter most adoration. How could someone in her field still enjoy the little things was always interesting. 

   - I ... I need to speak you. - she played with her nails, looking up to his eyes.

   - Should I be concerned?

   - It’s about Mr. Williams.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou​ @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom​ 

[rose-tinted-juls]

juliana's comfort movies

updated: 15.06.2021.

dead poets society (1989)

main actors: robert sean leonard, ethan hawke, robin williams

short summary (imdb): "maverick teacher john keating uses poetry to embolden his boarding school students to new heights of self-expression."

why i love it (in a few words): incredible actors, loveable scenes, heartbreakingly good performance, perfectly written lines, i love robin williams, dark academia aesthetic, full of adorable (and attractive) characters

hacksaw ridge (2016)

main actors: andrew garfield, sam worthington, luke bracey, vince vaughn

short summary (imdb): "world war ii american army medic desmond t. doss, who served during the battle of okinawa, refuses to kill people, and becomes the first man in american history to receive the medal of honor without firing a shot."

why i love it (in a few words): incredible actors, ww2 movie, true story, inspiring and breathtaking, really graphic (this can be a warning as well)

little women (2019)

main actors: saoirse ronan, timothée chalamet, emma watson, florence pugh

short summary: "jo march reflects back and forth on her life, telling the beloved story of the march sisters - four young women, each determined to live life on her own terms."

why i love it (in a few words): the aesthetic, so many incredible actors, i love this story (loved the novel and the original movie too), somehow it's so relatable, i absolutely adore greta gerwig

good will hunting (1997)

main actors: matt damon, robin williams, ben affleck, stellan skarsgård

short summary (imdb): "will hunting, a janitor at m.i.t., has a gift for mathematics, but needs help from a psychologist to find direction in his life."

why i love it (in a few words): i love matt and ben and i'm so impressed that they wrote this whole thing so young, inspiring, somehow relatable even though i'm not a math genius, the aesthetic, the actors' performance oh my, as i already said i absolutely adore robin williams, young matt damon looks breathtaking (sorry not sorry)

the godfather i & ii (1972, 1974)

main actors: al pacino, james caan, robert de niro, robert duvall

short summaries (imdb): "an organized crime dynasty's aging patriarch transfers control of his clandestine empire to his reluctant son." and "the early life and career of vito corleone in 1920s new york city is portrayed, while his son, michael, expands and tightens his grip on the family crime syndicate."

why i love it (in a few words): for some reason i have a thing for mob things, i love al pacino (phenomenal acting talent, pretty attractive), this one's a true classic, literally oldie but goldie

dunkirk (2017)

main actors: fionn whitehead, mark rylance, tom hardy, harry styles

short summary (imdb): "allied soldiers from belgium, the british commonwealth and empire, and france are surrounded by the german army and evacuated during a fierce battle in world war ii."

why i love it (in a few words): i love christopher nolan's movies, ww2 movie, perfectly written script with all the needed things, so many amazing actors and characters, the cinematography

memo (2016)

main actors: tamás lengyel, áron molnár, péter haumann

short summary (imdb): "an ambitious psychiatrist is researching a strange and unique mental state: hypermnesia, just so he could help his amnesic father. when he finds a patient with hypermnesia, he decides to take him out of the mental hospital at his own risk and study him. an unusual relationship is formed between the two men, which starts to endanger the doctor's career, his marriage and even the patient himself."

why i love it (in a few words): it's one of the few hungarian movies that i truly love, amazing actors that i love so much, such interesting story, could watch whenever and endless amount of times

back to the future i, ii & iii (1985, 1989, 1990)

main actors: michael j. fox, christopher lloyd, lea thompson

short summaries (imdb): "marty mcfly, a 17-year-old high school student, is accidentally sent thirty years into the past in a time-traveling delorean invented by his close friend, the eccentric scientist doc brown." and "after visiting 2015, marty must repeat his visit to 1955 to prevent disastrous changes to 1985...without interfering with his first trip." and "stranded in 1955, marty learns about the death of doc brown in 1885 and must travel back in time to save him. with no fuel readily available for the delorean, the two must figure how to escape the old west before doc is murdered."

why i love it (in a few words): could watch endless amount of times, i love michael j. fox and christopher lloyd, they are perfect for these roles, it's funny interesting and so enjoyable, time travel

when harry met sally (1989)

main actors: billy crystal, meg ryan, carrie fisher

short summary (wikipedia): "the story follows the title characters from the time they meet in chicago just before sharing a cross-country drive, through twelve years of chance encounters in new york city. the film raises the question: can men and women ever just be friends?"

why i love it (in a few words): so much fun to watch, honestly though somehow it's so fanfic like, these two actors oh my, this is the standard of romantic movies, it set the bar to high so no romcom ever could reach it, oen of my favourite romantic movies ever

about time (2013)

main actors: domhnall gleeson, rachel mcadams, bill nighy

short summary (imdb): "at the age of 21, tim discovers he can travel in time and change what happens and has happened in his own life. his decision to make his world a better place by getting a girlfriend turns out not to be as easy as you might think."

why i love it (in a few words): i love domhnall and rachel SO MUCH, bill nighy is in it and he's phenomenal, this is such an interesting concept, it makes me think and try to live my life with a more positive mindset, this is my other favourite romantic movie ever, it makes me feel so happy whenever i watch it, time travel

[fgodestinyawakenings]

FGO Destiny Awakenings: Fujimaru Ritsuka and Fujimaru Ritsuko bio

My procrastination on life, writing my story, anything I needed to do is bad enough I’m surfing web day by day so.... Might as well get my ass to work on this

This is pretty long since it’s two people bio, so everything is under the cut! 

Note: In regards to their Magic Circuit quantity, neither FGO wiki or material gives any information about them. I’ve estimated them to be around Emiya Shirou’s level of circuit, but can be lower or higher... But more likely lower as they are only receiving magecraft training in the story

Note 2: Foreign languages in here are courtesy of google translate, if you’re able to improvise its grammar, please drop me an ask so I can edit

Note 3: Some of the info are quite spoilerly but not that much spoiler since it’s a base information for me on their personality, background, magecraft

Note 4: After reading the bio, I know some will be enrage with me at the sensitive topics I’m about to touch for this story. Some are imagination, some are based on what I experience, and I won’t revealed which of what is imagination or experiences in reality. The bio will contain sensitive potential topics such as Depression & Family abuse, you’re entering this at your own risk to read.

Reminder: Yes this is fiction, but you need to separate in from reality. I’m not your babysitter to cater your needs, I have put up 4 notes to remind you of the content you’re entering. And yes, I’ve pacing back and forth on their backstory knowing the backlash I received since this is Fate lore we’re going in out of consideration.

Fujimaru Ritsuka

Character Type: Human, Master, Magus

Affliliation: Chaldea Security Organization

Gender: Male

*Lineage: TBA

Birthday: December 6th

Height: 1.72m

Place of Origin: Japan

Alignment: Lawful Good

Likes: Meeting and getting to know historical figures, Magi*Mari, Reading and Researching about history

Dislikes: Needles

Talents: Stage Magic 

Circuit Quality: D

Circuit Quantity: D

Magic: Projection (Illusion), Hypnosis

Elemental Affinity: Air, particularly closest to Mist

Profile

Background

Ritsuka’s father divorced with his birth mother for unspoken circumstances and remarried to Ritsuko’s mother at the age of 11. At their first meeting, Ritsuka’s body was completely frail with his bones visible in plain view, wearing a dead emotionless face that shocked Ritsuko completely. His family situation was only described to young Ritsuko that Ritsuka’s father is doing everything it takes to ensure his mother will never come near him again.

But after spending more time with his new sister, Ritsuka gained back not only his weight, but his ability to speak, where first happened to yell at her for being reckless in fighting against their bullies. Though, he immediately regretted doing so and apologized afterwards when he knew all she did was to protect him.

Whenever someone brought up about his mom, Ritsuka immediately pushed the subject away to another topic. However when prodded further a little, he’s often described to be showing his real self by a broken look with a heartbreaking smile whenever he mentions about her

Personality

Intelligent, compassionate, self-conscious and rational with a reserved personality holding a snarky mouth, Ritsuka is considered the “brains” and leader to his sister and contracted Servants in their goal to restore humanity  

By many Servants and Chaldea Staff who are Mages, he’s often described as someone “born with a heart that’s unfitting to be a magus”. Ritsuka would often bring his tablet along in each Singularity to inquire and take photos of the historical in each singularity. His scrupulous attention to detail comes in handy when he is off creating strategies to win against the enemies in the Singularity. And his ability to learn magic quickly helps in fasten his pace to be a better Master, but sometimes his answers in avoiding his friends to find out his meeting with Merlin within his dreams leaves others questioning his credibility for his talent. 

Because of his strategic mindset, Ritsuka is highly perceptive to the others' feelings, and can figure out the source of most people's inner turmoil in a matter of a few important conversations.

“The last time someone falls in love with somebody, they had either--created a stepping stone to an illegitimate son to bring his father’s kingdom fall into ruins, trapped themselves forever in a land of utopia or even knocked up with his Master’s sister because why the hell not. No offense to you, Caster.”

-- Ritsuka to his sister while mentioning about Arthur’s, Merlin’s and Cu Chulainn’s love life  

However his lack of experience in love and holding low regards about it from reading tons of historical and mythology books, had made him completely oblivious to his own and other people who had fallen in love with him. Though this is mainly of his own low self-esteem of his own worth as a person may have stemmed from his childhood, despite being considered an ace in everything he does by his sister. Ritsuka usually hide this but immediately quickly putting back up the façade of “a reliable and dependable but also ridiculously goofy person” when someone notice.

Understanding how critical their situation is, Ritsuka often refuse to sit still when there’s a given chance to do anything to help Chaldea. He also seems to get a little annoyed sometimes when people think he's cute or adorable, as he wants to be taken seriously like a grown-up from people around him as at most times Ritsuka is more mature and wiser than others. 

When Ritsuka and Ritsuko are on their adventures in the Singularity, Ritsuka is the one to act as the leader because he is shown to be very brave and smart. He can be very protective of his sister, whenever she is in danger he is always there to help and will do anything to get her free.

It is also well mentioned that unlike his sister whom is open about her problems and sociable, Ritsuka is much more reserved and emotionally distant often avoiding talking about his past and himself. Even though he admired Heroic Spirits greatly and wished to understand them more, some would notice he often forced himself to draw a line from getting too close for some reason. But as the journey goes, Ritsuka has become greatly attached to everyone in Chaldea amd considered them strongly as his secondary family.

With his strong knowledge in history and novels, Ritsuka thinks much like an actual detective.

Despite his serious personality, living with Ritsuko his whole life (who is famous for her silly attitude) has caused him to indulge in childish activities with her. As such often either jokingly teased he’s forced to join with the shenanigans with the Child Servants, or mostly being the butt monkey teasing by them.

He also holds a huge soft spot towards children in particular to Jack and Mordred. When asked why in particular, Ritsuka easily gives his true smile that children like them deserve the love and acknowledgement they needed. But, he does a huge comedic soft spot to Alexandar and Ko-Gil, making his heart thumping when both used their charm while calling him “Onii-chan”.

He also seems to not mind breaking the rules in order to have some fun, which often having him to be scolded by Emiya when he does so. In particular habit is often staying up late or staying over at Romani’s room to watch Magi*Mari.

Abilities

“Merlin: After all, you and I are very similar, Ritsuka-kun. There shouldn’t be a problem for you to learn my tricks. Ritsuka: By similar, if you’re talking about having the same sexual reproductive organs... That’s captain obvious, Merlin.”

-- Ritsuka to Merlin on his first lesson with him

Illusion Magecraft

With his experience in entertainment magic, Merlin had taught him in magecraft of deception and proficiency in Projection. A magecraft that relies on fooling a being’s psyche to win, a magic which Ritsuka concluded only a mage like Merlin befits this magic for his notorious mischievous behavior.

Misdirection

Under the incantation chant “maintenant tu me vois maintenant tu ne”, Ritsuka will fool his enemy thinking that he had disappeared by their five senses. Rather than concealing his presence, Merlin described this spell as “Putting one’s attention focused strongly onto another. Like falling in love at first sight, where your world focus on that person alone!”

This spell Ritsuka commonly mostly to hide himself from enemy, and also additionally do a surprise attack from the back

However due to his quantity and quality of his magic circuits, Servants and enemies with strong sense and Clairvoyance are able to notice his whereabouts.

Projection (Illusion)

Unlike Emiya’s projection, Ritsuka’s projection creates objects based on his memories and imagination. A skill he’s able to do easily as though it’s strangely natural from his muscle memories, he currently lacks the learning to reinforce his projected works to a reality

Under Merlin’s teachings, Ritsuka is able to create an illusion of manipulating to fool his enemies five senses during battle. But, it may not work if one is able to see through eventually  

To perform this magecraft, he need to act/pretend of an action in order to project the desired item from his mind into reality. However because it’s like an illusion, not only it lasted for seconds to minutes, that item may not even appeared in his enemy vision if the latter noticed the truth.

Combat

Even if magic circuits is weak, Ritsuka makes it up by physical combat via kendo. In combat, Ritsuka will give commands to his Servants while fighting against the lower mobs summoned by enemy Servants. Lacking any fear towards death, Ritsuka won’t hesitate to step forward to deal against enemy Servants if needed to buy some time for his allies Servant to summon their Noble Phantasm

As such even facing against a professional magus, Ritsuka treats it as an experiment test nearly at the cost of his own life to find a weakness within them.

Role

Ritsuka acts both support and fights with their Servants in Chaldea. He has no specific Servant in mind as being dragged into the World of Magus. Ritsuka admired all Heroic Spirits, often near instantly switched into his fanboy mode when meeting those he admired. 

While he enjoys their company and wishes to personally know each of them better, he does get exasperated by some of the extremely colorful and chaotic Servants summoned in Chaldea.

But, Ritsuka instantly draws a line between him and the Servants from getting to close by often avoiding talking about himself and his own true feelings. Despite making himself distant from them, he cares a great deal about them and strongly hated the idea of treating them and anyone as tools or weapons to use.

Unlike his sister, he’s the one who supplies mana generally to most of the Servants via a technique Merlin taught him when he requested earnestly for his help.

Fujimaru Ritsuko

Character Type: Human, Master, Magus 

Affliliation: Chaldea Security Organization 

Gender: Female

Lineage: TBA

Birthday: May 29th

Height: 1.58m

Alignment: Lawful Good

Likes: Sports (mainly excel in softball and basketball), Morning workout as early as 4am, Sweets

Dislikes: Studying through reading of books, Anyone who hurts her brother and even attempting to bring up his family problems, House chores

Talents: Accuracy in throwing and quick learning speed taught via hands-on

Circuit Quality: D+

Circuit Quantity: D+

Magic: Nine Hand Seal Magecraft

Elemental Affinity: Fire

Profile

Background

Ritsuko mentions to Mash in Fuyuki Singulary Section 9 Part 1 that her real father disappeared on both her mother and her when she was a baby for reasons unknown. As such, it’s noted her mother has been raising her single-handedly by herself before remarrying Ritsuka’s father when she was 10.

At their first meeting, Ritsuko was completely horrified at Ritsuka’s body was completely frail with his bones visible in plain view, wearing a dead emotionless face that barely even respond to her when she first greeting him warmly. His family situation was only described to young Ritsuko when she asked was that Ritsuka’s father is doing everything it takes to ensure his mother will never come near him again, and will only explain to her when she grew older.

She mentioned though he was quiet, he was still receptive if not hesitant in answering to her. But after spending more time with his new sister, Ritsuka gained back not only his weight, but his ability to speak mainly to yell at her for being reckless in fighting against her bullies. Though at that time, Ritsuko chuckled she was unsure why she was crying while he apologized; whether it was the bullies, her brother scolded her, or the happiness she felt when she saw life in her brother’s eyes after months of wondering if the effort was futile to get closer to her new older brother. 

Personality

On the surface, Ritsuko is fierce, independent, and pugnacious, but beneath her tough exterior, she possesses a strong loyalty toward her friends and duty as the Humanity’s last Master with her brother. She also has an admirable compassion and devotion, demonstrated when she expresses love toward things such as her family and friends. Unlike the calmer and reserved Ritsuka, Ritsuko is similarly quick witted and impulsive, especially in heated situations. And, she lacked perception towards her rash decisions often resulted in her accidentally insulting others.

Ritsuko is tough, impatient, headstrong, sarcastic, and assertive. Due to her crush on Mash, she tends to pull her away and shield her from others who showed interest in her. Like her brother, Ritsuko fully embraced her position as the Humanity’s Last Master, but lamenting her weakness how she isn’t calm and level-headed as her brother. A trait of Ritsuka she admires greatly when they were kids, as she’ll always be grateful during the times she was in near trouble. Mainly Ritsuka’s willingness and accepting of her secret towards her interest in woman, as she didn’t want her mother to know out of fear of disappointing her.

Because of this, Ritsuko also tends to be protective and even more so than her brother when it comes to his own well-being. Her mother never told anything about Ritsuka’s parents, except as she quoted: 

“Mom said I was too young understand. Telling me Ritsuka’s mom did something really bad to him so Dad ensured his mom will never come close to meet Ritsuka again.”

As such, Ritsuko often keeps an eye on Ritsuka’s reaction whenever someone asks about his mom; ready to deflect or even pull him away at the uncomfortable situation.

Initially frightened and frozen with fear at Fuyuki Singularity, Ritsuko lamented with regret greatly how if her strength to save Mash from Artoria Alter’s Noble Phantasm could do the same for Olga Marie. But, she knew better she can’t wallow in grief, vowing to grow stronger and requested Emiya’s and Sadakuni’s aid to train her in combat and magecraft respectively.

Abilities

"Boomer-Dagger”

A pair of dagger crafted specially by Emiya after considering her skillset. It can be used for both physical combat and her magecraft. When thrown to her enemies, it returns to her via an invisible string connecting to her magic circuit. Also, it’s used as a placeholder on her talisman before conjuring her Nine Hand Seal Mudra Magecraft

Talisman

Her catalyst to invoke with her magecraft. Taught by Sadakuni, she needs to place it on her target before doing her Mudras to attack her opponent. Ritsuko often brings her mat of magic circle drawn by her blood to imbued powers into the talisman daily through meditation.

Onmyoudo Kuji-in aka Nine Hand Seals Magecraft

Taught by Section Chief Agano Sadakuni, Ritsuko mainly uses this magecraft for combat. This magecraft relies specifically on specific hand gesture and pattern to conjure her spells. From reinforcing her weapon and physical strength, to summoning fire magic for combat

Rin-Pyo-Toh, ready for battle: Enhancing her physical strength

Kai-Jin-Retsu, release: Conjure an explosion burst of flames

Jin-Pyo-Zai, bind: With ranged of 10 talisman connected by a burning magical rope to bind the target

Zai-Sha-Kai, heal: Transfer her mana for healing or empowering her Servant

Combat

Like her brother despite having slighter better circuits than him, Ritsuko sides along with her brother via physical combat. She often pairs with her brother, acting as a bait to go against the enemy, while Ritsuka pulls off a surprise ambush via his illusion magecraft.

In the face of an enemy Servant, Ritsuko steps back to give orders to the Servant she contracted with.

Role

While she treats Servants who are Kings or Queen with respect by their title, Ritsuko treats everyone equally with respect and as a friend. She’s shown to be more than willing to teach them about the modern technology and slang, also joining them in their crazy plans often resulted in chaotic humor, much to Ritsuka’s chagrin.

Like her brother, Ritsuko detested the idea of anyone treating Servants as tools or weapons as she view those who contracted her as their friend. This feeling also extend to her enemy Servant, believing they are living beings with their own free will and emotions.

While her brother generally supplies mana to their Servants, Ritsuko acts second-in-charge right after he finish mana transferring to their Servant which resulted him immobile and carried around by Emiya or Caster Cu Chulainn.

[itssolonelyhere]

I love your JokeSaku fics and I just wanna point out some things I noticed and hopefully get a comment from you about them- You represented Joker as the jack of spades. I got confused at first because a jack is supposed to mean a knave/Knight but then I thought maybe it's just a play over his name being Jack How did Hyeon know Sakura to the point he's suspicious of her? Did I miss a paragraph? Would love to read Sakura talk in Japanese in any fic and confuse everyone When will you update?

Hello, anon 💖Thank you so much for reading my stories 😭... Point out things to your heart’s desire! I love hearing from readers and answering questions about my fics. My responses might also help explain parts to others with the same inquiries as well 🥰.

🃏 With the cards, I have a couple reasons for my choice. Whenever I’ve watched/participated in card games, most people take the Joker card out from the start. He’s discarded off to the side, away from the rest. To me, that flows so well with his antisocial personality and mindset. Keeping that in mind, I chose another one from the deck that reflects what’s taking place. Him showing Sakura how to play is meant to be a different form of information gathering since the others aren’t working out so well. Throughout the game, J ends up actually having a good time and relishing the idea that anything she knows about the cards is from what he’s telling her (so he thinks). 

In this moment, he’s letting himself be more Jack than the Joker... If that makes sense? They’re both terrible, yes, but he mentions it’s been a long time since he allowed himself to enjoy an activity that doesn’t involve some form of violence. It’s also a play on his real name, too. I also looked up the meaning of cards and this is what I found about the Jack of Spades:

The Jack of Spades (JS) is a skillful, clever young man. In some of the older cartomancy meanings he represents an unsettled, erratic, emotionally inconsistent young man; or simply the thoughts of the Queen or King of Spades.

&

All Jacks are Neophytes, learning and experimenting with the esoteric meaning of their suit. The Spade Suit symbolizes the balance between wisdom and hard- work; spirituality and the physical world. The royal Jack of Spade is well positioned for success, but it is this very blessing that often leads to their demise. KARMIC CHALLENGE for the Jack of Spade: Arrogance and Manipulation.

The positive Jack of Spade have equipped themselves with education and training. They work for the love of their art or their job, not just the pay check, and they strive to give their best to the task at hand.

The negatives among these people destroy the inherent protection that surrounds them through irresponsibility and cunning. Indeed - the Jack of Spade is sometimes known as the con man of the deck. Should this be the unfortunate turn of the Card, Jacks of Spade are subject to scandal, disgrace, and misinterpretation of their motives on a very big scale. (think: Mel Gibson)

All Jack of Spade should want to take advantage of the wonderful opportunities provided by the sequence of their cards, for theirs is one of the most fortunate of all. And like all Jacks, they are charismatic, talented and youthful

Out of the deck, this one seems to fit his personality the best (that’s not a Joker card) and is one of the biggest reasons I chose it. 

🏥 So for Hyeon and Sakura, I can completely understand why it’s confusing. In the original version of Tsūyaku, there’s a scene from seven years in the past from Hyeon’s POV. He takes Jin to Gotham General to show him what happens to innocent people in the city from the mobs and ‘villains’ antics, while also keeping tabs on an investigation involving Crane (Hyeon’s still part of the GCP at this point). They see Sakura, who’s completely out of it, and has no clue. Hyeon remembers her striking appearance and Jin’s comments about it when he goes to Wayne Enterprises to talk to Bruce. 

From following up on the Crane investigation, he knew Sakura moved abroad years ago, and she wasn’t at WE just a few months prior (after going there for a different reason). To him, it’s strange that she returned around the time Joker’s crimes become more frequent and malicious (not realizing it’s Batman’s initial appearance that jumpstarted his reign of terror, not Sakura’s). He also knows that Jin was talking to a woman that recently moved back to Gotham before J murdered him and is trying to connect the dots.  

When I changed up the story, I cut out the entire flashback. I wasn’t sure if it’s too messy and wanted to make everything flow better. I’m delving into more about Batman, the D.A.’s investigation on J, etc. in the next chapter and am still debating on how to spin the connection. 

🈺 On Japanese being in the story, I actually have some scenarios planned with that. In QotR, when Sakura finds herself in Gotham, she doesn’t understand English, which really affects what happens to her in the legal system, when she’s thrown into Arkham, and dealing with the staff. J mentions he’s randomly heard a slight accent from her, but she quickly covers it up. More will come from that, too. 

In Tsūyaku, there will be a few parts where Sakura being an interpreter comes in handy as she’s dragged into Joker’s world and they have run-ins with criminals/mobsters. There are also some instances where it throws J off since he assumes she only knows Japanese 😝. 

📝 I’m 3/4 through the next QotR chapter and should have it up in the next two days. After that, I’m working on Tsūyaku and I’m hoping to update it within the week 😁. 

Thank you for sending this in and I hope it answers your questions! I know it’s a little long-winded, but I really wanted to explain my train of thought. If there’s anything else you’d like to know, don’t hesitate to send me an ask!  🥰💜💚

[letspurpletogether]

Death Gods Only Eat Apples || 01

Summary: You are the youngest and best behaviorist at the South Korean National Police Agency, but because of a recent case that earned you your first kill, you are forced to take a leave. However, a streak of recent, inexplicable deaths among Seoul´s worst criminals drags you straight back to the precinct to pursue the culprit to whom the people are referring to as Kira.

Pairings: Jungkook x reader, Seokjin x reader, Namjoon x reader.

Genre: Death Note AU, thriller, mystery, drama, romance, crime, angst.

Word count: 13.9k

Warnings: foul language, just your average crime-police drama, violence, blood, death.

You’ve never killed anyone before.

Right when you pull the trigger, you know it has to be done. You have to take the shot or an innocent woman is going to die. And you just can’t let that happen.

Your eyes find the woman’s as she is being held against her will, an arm around her neck. She screams. Her nails dig into her attacker’s flesh, but they do very little damage. He holds the gun against her head, his eyes red with madness, a vein protruding from his forehead as he warns you not to come any closer. ‘Or I’ll fucking paint this walls with her brains! I swear!’

The woman starts crying. ‘Please…’

But he just tightens his grip on her neck and starts back away towards the emergency exit. Your hands are shaking, you can’t let him get away, not after everything he’d done.

Backup is not here yet.

It’s just you and him.

The woman struggles for air, she bites and scratches him like a caged animal. She manages to draw blood as he reaches for the doorknob. He curses and, for a brief moment, the woman has a chance to escape. She slips from his grip and runs in your direction. Yet, halfway through her knees give in and she stumbles to the floor.

Her disheveled form extends a hand to you. And you notice as the man seems to struggle to open the door. You see a chance now. A struck of luck on your favor, it seems. The door is locked. He has no way out and you take the opportunity to rush forward and to try and restrain him. However, the moment he realizes this he curses and aims his gun at the woman’s back.

He gives you no choice now.

You pull the trigger.

The shot echoes through the brick walls.

And just like that, his limp body hits the ground.

‘Y/N-ssi, are you okay?’, that voice drags you out of your thoughts. You look up to see your partner’s concerned face in the desk in front of yours.

A sigh escapes from your lips. This thing again.

It’s been over 72 hours and you still catch yourself drifting back to that night. The night of your first kill. You’ve taken a life, nothing is going to change that. A young man barely older than your own brother was now dead by your hand. Yes, he was a criminal, you don’t go around shooting innocent people in the chest. He’d raped and killed four middle-school girls, he was going to receive the death penalty, anyway. But holding onto that to justify yourself doesn’t feel right. Deep down you still wonder if there wasn’t anything else you could’ve done. You didn’t have to kill him… Did you?

‘Hey, I’m starting to worry now’, Seokjin’s voice again. ‘Should I call doctor Park or something?’. You shake your head.

‘I’m okay’, you lie. ‘I spaced out’.

‘I can see that. Is the reason that bothers me’.

Seokjin was a very gentle and laid-back person. Even when you were his junior, he treated you as if you two were the same age. You weren’t sure why he did it, he was not like that with the other officers at the station.

‘It’s my head, not yours. Leave me alone’, you snap back. Jin scoffs.

‘You wish you meant that’.

You sigh and glance at the letter in your hands.

You had just been given an order to take a couple of days off because Human Resources thought you weren’t fit for the field right now. Although they were right, you didn’t want to take days off, work was all you had to keep you distracted, to keep you from thinking about that man over and over again. Closing your eyes is all it takes for you to see his vacant eyes staring at you again. Blood dripping from his lips, his body slowly falling to the ground.

Shit. You dig your nails into the armrest of your chair and take a deep breath. Your other hand, crumbles the letter into a paper ball. As a police officer it is kind of expected of you to shoot criminals if you have too, if the situation calls for it. And it did… Maybe you just weren’t expecting to wound him fatally. Geum San, wanted for armed robbery, domestic violence, rape and murder. He was only twenty years old…

‘How can this world be so fucked up that a kid like him turns out to be a monster?’ you say out loud, more to yourself than for Jin to hear. Still he replies.

‘You’re going about that Geum San case again, huh?’

‘I don’t understand why I can’t stop thinking about it’

‘The first is always the hardest’, Seokjin leans back in his chair, his arms fold over his broad chest and he shrugs. ‘I still remember mine, the guy’s face, the blood, the smell… everything’.

‘Does it ever go away?’

‘No. But it gets easier…’ he gives you a soft smile. ‘Trust me’.

You nod and check your silver wristwatch for the time. It’s almost ten, any other night the precinct would be boiling with people. But for some reason today is a quiet one. An anguished sigh escapes your lips and you lay your head down on your desk. What are you going to do now?

That’s when you feel the warmth of a palm softly touching your shoulder. ‘Wanna grab a drink?’, Seokjin asks. ‘You look like you could use one, Y/N’.

Your desk is almost drowned in paperwork you hadn’t finished but for which you definitely were not in the right mindset now. You have no one waiting for you at home since your brother left this morning for Daegu to visit your mother at the nursing home. You two live alone, and you really don’t want to arrive to an empty apartment after this notice. So yeah… A drink sounded nice.

You sit up straight, 'I would like that’.

Seokjin stands up in an energetic gesture. A bright smile illuminates his handsome face. 'Great! I know just the fanciest of places!’

The place isn’t exactly fancy, but it is cosy. And it is conveniently close to your apartment complex. There is a big red sign at the entrance that reads “Yonosuke’s Table”. It is one of those japanese-themed izakayas, very traditional looking, with shoji-style sliding doors and washi lanterns. You have never been here before, but it looks like they probably sell cheap soju. A faint smell of sugar, soy sauce and mirin welcomes you at the door. Your stomach growls so loud that Seokjin by your side hears it too and laughs.

'We can grab something to eat as well’, he says and you cheeks turned bright red. 'The dumplings here are the best’.

You hadn’t been eaten well lately. Your appetite had been shining for its absence in the past couple of days. You can’t really explain why is this being so hard for you. It’s like a sickness has taken over your body. You can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t even breathe without feeling the smell of gunpowder and blood in your hands. Whenever you close your eyes, Geum San’s vacant eyes are staring back at you. Blood dripping from his lips, his body slowly falling to the ground as the red stain on his chest expanded over his white shirt. Maybe it’s because he was the same age as your baby brother.

You sigh. And take Jin’s offer, gladly.

You go in and take a seat by the bar.

The chef is an middle-aged man dressed in a blue yukata and a white hat on his head, he reminds you of those hibachi chefs in Itaewon.He welcomes you with an energetic ‘irasshaimasen’ in a heavy Busan accent. A handsome young man walks to your table right away. By the black apron tied around his small waist you figure he must be the waiter.

'Welcome, Jin-hyung’, he says. His lips stretch in a bunny-like smile.

You take a moment to look at him properly. His light brown hair was parted to the side, and a pair of silver hoop earrings hang from his ears. Something in his face seems familiar, though you can’t really put your finger in it. And by the way Seokjin greets him back, they haven’t just met.

'Ggukie! Long time no see. How’s school going?’ Your partner smiles.

'School is great, thank you’. he replies and then glances your way.

His dark eyes scan your face, with one eyebrow cocked. Something about the way he looks at you makes you uneasy in an instant. Like he isn’t looking a you directly but to something past you.You suppress your urge to check if there’s actually something else behind you apart from the concrete wall.

Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat as he places a hand on your shoulder. ‘Oh, this is Y/N, a colleague from work’, the young man bows shortly at you, still with that suspicious look in his eyes. ‘Y/N, this is Jungkook-ah, he’s the chief’s son’.

You force yourself to smile, and try inadvertently to remove Jin’s hand from you. You’ve known Seokjin for years, but you’ve never been confortable with people touching you so easily in public.

'So you are Jungkook, your father is always talking about you’, you lie. You don’t know why you do it, perhaps it is your way to be nice to him. Maybe is you trying to escape from your thoughts through some meaningless small talk. The truth is the chief never talks about his family, not since his wife passed away under unknown circumstances. At least that is what the girl from IT, Seulgi, confided you once during a case.

The rumor was his wife had been killed as retaliation from some arrest involving the mob. Seokjin probably knows all about it, but for some reason you would rather not ask.

Jungkook’s gentle features harden at your words, disappearing into an fake smile.

‘Does he, now…’, he mutters. His tone is bitter, and you notice how he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

You clear your throat, completely aware of what you just did. ‘Anyway. It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook’. And the brat doesn’t reply. Instead, he shifts his gaze back to Seokjin as if you don’t exist.

‘What can I get you, hyung?’

'A bottle of soju’, Seokjin says, and turns to you. 'Oh! and an order of dumplings, you know how I like them’.

'Of course’, Jungkook scribbles the order down in a small notepad.

He leaves but comes back right away with the bottle and two cups. He puts them down in the table. And so your eyes can’t help but follow the movement of his hands, and accidentally wander down the muscles of his tanned arms. You take a curious look at the veins that run along his forearms and the way his biceps flex with each movement. Oh, he works out, alright. You can even see the outline of what looks like a defined chest through his white cotton t-shirt. Not bad for a brat, you think and for a brief second your eyes meet.

He gives you a questioning look, and you are quickly to look away as if nothing happened. You really don’t want to be caught checking out your own boss’ son. A small scoff leaves Jungkook’s lips, and soon he leaves again without saying a word.

Seokjin busies himself with setting the drinks so thankfully he doesn’t notice the flush on your cheeks.

‘So he’s the chief’s son, huh? He doesn’t look like his father at all’, you say, trying to brush off the feeling of awkwardness that has built up in your stomach.

‘Of course, he does. He just needs to grow a moustache’. Seokjin laughs at your disgusted face.‘Okay. Maybe not, but he’s very smart like his father’. He smiles and hands you the cup.

‘Thanks…’, You bring it your lips and drink it in one fell swoop. Seokjin chuckles.

‘Thirsty, are we?’

‘You have no idea’

‘Here, have another’, he says as he fills your cup again. He hasn’t touch his yet.

‘If I didn’t know you any better I would think you’re trying to get me drunk’.

‘Maybe I am’, Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively stealing a laugh from you.

‘Give me that’ you take the drink and chug it down, ignoring the burning aftertaste down your throat. ‘God, I really needed this’. Your partner looks at you and laughs.

‘Glad I could help’.

For a moment, a warm feeling invades you and it’s definitely not the soju. You and Seokjin have been working side by side since your first day at the force. He was assigned by Captain Bang as your supervising officer when you came fresh out of the Police Academy. Ever since, you’ve worked your cases together. You are not the social butterfly your he is, you know you have a temper and you know you are difficult to deal with. Everyone back at the precinct can and will agree on that if asked. To this day you still wonder why Seokjin chose to stay by your side when he could have easily been promoted to a different division or have a partner with his experience on the field. He just need to ask Captain Bang and he wouldn’t say no to him. No one would ever say no to Kim Seokjin.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, and you reach out to place your hand on his arm. This is very unlike you, but the moment feels right. There’s something you know, though. You have one friend, and his name is Kim Seokjin.

‘Thank you, sunbae’.

He glances confused at your hand, and when the words slip from your mouth he remains quiet, staring at you with his lips puckered. His eyes run across your face, like he’s trying to guess if you’re being serious or not. For a brief moment they land on your lips but then he burst into giggles.

‘Jesus, are you drunk already?! You are seriously out of shape here, Y/N’, he pats your hand gently. You roll your eyes.

‘I’m never calling you that again, you dick’, you remove your hand and glare at him. Seokjin just laughs even more, clapping his hands together.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You took me by surprise, you’ve never called me sunbae before’, he says and brings the little cup to his lips. ‘Look, I’ll have a drink on you now, okay?’, He chugs it down and give you an amused grin like he’s saying ‘ta-da!’.

‘So… about the chief’s son’, you scan the room for Jungkook’s figure. You find him smiling, while he serves an elderly couple a few tables away. ‘You seem quite close. I thought the chief wasn’t exactly the social type’

‘He isn’t. I met him because of a case. Do you remember that fraud case from a couple of years ago, right?’ you nod. ‘Well, the chief and Sejin-sunbaenim were asked to participate and they brought me along because by that time Sunbaenim was my supervising officer…’, Seokjin refills his shot glass first, then yours. ‘We’d been staying at the precinct for three days in a row, so Jungkook came by to give his father a change of clothes and he overheard us talking about the case. Then he came up with a brilliant suggestion about how to catch the suspect and it worked. I don’t have the details, but the leading officer, Mr. Bang decided to make him a civilian consultant for the NPA.’

‘Wow, are you serious?’, you raise your eyebrows. He is way too young to be a civilian consultant, so he must be some kind of genius for the higher ups to even consider a kid his age. ‘But I’ve never seen him down at the station before’.

Jin shrugs. ‘That’s because Jungkook-ah refused to join the NPA even if it was as a consultant. He said he was not interested in police work’

‘Why not?’

A tray of dumplings lands with a thud in front of you. You jump in your seat, startled and raise your head to meet Jungkook’s unamused glare.

‘Because my father let my mother die thanks to his job.’, he scowls. His voice is as cold as his eyes when he looks at you. ‘Do you have another question, detective?’

‘Jungkook…’, Seokjin gives him reprimanded look.

'It’s okay, Jin’, you say and then glance at Jungkook again, trying to sound diplomatic. ’ I didn’t mean to pry’.

Jungkook presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. ‘Enjoy your food’, he says. Then he leaves.

Seokjin is quick to defend him. 'Don’t take it personal, maybe he just had a bad day’, he says with an apologetic smile. You roll your eyes. 'Then that makes two of us’.

Seokjin is a hell of a talker, so he does most of it. As the night progresses, he tells you about his life in the Academy, about his older brother who is going to become a father soon, about his eight cousins and his childhood in his grandparents’ beach house in Jeju. You discuss the summer weather and the latest appointment of Bae Joohyun as head-assistant of the Crime Investigation Bureau. Maybe it is the alcohol kicking in, but by the time you reach that specific topic, you are being way too loud. You are not usually like this, however Joohyun just brings that out of you. You two have your history and it isn’t pretty. Besides... Nobody is happy about that appointment anyway. She is too young and inexperienced for the job. But since her uncle is the director of the NPA, no one dares to say anything against it—At least not out loud. Everyone at the Bureau knows that position belonged to Chief Jeon, he’s earned it through years of being one of the finest detectives in the force. But director Bae goes and overlooks all of it just to favour his niece, that crook.

‘You know? All the chief said about it was that we all should just accept it, and keep doing our jobs’, You slam a hand against the table. ‘He didn’t even seem upset! I don’t get it! He deserved the job…’ Seokjin shrugs. ‘That’s the way the Chief is. He’s like a wise monkey’. You nod in agreement. Always strict, formal and collected, that is the chief you know. With a gleam of something else in his eyes, something dangerous… And you learned today that his son has the same look in his eyes. Like a calm ocean that awaits for the right storm to raise…

Or maybe you have had enough alcohol for one night.

After a friendly competition, one bottle becomes two, and two becomes three and a couple of beers. Seokjin is all bad jokes and giggles as he tries to impress you with his drinking tricks. The dumplings are as good as he promised and he suggests ordering some rolls as well. You keep drinking, and eating, until you are the only customers left inside.

Seokjin’s almost passed out on the table, his head between his arms, his eyes puffy, his cheeks all red. And he still dared to say you were out of shape. You glance at the seven empty bottles of soju in front of you.

‘I guess we should call it a night’, Seokjin snores in response triggering a lazy laugh from you. You check your wrist watch. Jesus… It isn’t even midnight yet.

‘We are hopeless…’ you laughed again and drink what’s left from your second bottle of sapporo, before deciding to wake him up. 'Hey, Seokjinie… time to go’

'Hn…’

'Kim Seokjin, wake up’, you slap his head and he springs back up in his seat.

'This is the police wait-!’ he exclaims still half asleep. One eye open and the other closed, and a trail of saliva going down from the corner of his mouth. 'What?’

'You’re drunk, go home’, you say and he nods, starting to fall asleep again. 'Hey!’

'Ah! Yes, yes… home’

'Get up, I’m going to get you a cab’, yoy stand up and reach for him, pulling him up from his jacket suit to make him stand up. He stumbles over the table but you manage to keep him on his feet until you reach the door and you stop a taxi. 'Take him here and make sure he gets inside’, you hand the driver a paper with Seokjin’s address and push your drunken partner inside the car.

'Thank you for going out with me, Y/N’, Seokjin mumbles.

'This wasn’t a date’.

'Yes, it was’, he gives you a rather goofy grin so yo can’t help but smile back.

‘Get some rest’, you close the car’s door and watch it drive away. When you back inside to gather your things, you approach the chef by the bar. ’Ahjussi, how much is it?’, you ask. He waves a hand in the air.

'Don’t worry, I already put it on his tab’.

'But, I-’

'A lady shouldn’t pay when a man invites her’, he says with an indulgent smile. Well, you are not going to complain. You give him a small bow.

'I’ll be going then. Thank you for the food’

'Oh, lady, wait’, you stop and turn around just in time to see the ahjussi gesturing something to Jungkook who is minding his own things cleaning the bar. Whatever he says, the boy doesn’t like it.

He rolls his eyes before taking off his apron and toss it next to the wet cloth he was using to clean. But the ahjussi smiles at you. 'It’s too late for a pretty lady to walk alone, Jungkookie will escort you home’.

'That’s not necessary, sir. I’m-’

'I insist, please’, the worried look he gives you chastises any protest you might have.

Although you could remind him that you are a police officer and his worries have no basis whatsoever, you don’t want the bother. It’s late, and you want to go home. ‘…Okay’. He smiles at you warmly.

After a few minutes, Jungkook comes out from the back room wearing a checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up at his elbows and a pair of bluejeans. His body language says it all: hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed and chin slightly raised. He isn’t happy about having to escort you home.

'Let’s go’, he says without looking at you. He just walks pass where you are standing and stops by the door. 'What are you waiting for?’

You take a deep sigh.

You’ve been walking for about five minutes and neither of you has said a single word. There is still a few blocks to go before you arrived, and you can’t stand that awkward silence any longer.

'So, Jungkook-ah…’, you try to sound friendlier, 'Are you a student?’

He scoffs. 'Why? Do I look like a mediocre man than can’t do anything better with his life than to work as a waiter in an underrated izakaya?’ His tone is sarcastic. He is such a child if he is still mad at you for asking Seokjin about him. How immature, you scowl at him.

'That’s not what I meant’

'Yes, I am a student’, he says, as if your question is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

'Good for you’, you reply sharply.

The silence settles between you two again. Your footsteps against the pavement is all that is to be heard along with the occasional car that passes by. But it doesn’t take much longer for Jungkook to break the silence.

’Hyungnim is a good guy, make sure you don’t hurt him’

You raise an eyebrow. 'Excuse me?’

‘You heard me’. He doesn’t glance your way one time. He just keeps talking with his chin held high like the pretentious little prick you realise he is. 'You look like the kind of woman who doesn’t cope with the girlfriend thing’

You stop on your tracks and turn around to face him.

'What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

'I’m just warning you, because hyung likes you a lot’, he says, ignoring your previous question. 'You are Y/N, right? He talks about you a lot when he comes by the bar.’

'We are just friends. Besides, that’s none of your damn business!’, you snap at him and quickly resumed your walk.

Jungkook follows a few steps behind.

'It’s nothing personal, I just happen to know your type, Y/N’, he speaks again and you swear you are about to hit him in that pretty face of his. He doesn’t even use the honorifics and you hate the way your name sounds in his lips. 'Women who are too comfortable with the attention they get to actually be serious about someone’.

'This is unbelievable’, You mumble under your breath and turn around to face him. Your sudden move brings his steps to a halt. You note he’s tall, maybe taller than Seokjin himself. 'Listen, kid. You don’t know me enough to get to share an opinion about how I am! I don’t care if you are the chief’s son, you can stick your opinions up your ass!’

Jungkook lets out a conceited chuckle and shakes his head like he finds your word hilarious.

'Do you plan on becoming hyung’s girlfriend or not?’, he bluntly asks. You don’t reply, though. It’s not worth it. He is not worth it. He’s been nothing but childish and downright annoying. Jungkook takes your lack of answer as a negative and gives you a condescending look. ‘That’s my point’

'So what? Am I a bad woman just for not being interested in a guy that’s into me?’

'Not for that. For using him, and abuse his attentions to get distracted’

'That’s it! I don’t know what I did to deserve this attitude, but I’m sick of you’, you glare at him with all your might. 'I’m leaving. And you… you can go and fuck yourself’

You start walking away when his voice manages to stop you again.

'The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’

Fuck it. You turn on your heels and hold his gaze.

'You want truth, huh?’ You take a step closer. ‘How about you go deal with your daddy issues. Then we can talk’.

Jungkook’s eyes go wide with indignation. He stammers like his tongue got caught in between his teeth. 'Apologize!’ He manages to bark at you.

You huff. ’You apologize first’. When Jungkook doesn’t say a word. You take it as your cue to finally leave. 'Good night, Jungkook’.

You turn on your heels and leave for good. This time he doesn’t follow you.

That conversation was such a waste of time and energy. As if you have to explain yourself to a complete stranger. How old could he be? 18? 19? You are still his senior by at least four years, who does he think he is to talk to you in banmal and with no honorifics.

You reach the building complex where you live in no time. You notice the weather is actually nice as you take the outdoor stairs to the third floor. The sky is clear and a full moon shines brightly above. You take a moment to appreciate the quietness of the night. If only everything could be as simple as this.

A flash of red and blue paints the building grey walls when a police vehicle rushes pass the street. The echo of its siren brings back more memories from that night.

You are alone next to Geum San’s body. The woman, Ahn Hyejin has passed out in the floor and you try to make her regain consciousness. Your hands are sweaty, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins making your heart race desperately.

‘What are you doing?’

Your brother’s voice halts you out of your thoughts. You must have been so far gone that you missed him opening the door. He is home earlier, you thought he wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow morning. You take a moment to look at him. You try to focus on the silver earrings dangling from his ears, on his messy brown hair, on how much like a little boy he looks with that blue oversized sweater on.

You are home.

‘I was just…’, you gesture vaguely around. ‘you know, admiring the view’.

Taehyung scowls at you and steps back so you can get inside. You take off your shoes the moment you set foot on your apartment and toss them next to the door, not even bothering placing them correctly on the shoe rack.

‘Did you drink?’, he asks. You shrug.

‘Yeah, I had a few beers with Seokjin’, you take of your suit jacket and toss it on the couch on your way to the kitchen. Taehyung follows you.

‘What about work?’

‘Since when do you want to know about my day?’ you eye him through the corner of your eye while you pour yourself a glass of water.

‘Since you just went out to get drunk with a man’. You stop what you are doing and move your gaze to Taehyung.

You don’t like his tone anymore than his posture. His arms crossed over his chest, hands hidden from your view and his head slightly tilted to the side. He’s upset, but he’s holding something back. Still, you really don’t want to deal with whatever this is right now. You are exhausted and your bed is calling for you.

‘First of all, I’m not drunk’, you walk out of the kitchen and head for you room without looking his way. ‘Second, what I do with my time is my business not yours’.

You hear him let out a sarcastic laugh.‘You’re such an hypocrite, Y/N…’

That leaves you stone cold. You slowly turn around and give him a questioning look. Where the hell is all this attitude coming from? ‘What did you say?’

Taehyung shuffles his weight from one feet to another and shakes his head in disapproval.

‘You told me you couldn’t come with me to visit mom because you were busy with work!’, he snaps. ‘Does your work include having a few beers with some dude now?!’

‘Oh my God I was with Seokjin, Taehyung! Not some dude! What the hell?!’, you shout back. You just can’t believe this. What a fucking day you’ve had. ‘Listen, I was already yelled at tonight by a bratty teenager for my life choices, I’m not going to stay hear and listen to another one’.

You motion to open the door, but Taehyung’s words stops you again. He’s clearly not going to let this die tonight. ‘Yeah, it’s not like you listen to me anyway!’ You take a deep breath.

You head has begun to hurt. ‘Can’t we not do this now?’, you plead.

Taehyung growls in frustration, smacking his hands on his thighs. He paces around the hallway like he’s trying to collect his thoughts, but finally gives up.His eyes meet yours and you can no longer see anger in his features. His lips are slightly tugged down, and his brow is furrowed. 'Why are you like this, noona?’

‘Like what?’

He takes a step closer. ‘Tell me something’, his tone is calmer than before. ‘When was the last time you visited our mother in that horrid place you put her in, huh?. A sharp pain pierces through your temples and weights heavy around your left eye.

‘I don’t have to explain myself to you, Taehyung. You know damn well that it wasn’t my decision alone, and frankly I don’t know where the fuck is this coming from..’, He simply stares back at you, not saying a word. ‘All because I didn’t skip my job, which by the way is paying for your tuition, to get on a fucking train to Daegu and visit a sick woman that can’t even recognize her own daughter’s face?!’

You feel something warm going down your cheek so you bring up a hand to inspect. The tips of your fingers get wet and you realize you are crying. Another twinge of pain drills into your head and you close your eyes to take a deep breath.

Taehyung calls your name but you raise a hand on the air to stop him from coming any closer. ‘Just leave me alone…’, you manage to utter before disappearing inside your bedroom. You kick the door close behind you and let yourself fall on the bed.

You don’t even bother to change your clothes. It’s like your head is going to explode in pieces if you do as much as moving your feet.

You don’t want to think about your mother.

You don’t want to think about all those days you spent glued to her hospital bed hoping she would wake up. Hoping you could turn back time and tell her you were fine that day, so that she wouldn’t leave her house to see you. That way the bullet would have never reached her. She would still be the one you remember and not this helpless excuse of a person incapable of control her own sphincters.

It was your fault you mother ended up in such humiliating state. You had no right to visit her, you couldn’t even gather the courage to admit to yourself how much you missed her scent. The mother you knew is dead, you killed her too.

Like you killed Geum San.

Who is going to be your next victim?

Your alarm goes off at six just like every other day. Your headache is gone, but it threatens to surface again when you remember you are off duty for the next seven days.

What are you supposed to do with all this free time? You could barely manage to keep it together when you were busy with cases, now they’ve taken away the only thing that gives your life a sense of purpose.

You shift uncomfortable between your sheets and doze off another two hours until you hear someone opens your door.

‘Why are you still in bed? Is thursday’

You groan and turn around on the bed to face away from him. ‘Leave me alone, Taehyung’

‘What is wrong with you?’

You take a deep breath and decide to get up. This was going to happen sooner or later, your brother would get curious at why you, a workaholic, was skipping work.

Taehyung is ready for his classes. His hair’s still wet from the shower and you can smell his cologne all the way from there. He stares at you like he’s a judge and is waiting for you to present your first witness.

‘I’m suspended’.

He blinks. For a second you doubt if he actually heard you. It takes him a moment, but he reacts.

‘What?’

‘I said I was-’

‘No, that I get.’, he steps inside and takes a seat next to you in the bed. ‘What I don’t get is why. Did something happened?’. Now he looks genuinely concerned.

You shake your head.

‘I just got this letter saying I should take a few days off for my health’.

‘Why…? What’s wrong? Are you sick?’

‘No, I’m- I’m fine…’

‘Is this because that guy you killed?’, Your faces gives you away. He presses his lips together and gives you a little disapproving look. ‘Why are you like this?’

'Like what?’ Taehyung rolls his eyes.

'That guy was a criminal. You did this world a favor, Y/N’.

‘Maybe…’, You sigh. ‘Aish… This world is fucked up’. Taehyung nods in agreement. ‘It’s just…’, your brother looks at you and you can see the concern in his brown eyes ‘I always thought it would be much simpler, you know’

'What would?’

'To kill a somebody’.Taehyung doesn’t say a word. You run a hand through your mess of a hair and sigh. ‘I’m going back to bed, be good…’, Taehyung clicks his tongue with a look of disapproval in his eyes. You roll your eyes ‘What is it now?’

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. But look at you…!’, he shakes his head. ‘You’re beating yourself up over a worthless criminal! He was a beast who needed to be put down. He deserved worse that what you gave him. Have you forgotten what he did to those little girls? Their families are now seeing you as their heroine. You brought justice and closure to their lives… Why is it that is stopping you from seeing the reality of things?’

The reality of things?

You raise both eyebrows. The reality of things was that you had shot a person to death. Period.

‘Killing a killer has never actually reduced the number of killers in this world, has it?’, you say back

Taehyung’s eyes narrow with a vexed expression and then he looks away.

‘Then it’s easy…’, he stands up and walks to the door. ‘You’ll have to kill another one. Don’t you, noona?’.

Your stomach ties in knots.

Killing was wrong, it didn’t matter whether the victim was a heinous criminal or a charitable soul. If one person started taking justice by its own hands, what could stop everyone else to start doing the same thing? It would be madness and chaos. After all, what was justice but a polite term people used when what they actually meant was vengeance.

A terrifying thought send shivers down your spine. Was vengeance something your brother has in mind? You look up at him, but you are unable to find your words. So when no sound comes out, Taehyung lets himself out shutting the door closed behind him.

You react a moment too late. He’s already left the apartment when your phone starts ringing. You grab it from the night stand where you left it.

You are surprise by seeing Chief Jeon’s name on the screen, and press the green button immediately. You’ll deal with Taehyung later.

‘Morning, sir. To what do I owe your call?’

‘I know Bang got you suspended you from the field, Y/N. But I need you to come to the precinct now’.

‘Why? What happened?’.

‘I have not time to explain it by phone. Just get here’, and he hangs up.

Sometimes you forget how much you hate public transportation. Being stuffed inside a worm-looking wagon, with people’s elbows or suitcases piercing your sides that morning reminds you just that. Being suspended meant you can’t drive the station vehicles either, and you’d never really bother buying a car of your own… which you are very much regretting now. This is the only way you have left to move around the city. And since your boss decided to call for you right before the rush hour started, getting there on time in a cab would’ve been like expecting snow in this humid summer. You can’t do anything but endure the ride until you finally reach the Gangnam station.

The streets are flooded with people as you step out of the little crystal dome that covers the entryway to the underground station. The sky is cloudy and the air holds certain humidity that makes you wonder if it is going to rain anytime soon. The walk to the precinct is just fifteen minutes, but that’s all it takes for a thin layer of sweat to cover your forehead by the time you reach the main building.

You can feel the fabric of your blouse sticking to your sides. However, the moment you step inside the facility the familiar smell of stale coffee and rusty cooper desks makes all the discomforts disappear. Your heart jumps with excitement. Even if you are not officially back, having something to do with your morning that involves police work is such a relief.

Being busy keeps your mind from thinking nonsense. Being busy is a good thing.

You stroll pass the desk captain’s booth and give him the mandatory greeting, you don’t bother bowing all the way down for this man. Considering that among the people you can’t call your fans, captain Lee Sunho takes very much the first place. You have all the intention to walk past him without any trouble, but deep down you know you’re never that lucky. He eyes you suspiciously and motions you to come closer with one finger like you are some stray dog.

You’ve hated his condescending attitude towards you and all the the female officers since your first day at the precinct and when he’d asked you to fetch him coffee from the shop across the street. The innocent you from back then genuinely though he had mistaken you for a new secretary since he’d never seen you before, so you kindly explained to him you were the new addition to the CSI department. “That’s great, doll. So about that coffee, I take mine with two sugars and no cream. I’ll be in the meeting room”, was his reply and you were this close to punch him in the face. Luckily for him, Seokjin appeared to scoot you away before you had a chance to reply.

‘Last time I checked you were suspended. What are you doing here, Y/N?’ he asks, one eyebrow raised and his nose scrunched. The classic contempt gesture. He can’t hide it and you don’t blame him. He doesn’t have the brains to understand the body language, let alone control it.

‘Well, last time I checked we weren’t on first names terms, officer Lee’, you fake smile, poorly enough so he can notice. The scowl in his face deepens and you smirk, pleased. ‘Besides, I don’t report to you. Good day’.

You are about to walk away when his hand reaches for your arm and yanks you back. Your hip hits the corner of the metal desk and you have to place a quick hand on it to hold your weight. Otherwise Sunho would have likely smashed you against the glass-covered surface.

‘I’m not having a good day so I recommend you apologise to me right now before I make you’ he speaks but it sounds more like a hiss. His teeth gritted. His fingers curl around your bicep, hard enough to leave a mark. And you swear you are about to make him wear his tongue as a tie until a familiar voice calls your name.

‘Y/N!’, you hear Seokjin’s voice and your head turns in his direction. He approaches the desk and Sunho lets go of your arm in a hurry.

Still, Seokjin shoots him a glare, he probably noticed. But instead of getting physical like you would, your partner simply places a protective hand on your back and motions you to follow him. ‘Come, the chief is waiting for you’.

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Sunho’s lips. ‘…Like always the prince is here to rescue his wench’, you hear him clearly and Seokjin does too. His eyebrows knit together in a frown and you clench your fists so hard your nails bit into the skin of your palm. However, Seokjin manages to make you walk away with him, leaving Sunho behind with his spiteful comments.

‘I swear, Jin…’, you take a deep breath, ‘One of these days I’m- I will kick his tiny balls so up his throat he will end up looking like a goddamn rooster’.

Seokjin snorts, covering his mouth with one hand at you foul language.

‘Jesus christ, Y/N…’, he laughs and shakes his head.

‘I mean it. He’s such an asshole’.

‘Just ignore the idiot, he’s not worth it’, Seokjin waves a hand in dismissal. ‘He’s like that to everyone and the only reason he’s still working here is because he’s with the syndicate. Not even Seulgi likes him and she likes you’.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. He has a point, though. You don’t really have friends here apart from Seokjin—and maybe, just maybe chief Jeon. Still, doesn’t feel right to think of him as your friend, the chief is more like a mentor-figure. And considering how good his son and you hit it off, well…

You sigh. At least you have Jin.

‘I don’t think I can ignore someone who’s constantly trying to put me down like I’m less of a person than he is just because I’m a woman’.

‘What do you want me to say, Y/N?’, Jin presses his lips together and shrugs. ‘You don’t need to ask me for permission if you want to hit Sunho in the face. He probably deserves it, but he’s not going to change. He would only have more reasons to hate you’

Yes, he would. You scoff bitterly. Seokjin is right, as always.

You take a look at his side profile as you two keep walking down the corridor to the chief’s office. He’s always been a handsome man, and more than once you’ve jokingly blame him for the hate you receive from the other female employees. ‘You are your stupid handsome face is the reason why I can’t make friends with the girls here’, you would say and he would laugh every time, giving you a cheeky smile. ‘So you think I’m handsome?’.

He displays some signs of narcissistic behavior, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. You wouldn’t be able to get along if he was a real narcissistic like the desk captain. He’s just confident in himself, and why wouldn’t he be? The smooth and clear skin of his face doesn’t hold a single scar from teenage acne like most of the men here, and he’s always impeccable groomed. The only times you’ve Seokjin disheveled is when he’s drunk, like last night. Which reminds you… He’d said some strange things while you said your goodbyes.

‘Why are you squinting at me?’, Seokjin catches your eye for a moment, but you don’t look away.

‘I’m just thinking…’

‘About what? Me?’, A flirtatious smile tugs at his lips and he chuckles with false modesty. That manages to make you laugh and you turn away, nodding. ‘What- really?!’.

You don’t understand why he sounds so surprised.

‘I’m thinking about how the hell do you manage to look so refreshed today. You were sleep on the table last night after all that soju I had to carry your drunk ass to the cab, remember?’.

He huffs, his lips puckered.

‘I wasn’t that drunk, you didn’t have to carry me’

‘Also… ’, you’re not sure how to bring the subject up. Normally, you would just brush it off and ignore it. Like it never happened. Seokjin probably didn’t meant anything by it and it was just another joke. Yet, you find yourself in need for a confirmation. It’s that brats fault, he managed to get into your head after all and now is making you questioning the nature of your association with Seokjin. ‘You said something funny’.

He doesn’t get it.

‘I’m always funny’, he replies.

You bite your lip and shake your head.

‘Not as in funny-funny, more like weird-funny’, Seokjin cocks his head to the side, surely confused by your wording choice.

‘What did I say?’

‘You said…’, should you say it? What if he doesn’t remember? What if you make things weird?, ‘You said- um… that yesterday… it’s nothing’

You can’t bring yourself to speak, but it’s too late. You have Seokjin worried and he stops his tracks to turn around and look at you, making you come to an abrupt halt against his chest. ��Shit-’, you mutter. The smell of his after-shave cologne surrounds you like a cloud and his hands come to rest on your shoulders to steady you.

‘Sorry, are you okay?’,

‘Yes, I’m fine… Just nevermind’, you step back holding your bumped nose with one hand and waving the other in a dismissal gesture. You weren’t expecting Jin’s chest to be that hard, did he actually work out behind your back? He was always complaining he didn’t have enough time to hit the gym. ‘Do you have any idea why the chief called us here? You, I get it. But I mean, I’m still suspended’

Seokjin follows you suspiciously quick, was he hoping for a change of subject?, you wonder are you eye him carefully before motion him to resume the walk. The chief’s office’s door is a few feet away, you’re basically there already.

‘Actually no, I’m also just arriving…’, He replies as you come to a stop in front of the wooden door. A golden plate hangs next to it and reads the chief’s full name and title. ‘Though he did sound a little… worried. Do you think something happened?’.

‘It better have, otherwise it’s going to be a boring morning’, you reply and hear Seokjin’s chuckle behind you.

You reach for the door handle and push it open.

A strange quietness surrounds the room, and you notice something is off the moment your eyes land on chief Jeon’s face. He’s sitting by the window, light pouring over his neatly combed grey hair. His thick eyebrows furrowed, deep creases form on his forehead as he stares at the papers scattered across the wooden table in front of him. Standing next to the chief is sergeant Ho. she’s wearing and an impeccable black suit that wraps beautifully around her curves, her bleached blond hair tied up in a ponytail. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her is gaze lost somewhere between the marbled floor and her own thoughts.

But just as you steps inside, she acknowledges your presence. Her chin shoots up and you are welcomed by an all-familiar scowl.

Sergeant Ho Hyunju is yours and Seokjin’s direct superior. You’ve earned yourself a place in her naughty list long ago during a case you would rather cross out of your resume. A boy was being held hostage by his stepmother. You had her cornered in the backyard, and she was pointing a loaded gun at his head. Her hand were shaking too much for her to be able to pull the trigger, that’s why you decided to step in and taunt her into killing the hostage until she was crying and pointed the gun at you. You easily disarmed her after that and the boy was brought into safety by the other officers. However, Sergeant Ho almost suspended you that time because she thought you were being reckless ‘and could’ve had that boy killed, for heaven’s sake!’. You tried to explain her you reasoning, you tried to show her that the woman wasn’t going to fulfill her threat anyway. But she didn’t listen.

You got off only with a warning thanks to chief Jeon. that was a year ago and still she doesn’t approve of your ‘wild’ behaviour, even when you and Seokjin have the best arrest record in the precinct.

That’s when you realize, whatever this is, she doesn’t want you to be there.

It only serves to spark your curiosity even more.

The chief greets you and your partner, and then gestures you to take a seat at the meeting table. Sergeant Ho sit down next to the chief, you and Seokjin sit on the opposite side so you can all face each other.

‘Thanks for coming in such short notice, detectives’, sergeant Ho speaks, her red lips pursed in a thin line.

‘I assume this is not a social call, or there’d coffee’, Seokjin jokes, trying to ease the tension that has suddenly built up inside the room. No one laughs, sergeant Ho’s scowl shifts to him now and you can see Jin glup. The bob of his adam’s apple manages to distract you for a brief second and the the chief clears his throat.

‘I asked you two here because you are my best team, and despite y/n here being suspended’, the chief signals to you with an open hand as he glances briefly at sergeant Ho. ‘There’s no denying she is the best profiler we’ve got’.

‘What is this about, sir?’, You ask.

With a waving gesture, the chief signals something to Sergeant Ho. She then proceeds to slides a paper across the table to you. You manage to take a look at its content before Seokjin grabs it.

It’s a list of names.

‘Last week seven dangerous criminals at the Myangdo Penitentiary died from heart attacks’, Sergeant Ho explains. ‘The autopsies didn’t show traces of poison or something else that might have explained the sudden deaths. The last medical exams showed they were all as healthy as one can be in prison. There’s nothing on security footage either, they weren’t attacked. Between 7:20 and 7:22 pm last wednesday each one of them collapsed to the floor. Dead’.

You frown and gesture Seokjin to hand you the list.

‘How can that happen?’, you ask, your eyes are quickly to escan the seven names. Two of them you remember from previous cases.

‘That’s the thing. We don’t know, no one does’. The chief replies.

‘That’s insane’, Seokjin brings his thumb and forefinger to massage his temples. ‘How can seven people die simultaneously without a cause?’

‘Wait’, you place a hand on the table and glance up to your superiors. ‘If this is happened last week why are we holding a meeting now?’

‘Because it happened again, yesterday’.

‘Yesterday was wednesday too’, you are quick to realize. The chief nods. ‘How many died?’

‘Seven, again’, Sergeant Ho replies handing you another list of names. ‘Fourteen dead and that’s only the ones we know about’.

Seokjin examines the list with a thoughtful frown.‘You think there’s more?’

‘We asked the main office to check with other stations. We’re waiting to hear back from them, but they find the situation hilarious’. Sergeant Ho explains. She drums her fingernails on the table, a disappointed gesture takes over her features for a microsecond before falling back to her stoic resting face. ‘Who cares about criminals dying, that’s what they said’.

‘I don’t know why, don’t know how…’, the chief takes a deep breath and takes off his glasses. ‘But this deaths are not a coincidence. Something- someone is killing this men and I have the feeling there’ll be more deaths. So unless we gather some proof, we can’t present it as a case to the captain let alone the director’.

‘Criminals or not, murder is murder’, sergeant Ho adds, and her gaze turns to you ‘I’m sure this is something we can all agree on’.

‘It is, ma’am’, Seokjin beats you for a second, determination shining in his brown eyes. You can’t help the half smile that tugs at your lips.

‘So, Y/N. This is where you fit in’, the chief says as Sergeant Ho takes a thick blue folder fromㅡwhat you assume isㅡher bag, and hands it to you.

‘Here’s all we’ve gathered about the victims’, she explains. Calling then victims doesn’t seem right, but if the chief is right that’s what they would be. ‘Police records, inmate files from the penitentiary, and some personal information, family, education, work’.

‘There’s gotta be a connection between those men, and I need you to find it. Since you’re our of duty it would be best if you work from home’, chief Jeon says. You take the folder in your hands and acknowledge the command.

‘Yes, sir’

‘What should we do in the meantime?’, Seokjin asks, eager to get involved as well.

‘You and sergeant Ho will head for the Myangdo Penitentiary to question the guards on duty. An appointment has been made already. And I’m going to the Archive, Kang-ssi agreed to help already to find something that might resembles this MO in out files. We meet with the director in two days, work hard’.

With all decided, the chief dismisses the reunion and you part your separated ways. Seokjin sees you to the door and helps you catch a cab. You thank him and give one final bow to sergeant Ho. Each one of you has a mission to fulfill and you are more than eager to dive into yours.

In the following days you receive a call from the chief again. He wants to know if you found anything relevant for today’s meeting and you’re pleased to give him the good knews. You’ve managed to establish two factors that connect the fourteen men: the first thing is that they are all convicted on murder or manslaughter charges. The second, their charges were publicly broadcasted on the news.

But your research didn’t end there. All over the internet there was talking about criminals around the world dropping dead in the streets for no apparent reason. And again, most of them were either accused of murder, rape or other heinous crimes.

One particular post stuck with you.

In Japan during an hostage situation involving a daycare center, the criminal Kurou Otoharada was said to kill himself by jumping from the rooftop even after the authorities had agreed to comply with his demands. It was odd considering he commited suicide and didn’t just died struck by heart failure like the others. His behaviour was suicidal from the beginning, but for your reason you found yourself headed to the National Archives to check the press from the last month and have a better insight into Otoharada’s story.

You didn’t get much, your japanese has never been the best, unlike your brother’s. From what you could gather he basically had died while live in TV, his identity had been publicly displayed like the others. But before him… there was nothing else. And yesterday, another criminal added up to the growing numbers.

The chief sounds pleased with your findings and encourages you to arrive on time for the meeting.

Foolish you thought it was going to be just the four of you and captain Bang. Much to your dismay when you arrive at the office, you realize the chief decided to gather the whole division for this.

As if suspension isn’t enough of a punishment, you have to endure a meeting with over a dozen men, in a narrow room that smells like cigarettes and cheap aftershave. Not to mention that Alain Delon perfume that is like the distinguishing mark of men in the force despite the age, apparently. You find Seokjin among the crowd and decide to stick closer to him, his is the only smell you can stand right now.

On top of that, the chief has barely begin to explain the situation when a particular spiteful comment against the deaths has all them yelling and insulting each other’s’ guts. Almost at the same time.

You catch sergeant Ho’s exasperated gaze across the room. Apart from you she’s the only woman in the room and by the look in her eyes she’s about to slit someone’s throat. Her mind is probably entertaining the same thought you have: Perhaps, apart from Seokjin and Chief Jeon, there were no men in this room but barking dogs.

Maybe if you weren’t in a division where nearly the one-hundred percent of the officers were men, things might be a little different and a dialogue could surface among this peacock fight.

‘All of the victims are criminals. Either being pursued by the police or already behind bars’, another intervention in the debate pulls you out of your thoughts. It’s Seokjin. He’s probably trying to push some sense in this mess. ‘We can assume that more wanted criminals, whose whereabouts are unknown, have died as well. In which case the death toll could be reaching a hundred’

‘I still don’t understand why are we opening an investigation for criminals, captain?’, you hear Detective Jung Dongil speak. He’s past his forty, whites mingled in his black hair, and his nose stands out from his face like a ships’ sail. Captain Bang barely looks at him. He’s been dozing off in his chair since the meeting began. ‘It’s a waste of resources in my opinion’.

‘Then it’s a good thing no one asked for you opinion, Dongil’, replies another and the shouting resumes for another round until sergeant Ho finally has enough of this.

She slams her palms against the wooden surface of the meeting table. ‘Are you gentlemen or a bunch of cattle?! We are discussing a real threat here so I recommend you keep your personal ego debates to yourselves!’.

‘Sergeant Ho is right’, the chief speaks from the head of the table opposite to the captain. ‘This has gone loud enough and you gentleman haven’t heard any of the facts yet and-’.

‘You want to call criminals victims and want to prosecute a ghost’, the nasal voice of supervisor Han chimes in, interrupting him. His small eyes shooting daggers at sergeant Ho who’s still standing at the edge of the table next to the chief. You clench your fists below the table, the chief has made you promise not to intervene today since you are technically not allowed to be there. Still, you are part of the investigation. ‘If you want to keep this nonsense be my guest, but I can’t and won’t ask my men to follow’.

‘People are dying, sir. Someone is killing them’, sergeant Ho replies.

‘Not people. Criminals, sergeant’. There’s a condescending smirk on his face as he eyes the sergeant.

'B-but is it really that bad, boss?’, a young officer officer next to the supervisor addresses sergeant Ho. His tone more conciliatory than judgmental and you notices how he tries to shrink himself into his chair when the sergeant’s eyes land on him. ‘The v-victims were all criminals who deserved the capital punishment several times over, weren’t they?’

'Violent criminal or death row inmate, Yugyeom, if someone kills them it is murder’ Sergeant Ho replies. The young man nods and scribbles something down in his notepad.

'But has it been verified that is murder?’ Dongil asks.

'How could over a hundred heart attacks be a coincidence?’, Seokjin huffs. ‘Of course is murder!’

'Is it?’, for the first time captain Bang intervenes. He eyes Seokjin with a wary look and your partner stiffens. ‘Who could possibly murder that many people over a such a wide area virtually simultaneously, detective Kim?’

‘I- I mean… the thing is, sir- we’ Seokjin can’t reply. He never stammers, and you watch him incredulous as he starts fidgeting with his pen.

'Maybe this is a carefully orchestrated mass assassination carried out by a large organization, wouldn’t you agree, detective?’ Dongil says, with a mock painted across his face.

You roll your eyes. This is getting worse each second, and you are desperate to speak your mind, if only this men would listen to you.

There is something that still feels funny about the records. You can be wrong, though. But from what you’ve gathered so far, the larger amount of victims are concentrated in Seoul. You thought about mention it to the chief in your report, but by the concerned look on his face when this all began, he’s most likely noticed already.

'You gentlemen are missing the real issue here and I might understand Jeon’s concerns’, says captain Bang with his usual bored tone. He eyes the chief with clear contempt as he raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth again. ‘With so many criminals dying like that, what can be said of our pride as police, that’s what worried you, isn’t it?’

And that is it for you. You can’t handle the disrespect anymore. Your right hand slams against the table mimicking sergeant Ho’s intervention before. The thud reverberates through the entire office. You stand up. The room full of noisy men is suddenly silenced as they all turn to look at you.

'This is not a matter of pride, captain’.

'Y/N, don’t-’, the chief hushes you, shaking his head as to remind you you are being inappropriate.

You ignore him and address the entire table this time.

'This is not about pride or reputation. This is a question of justice and if you gentlemen can’t see this, if you think murder is okay because the victims are criminals you are not worthy of wearing your badge’. The table remains silence as to waiting for the captain to scold you. But he doesn’t. He looks at you over his glasses, like he’s hoping you elaborate what you just said. ‘…A man who kills another is a murderer, whether the victim deserved it or not. Period. Our job is to find whoever is responsible for this and prosecute him according to the law’, you say and for a moment your eyes meet the chief’s. Whispers flood the room. Your heart beats aggressively against your chest and you can feel your legs start to tremble.

'So what this woman is saying is that we should believe that it is possible to give other people heart attacks?’, Dongil speaks up again. The same mockery in his face from when he tried to embarrass Seokjin. ‘Please… That’s illogical! These deaths are a coincidence, that is the only reasonable explanation’.

You are not letting him off that easily.

'Perhaps for you, detective, and your narrow little mind it is’, you reply. Dongil’s face turns bright red as he glares at you.

'How dare you talk to your elder like that?!’ he barks. You roll your eyes.

'Heart failure is predominantly caused by cardiovascular diseases or hypertension. However, in some people it can be attributed to the cardiotoxic effect of a particular drug.’, your eyes find Dongil’s. He’s shooting daggers at you. ‘So it is, indeed, possible to give people heart attacks… sunbaenim’

'Spare me the science lesson, woman! You can’t track down a murderer when the cause of death is heart attack!’, he spits back. 'If they had a knife sticking out of them it would be different thing!’

'Every criminal who’d died had his identity publicly broadcasted either on the internet or in the news. Anyone who’d saw who they were could be the killer!’, you add, looking at the conflicted faces scattered around the table. ‘It has to be possible for someone to kill like this, it must’

You hear Dongil scoff. 'That’s just speculation!’

'No, sir. That is a fact’. Dongil doesn’t give you an answer, though you swear he mutters “bitch” between his teeth as he sits back down.

Captain Bang lets out a loud sigh and waves his hand as to ask you to sit down as well. You are not satisfied yet, there’s more you would like to say. But for now, you decide to obey your captain. 'How about putting it to a vote?’, he suggest, he looks tired and annoyed.

‘If I may speak…’, a deep voice from the back of the room suddendly steals the badged collective’s attention. There’s a man standing next to the door that wasn’t there before. He’s dressed all in black, a leather briefcase hangs from his left hand. He’s pale, and young–maybe seokjin’s age or younger. You can’t really tell by the way his fringe covers his eyes. Before someone has a chance to question him, he opens his mouth again.‘I have a message for captain Bang of the Gangnam police from RM’.

The room goes silent again for an instant, followed by a wave of murmurs.

'RM?’, you turn towards Jin who’s wearing the same perplexed expression you must have. ‘As in the RM? The faceless man?’

Nobody knows RM’s real name, or whereabouts or even how he looks like. The first time you’ve ever heard that name was back at the academy. You had signed for a forensic psychology course, and the professor talked often about the mysterious detective RM who could to solve any case no matter what it was. But it wasn’t until you joined the police formally that you really got acquainted with the stories about RM’s cases. He never showed his face, but people seemed to be sure he was a man. His first famous case was back on the 2000’s, about serial bombings in England, so perhaps he was english… but again, nobody knew.

‘We didn’t ask for his involvement’, says the captain.

The man nods. 'Yes, but… The truth is that RM’s been investigating this case for a few days now, it has picked his interest and he’s decided to aid the police in the case’, he explains. He has a calming voice that seem to dissuade the men from protesting against his presence.

‘Who are you, boy?’, Dongil asks.

‘You can address me as Agust, I’ll be RM proxy I look forward to working with you’. He bends down to withdraw a laptop from his briefcase and sets it up in the middle of the table without waiting for permission. Nobody stops him. 'Now please, if you all would keep your tongues to yourself it’d be appreciated. You will now hear RM speak’

The screen lights up with two capital letters in bright green RM over a black background.

’Good afternoon, this is RM’, a high-pitched scrambled voice greets the room. You figure he must be using a filter since it doesn’t sound too mechanical. ’The case before us is unprecedented in scope and difficulty. And is a monstrous case of mass murder that must be stopped at all cost. In order to solve it I request the full cooperation of the Police force. These mysterious deaths are a worldwide phenomenon, but the most deaths as registered in korean soil. Whoever is doing this it’s safe to assume he’s korean. I think I will be able to share with you my theories very soon in a direct confrontation with the killer…Thank you, that would be all for now. You’ll hear of me soon enough’.

After the broadcast ends, Agust doesn’t say anything else. He just packs his things and leaves the room in a silent chaos.

The meeting room cleared an hour ago, but you remain there going over what RM said. He seemed convinced there was only one killer and that he was male. You’ve already figured out he must be korean considering the amount of deaths pilling up in the city’s public records. You can’t help but replay your last conversation with Taehyung.

‘Killing a killer has never actually reduced the number of killers in this world, has it?’

‘Then it’s easy… You’ll have to kill another one’.

You wonder if your brother would ever approve of this. Whoever is having those criminals killed, if it as single person, then it has to be a psychotic fool. His actions: killing so many criminals all over the world, speak of a person who is not doing this for some personal agenda but for the delusion of a greater good. You wonder what kind of thoughts cross his mind. If there are no more criminals, would the world be safer? Would it be fairer? That is not the way the world behaves, and you know it. But clearly he doesn’t.

‘You still here?’.You raise you head to meet Seokjin’s gaze. He’s standing by the door, hands tucked inside his pockets.

‘Looks like it’, Seokjin smirks and walks over to sit next to you.

He stays silence for a moment, but you can tell there’s something in his mind by the way he keeps running his fingers through his fringe only to brush it back into place. For an instant you worry he might bring up you awkward conversation from the past thursday. You never really got to tell him what happened, and he didn’t pressure you to speak up until now. You had secretly hoped he’d forgotten about it.

‘Can I ask you something. Y/n?’

‘Sure…’, You brace yourself for the question when he opens his mouth.

‘What do you think about what RM said?’

Ah. You have to fight the sigh of relief that threatens to leave your lips. As always you worry over nothing, and instead of dwelling more into it, you clear your throat.

‘You mean about the killer being just one person?’ you ask and he nods. You lay back on the chair and let out a sigh. ‘I think he’s probably right. These murders were not carried out by an organization. If it’s a group it has to be small…’

Your partner frowns a little. ‘Why?’

'Well… statistically, the more people involved, the less chance of success. I think it responds to the theory of chaos. Do you have a pen?’, Seokjin pats his breast pocket and fishes out a black pen. You take it and tear a piece of paper from the report sergeant Ho handed you. 'Each individual is a variable’ You draw six crosses in two columns, three on each and join them with straight lines. '…and the more variables determine the initial conditions’, you add more crosses and join them with more lines until the drawing looks like a cobweb. 'The more possible different outcomes. Therefore, to have succeed at killing this many people in such a short period of time, the killer must have acted with very few to cero companions’.

'I see’, Seokjin brushes his nether lip with his thumb and takes his time to examine your doodles with a thoughtful frown. 'You are sure of that despite of the fact that is virtually impossible for one person to kill people simultaneously in two different sides of the world?’

You shrug. 'It has to be possible… somehow’.

'Yeah. I think I agree. Otherwise these deaths wouldn’t make sense at all…’, he says, and gives you a half smile you can’t help but reciprocate. 'We’ll see what he has to say when all this “direct confrontation” thing takes place tomorrow’

‘Yeah…’

Seokjin stands up with a heavy sigh, stretching an arm over his shoulder and then the other.

‘You want me to give you a ride? we can go grab a bite’

‘Thanks, but I’m fine’, you shake your head. ‘Besides… I think I’m going to stop by Seulgi’s station before heading home. I’m thinking about asking her help to monitor naver’s forums in case something interesting pops up’.

‘Very well…’, Jin smiles and places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeez. ‘Don’t forget to eat and rest’

You chuckle. ‘Sure thing, mom’

Seokjin gives you an amused smirk over his shoulder and winks before exiting the room.

‘They are calling him Kira now’, you sigh and as you close your laptop. Eyes stinging for having stayed all night at the precinct, monitoring the public naver forums with Seulgi. She’s already gone home, you, on the other hand, stayed for the first official meeting regarding the serial deaths of criminals.

Seokjin next to you only nods.

‘So I heard’.

You are all gathered in the meeting room—chief Jeon, Seokjin, the sergeant Ho, and a couple of officers that willingly asked to join the investigation, senior detective Jung Pilkyeo and his current protegee, rookie officer Kim Yugyeom—waiting for the ‘public confrontation’ RM talked about to happen. His proxy, Agust, sent word to the chief that you all should be watching the national channel around 10 am but gave no other instruction.

‘They are also saying he’s the angel of death, sent by God to punish the evil’, Yugyeom says, eliciting a chuckle from your partner lips.

Detective Jung sighs loudly and shakes his head in disapproval.

‘People can be incredibly superstitious sometimes’, he comments running a hand through his dark locks of hair. He is a handsome man, square chin, wide shoulders and thick eyebrows. You don’t talk much, like you, he isn’t one for social events either so this is the first time you and him have been in the same room for more than an hour.

It didn’t surprise you when you heard he wanted to join the newly-formed task force. From what you’ve read in his reports and the way he handles his cases, Detective Jung’s sense of justice is very similar to yours.

‘How much longer will RM makes us wait?’ sergeant Ho’s voice drags your attention back to the whole table. ‘We need to know his plans if he wants to work with us’.

‘I have the feeling he’s not one for team play, Sergeant’, replies the chief. ‘I guess we’ll have to wait and see. I don’t think Agust would ask us to wait if RM himself hadn’t ask him… In the mean time I want to hear all about this new nickname. You said they were calling him Kira?’

The chief’s gazes falls on you.

‘I think it has to do with the english word ‘killer’, sir. They are also calling him Azrael, like the angel of death in christian lore’, you explain. ‘But Kira is the one nickname that people seem more fond of. It’s alarming the amount of people that support his doings…’

‘He’s offering a machiavellian solution to crime, of course people would support him’ says detective Jung. ‘It would be strange if the didn’t. People tend to find solace in believing there’s a higher power that controls life so they don’t have to worry about facing the cold reality’.

You nod. That’s precisely what you concluded in your assessment with Seulgi.

‘If we can catch him and expose his humanity to the world, then it’s over for him’, you say, ‘People will support a killer God, but won’t support a human murderer’.

‘Am I the only one that finds this terrifying?’, Yugyeom asks from his seat. Again you notice his shy nature, he’s looking down at his lap and tugging at the hairs on his nape. ‘What if he gets angry at us for trying to catch him? What if he kills us?’

The table remains silence. Although Yugyeom is the first to be vocal about his worries, this is something you are sure you all have thought at some point before this began. If he can kill people from the distance, who says he won’t kill people who are against him? But catching the bad guys is your job as policemen, that’s the whole purpose of your badge. To protect innocent people and to bring criminals to justice, and if you are not willing to put your life on the line for what’s right then you can’t call yourself a police officer.

You know some of your colleagues outside this meeting room have other views as to what’s the purpose of their badge. Some of them use it as a privilege, some of the abuse that authority to be as bad as the criminals they put behind bars.

But your thoughts are soon cut by the TV. The screen turned dark blue and the Interpol logo shone over it.

’We interrupt your program to bring you a live broadcast from the International Criminal Police Organization. This is the ICPO to the whole world. Kim Yoonho will provide simultaneous interpretation in Korean’

'Could this be…?’, Seokjin stands up to grab the remote and turn the volume to the highest setting.

The interpol logo disappears and the screen changes into a shoot of a well-dressed man sitting on a red leather armchair.

’My name is Ralph Moore, otherwise known as RM. I am investigating a string of deaths among heinous criminals’, he begins.

The group attention is on this man now. You can’t help but frown as you look at him. Despite of the fact that he does look the way you have imagined RM to be: a man in his mid forties, english and smartly-groomed; you can’t believe him being RM. After who knows how many years hiding his true face, his identity from the world, why would he decide to star in a worldwide broadcast just like that?

There is something that smells fishy about this. He isn’t RM. He can’t be.

'What is happening, sunbaenim?’, you hear Yugyeom’s alarmed tone.

'I- I’m not sure…’ Pilkyeo replies.

’Kira, I have a pretty good idea of why you might want to do something like this. But no matter how brutal the criminals might be, you have no right to judge people. What you are doing is evil and I will do my utmost effort to hunt you down.’ He says. The camera focuses on his face as the broadcast goes on.

This isn’t RM.

His speech sounds too stiff, as if he’s playing out a script.

’Kira, are you watching this?’, he keeps calling him Kira, why? You wonder. Does RM actually believe in that God-punisher theory? Or is this something else? ’How are you killing these people? You may be feeling like God, but from my perspective, you’re just a hopeless, stupid murderer. Stop judging the world by your yardstick. Justice always wins. Kira, I will destroy your childish plans. Do you really think you are needed? Kira, I will send you to the gallows! I will hunt you down! Prepare yourself, Kira…’.

Ralph Moor starts laughing.

Manically.

This man is not RM. Not in a million years.It’s only seconds after that he stops abruptly. His eyes go wide as he clutches his chest. Soon, collapsing on the floor.

The room goes wide-eyed, in a collective gasp.

'Dear God…!’, the chief exclaims.

Your mouth falls open, your heart beating hard against your chest is almost painful. Did he…? Is he…? A heart attack? Can this be a coincidence or was this man actually killed without direct contact? But that’s just impossible… right?

The broadcast doesn’t stop, though. The camera y showing the man lying limp against the armchair, his eyes bulging out of his sockets.

Dead.

This person is dead, Kira killed him.

'W-what just happened?’, Seokjin asks, his tone falter. 'Is he…? d-did he die?’

'This is sickening…’, Detective Jung’s face contours in disgust and looks away from the screen.

‘Chief, look!’, this time is sergeant Ho who points to the small tv plugged on the table.

The screen turns black and a two letters in green appear on the middle of the screen.

RM.

’I can’t believe this, Kira…’ a familiar scrambled voice speaks. ’You can actually kill someone without direct contact? The Ralph Moore you saw on the broadcast today was a convict due to be executed today. In other words, a stand-in for me.’

'I knew it’, you mutter to yourself.

’Kira, if you don’t like it, try to kill me again…” he states. Nothing happens, though. “Go on, do it! What’s wrong? Can’t do it?’.

‘What is he doing? Is he trying to get himself killed for real?!’, sergeant Ho exclaims. The chief doesn’t seems capable to give her an answer, his eyes glued to the screen.

A few seconds pass. Nothing has happened yet.

’I see…’ RM speaks again. ‘So there are people you can’t kill, it seems. Oh, one more thing. I said the broadcast was going live to the whole world but it’s actually only being broadcasted in Seoul. I’d planned to broadcast it in other regions after some time had passed but there is no need for that now. After all, you’re in Seoul, aren’t you, Kira?’

'Oh my God!’, Yugyeom’s face drains of color and you notices his hands start to shake. He looks like he is about to cry, poor boy.

He must be terrified. You are all terrified.

’But that is no reason to just give up and turn yourself in just yet. You are going to be found and your method of killing exposed… by me. Remember that’.

And just like that the transmission ends.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, ALYX! You’ve been accepted for the role of VIOLA. Admin Rosey: As we all know -- I am a Viola stan first and a human being second. And a Phoebe Tonkin stan third. But that’s beside the point. Viola is a character who is highly complex because of all the moving gears and pieces that she had going on; deception, familial obligation, honor, and heart. She’s a self-made woman and it’s difficult to capture the voice and methodology of a character like that -- but Alyx, you have truly outdone yourself and capture her perfectly. She’s a catalyst and I can’t wait to see what chaos will come undone at her touch. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Alyx

Age | 20

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | Pretty active! I’m out of school for the Summer and I have yet to find a Summer job so I’ll be around whenever you need me. I will be going out of town for one week in June but even then I’ll have my laptop so I can still rp and keep in touch with the players.

Timezone | CST

How did you find the rp?  | Honestly I’ve known about it since its first release. I planned on applying the first time around but I just never felt a serious connection with any of the characters. Now, I was reminded of it when Rosie reblogged a character bio and honestly I was hooked after that.

Current/Past RP Accounts | https://camillepaol.tumblr.com/ and https://emiliadelacroix.tumblr.com/ are my most recent ones.

In Character

Character | Viola

Valentina- “Healthy, strong”

→She prided herself on being strong. At first, it was a means of survival. Toughen up, or you’ll die another nameless kid in the streets. She kept her chin up. She kept her mind sharp. She knew she needed to know the streets of Verona better than the people that built it if she wanted to live to fight another day. Then, it became more of a pride thing. She had made it through the first few years without her parents. She and her brother were still alive. She couldn’t crash now, or else the life she worked hard for might fall apart before her very eyes. She prided herself on being the strong one, the fighter of the duo, and she didn’t plan on changing that. Finally, it felt easy being strong. No tears were shed over meaningless things. No thoughts of giving up after a failed con job. She was told that she needed to break the world or the world would break her, so she any opportunity life threw in her direction and she ran with it. Working for the Montagues was just the peak for her. A purpose, a reason to fight, people to fight for. Yes, there was no doubt in her mind that her strength had gotten her further than any doubt or crying could have.

Persephone- “Queen of the Underworld”

→ She was too young to remember her middle name, so she chose one for herself. Queen of the Underworld, Goddess of Death and Spring. She felt that the name suited her as well as it suited the Greek figure the name originated from. She wasn’t that young girl that ran around picking flowers. She wasn’t naïve enough to think the world was a kind and good place. No, that mentality was lost the moment her parents abandoned her and her brother. That mentality brought on the girl she is today. The woman who calls the night her home. The woman who would walk through Hell to protect her brother. The woman who is locked in a dance with death itself, yet somehow always comes out on top. She was no maiden. She wasn’t as pretty and fragile like the flowers that represent Spring. No, she was the inevitable. She was a queen in the slums she called her home, and she was ready to make people see that she was more than meets the eye.

Gallo- “Family Name”

→ Valentina Gallo. Welcome to this world. Oh, how she wished that’s how her story began. There were days when she wished she had been born into a loving family. She used to be able to picture her brother and her living in a nice house and not having to worry about money or the struggles of growing up. Sadly, that’s not how her story went. There were no Christmas mornings spent around a fire. There were no family meals before school. Her last name didn’t bring about joyous memories, but rather painful reminders of a life that was lost. She had no positive memories of her parents. How could she, knowing how their story ended? How could she think about the good they did when all she truly knows is their absence? Some days she wished she could see them again only to tell them how well she’s been without their presence in her life. Valentina thought about changing her last name. Smith, Erickson, anything to scrub her parent’s burn marks away and allow her a new beginning.  She had even traced the steps form her small hole in the wall to the courthouse to make the switch when something held her back— Santino. It was a symbol of their connection. He was the sun to her moon. He was the Apollo to her Artemis. Two sides of the same coin, she’d give up everything to keep him safe.  Valentina kept going so he would live. She turned colder so that he could keep his light. He was a soft glow of a candle and she’d be damned if someone blew him out. She’d keep the family name, but only because it allowed them to have a connection so deep that only death could shatter it.

What drew you to this character? |

Honestly my usual type of character would be the soft ones with a tragic past, but I always found myself admiring the strong characters as well. There’s something so captivating about a character with a lot of fight and drive in their system, and I definitely felt that in Valentina’s bio. She’s had to fight from a very young age. She never got to be this soft, delicate little girl who got shielded from the bad things in the world. She’s someone who’s known pain and neglect since childhood and it definitely affected her in a lot of ways— even though she would never admit to the fact.

I think I like her because I understand her. I understand her need to fight the world. She’s a girl driven by passion. That passion could be good and help her, such as putting on a good performance to score some money for her and her brother, or that passion could hurt her, such as becoming a double agent for a mob that wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she stepped out of line. I feel like she tends to walk a fine line between the two, but she finds a certain thrill in that risk. She’s one to take chances and hope that it pays off in her favor. She’s someone that will accept any challenge thrown her way. She’s daring, temperamental, ambitious, and just a strong willed woman in this rp.

I know she may not be my strong suit when it comes to characters, but I genuinely feel like I can do her justice. I put my all into developing my characters past their bios and connections, and Valentina will be no exception. Especially since this is such an intricate and involved rp, I have no doubts that I can make our local Montague soldier shine in the way she rightly deserves.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Self: You weren’t born to be soft and quiet.

→ I want her to struggle between her roles. She’s someone who wants more, but more can become too much very quickly. She’s a girl balancing between the Montague soldier that she actually is and the Capulet soldiers she’s pretending to be. At one point, the balance will shift and one side will not be happy with the result. I’m waiting for that day because I feel like it’ll give Valentina a bit of a reality check. She’s someone who believes she could carry the weight of the world on her shoulders and be fine, but the mobs aren’t people to test and she’ll eventually have to learn that lesson.

→ Honestly this one would have to be discussed with the admins and the Santino rper, but I’d think it would be interesting if their parents resurfaced after all of those years. It’s my understanding that they left and didn’t die, so I would love the angst that would come out of the unwelcome reunion. Valentina’s a person who really doesn’t think of her parents with respect or fond memories, but it might be a different story if they were actually face to face with her. Would they be proud of the person she became? Would she care if they were proud? Would she even let them near Santino? All questions that might be answered in due time.

→ I want her to interact with more people. I feel like since she’s playing one side while remaining loyal to another, it could lead to a lot of interesting relationships. I like the thought of her actually being fond of one of the Capulets and being worried because she knows how deep the feud runs and knows people who interact with the enemy don’t last long. I also like the thought of her just getting to know some neutrals and letting the disguises she wears down a little. She’s so caught up in this fight that she often forgets how to breathe, and I feel like a neutral character could teach her how to let go of the breath she’s constantly holding.

Santino: Hell is just another place you’ll go to keep him warm.

→ I want all of the flashbacks from their childhood. They were truly the only thing that kept each other going, so I’d like to explore that dynamic. Go into detail about how they learned to survive on the streets. Explore their first con or first bit of change they snuck out of a man’s pocket. Dive deeper into how they reacted to being abandoned by the people that were supposed to care for them the most. Their upbringing played a bit part in who they are, so let’s take a trip to the past and really get into the mindset of these two street rats.

→ I want something that will tear these two apart. Maybe it’s a betrayal or death, but anything that will drive a wedge between these two siblings. They’ve always been around each other, but what if that weren’t the case? Valentina thinks the world of her brother. Santino loves his sister more than anything. I want to see what will need to happen for that to change. I’m not sure anything will truly turn them against each other, but I do feel like things can happen that will make these two kind of take a step back from their dynamic and explore other relationships.

Ramona: Not yet corpses. Still, we rot.

→ I love these two and would love to explore their dynamic. They’re just so similar, the same soul trapped in two bodies, and I want nothing more than to rp them and their adventures. Valentina’s someone who didn’t grow up around girls and wasn’t used to having female companionship, so I want to explore their first meeting.  They’re like thunder and lightning, a frightening combination, and I want to know if people around them always knew they’d end up that way or if their friendship was a bit of a shock to the Montague crew.

→ I want Ramona to find out about Valentina’s secret. This could be done either by accident or Valentina giving her the information herself. Valentina’s someone who has a “I don’t need anyone’s help” mentality, so I think it would be interesting to see her give in and let someone know what she’s been trying to do. I also want to see how Ramona reacts to it. Would she be impressed? Would she think Valentina has a death wish? Would it be a combination of both? We don’t know. All I do know is that Valentina has to tell someone her secret sooner or later, and I’m hoping Ramona’s the person she’ll ultimately end up confiding in.

Easton:  We were both created in chaos.

→ I feel like these two share some similarities with each other, and that was part of the reason Valentina sees him as a sort of weak link in the Capulet’s armor. They’re both from shattered homes. Valentina, with her abandonment and fighting to feed her and her brother. Easton, from his misplace in his own family. They’re people that could relate to one another, challenge one another and I feel like Valentina will use that as a way to grow close to the boy. If she was lightning, he would be fire, and together they could do some real damage if they were to become allies.

→ This one would definitely need to be agreed upon with the Easton rper, but I can see these two hooking up? Valentina’s trying to get through his defenses and worm her way into the Capulet’s ranks, and I can see her going this route to try to warm him up to her. They’re two people who definitely think highly of themselves, who wish to fight— whether it be their family or the world in general, and we all know passion and anger tend to walk a fine line.

Castora: You would destroy yourself for her.

→ She loves Castora as much as she loves Ramona. The cousins are the closest friends she has, and Castora definitely has a soft spot in her heart. Valentina knows the girl’s take on love and she finds it interesting. Valetina’s a girl full of passion, a girl that would go to the ends of the earth for those few people she holds dear, so Castora’s just an enigma to her. I like to play more on their opposite feelings. Do they ever get into arguments? Does Castora’s closed off heart ever affect Valentina? Castora’s not cold, but Valentina knows that her mother affected her in a way that was quite opposite to Valentina and her parents. I just think this pairing is interesting and I want to explore their dynamic even more than the biographies have.

Halcyon: You do bad things in order to survive.

→I would love for Valentina to manage to sneak her way into Halcyon’s trusted circle. She sees this woman in power and she’s intrigued—especially because she’s a Capulet. Valentina doesn’t know her story, doesn’t know the struggles she went through to get to where she is, but she’s determined to do anything to get the woman to trust her. If she has to go digging into the woman’s past, then she’ll do it. She just needs a way to connect to the woman, then she’ll be able to work her way up the ladder. It’s a dangerous task to be messing with someone so high up in the Capulets, but Valentina trusts herself enough to take on the risk.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Why am I even being asked this question? Of course you can kill her off. I dare you.

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample:

Valentina was a shadow in the night, a lithe figure that seemed to move around the streets of Verona with an ease akin to that of a cat. She knew the streets like one knew an intimate lover, and the path she was on was certainly one she walked a thousand times before. It was the same every night: wander out, look for those who seem most likely to fall for a sob story or not notice a missing piece of jewelry, then come back and share the spoils with Santino. It was a routine she mastered, but it was also a routine that bored her. There were only so many times she could watch a rich businessman look at her with sympathetic eyes. There were only so many times she could walk away with an engaged woman’s ring before the nights began to blur together. She was a creature of substance, a creature of vices, and she needed to find another vice to fill her desires.

Her eyes always wandered to certain figures during her nightly strolls. Men with guns on their hips and knives strapped to their legs. Woman who walk the streets as if they owned the city itself. She watched them not with a jealousy, but rather a curiosity. She wanted to know more about them— to be one of them. They held power that she could never have in her state. They held fight that she had been displaying her whole life. Whispers were often heard about the Montagues and the Capulets, a rivalry as old as time itself, and she couldn’t help but picture herself alongside them. War is often said to tear people apart, but perhaps she was ready to be made into something new.

This would be the night it all would change. She would propose this idea to her brother: join one of the sides, move up the ranks, and finally make something of themselves. No more cons, no more stealing. They’d get enough money to get their own apartment. They’d be able to afford more food than just a piece of bread or a sandwich to split between the two of them. They’d be free to do whatever they wanted. It was a dream that Valentina only wished to follow. This rivalry would be her resurrection. This war would be her new beginning. If only she could somehow convince her soft hearted brother to go along with her plan.

Her feet carried her all the way back to the abandoned room her and her brother were staying at. She could walk around this city blindfolded and easily get to the right place. The streets had been her domain for so long that it was strange to imagine them actually living in a home and not some old motel or deserted apartment. It was a good kind of strange, though. She would love to finally have her own room and a place to store what little things she kept on her body. Her brother would be able to take up some hobbies and not have to worry about her safety all the time. It was perfect.

What was not perfect was the eerie feeling she got as she wandered up to their little hideaway. She had left her brother alone for a few hours but perhaps that was too long to be away from him. She trusted him, but everyone else in Verona? She didn’t trust them.

As she pushed the door open, her jaw clenched at the sight. The dead body spilling blood all over their few possessions. The man with a gun to her brother’s head. The quiet acceptance in her brother’s gaze—as if this truly was how he would die. There were many questions that ran through her mind, but she would have to ask those later. For now, she needed to pull off one last con and make sure her brother was well and alive.

“Well, I’m sad you all threw a party without me. Really, Santino, inform me next time we have some visitors. I would have cleaned the place up.”

She saw the man’s alarm that there was not one Gallo in his midst, but two of them. Perhaps he thought he would get done with this quickly and move on to whomever else wronged his boss, but Valentina was nothing if not difficult. She casually walked over the dead body in the room and stood near her brother and the man who was invading their space. She gently placed her fingertips on her brother’s shoulder before glancing at the man.

“Now, why don’t you put the gun down? I’m sure my brother and I can figure out some way to settle this misunderstanding. You’ll find we can be quite loyal to those that treat us well. Isn’t that right, Santino?”

And within a few more exchanges, she had sealed their fate. Work for the Montagues. A life of work in exchange for their lives. Her brother may have thought she was signing their death wish, but she found herself signing a new beginning. This wasn’t a punishment. This was a blessing, and she was ready to prove that she could be the soldier they always wanted.

Extras:

https://www.pinterest.com/aesthctics/oc-valentina-gallo/

[writeforsoreeyes]

BL LookBack - Only the Ring Finger Knows

Welcome to BL LookBack, where I’m rereading some of the oldest BL series still on my shelves to see how well they hold up for me today!

[image description: cover of Only the Ring Finger Knows; two teenage boys in school uniforms pose intimately with rings prominently displayed on their fingers]

story by Satoru Kannagi / art by Hotaru Odagiri originally serialized 2001 - 2002 (Takuma Shoten) English edition: 2004 (Digital Manga Publishing)

Only the Ring Finger Knows was a pioneer in the United States--one of the first BL published here and an early hit. I feel safe in saying that nearly everyone who had an interest in BL in the 2000s at least knew of it, if not read it. Many considered it the ideal “beginner’s BL.”

I recall liking it well enough back when I first read it ~10 years ago. I even remember the plot keenly thanks to its simplicity and unique elements. It felt odd (dare I say queer) to reread it now that I am closer to 30 than 20, out of the closet, and a lot better informed on problematic tropes. Still, I’m pleasantly surprised at how well it holds up all these years later (relatively speaking.)

Wataru is an ordinary teenager who, by chance, meets Kazuki, a popular upperclassman. Kazuki is the prince of their high school, with what seems like the entire female student body crushing on him. In fact, even girls at other schools adore Kazuki. He’s handsome, smart, athletic, rich, and-- above all else--known for his kindness.

Wataru, therefore, is shocked when Kazuki treats him rudely during their first encounter. He continues to be a jerk to Wataru during future meetings. Why does he treat me differently? Wataru wonders. As time goes by, his thoughts become more and more preoccupied with Kazuki.

[image description: Kazuki yanks a handkerchief from Wataru’s grip and tells him, “Wash your face at home.”]

I’m sure you can all tell where this is going. It’s an old plot, made popular for centuries by works like Pride and Prejudice. What distinguishes Only the Ring Finger Knows from similar stories is its one quirky plot element: the rings.

At Wataru and Kazuki’s school, rings are popular. Two friends might wear matching rings on their right ring fingers to show off their bond. A student can signal that they are single by wearing a ring on their middle finger. And, most importantly, couples wear matching rings on their left ring fingers.

Wataru isn’t keen on the trend, but he does have a ring that he wear on his middle finger due to his personal attachment to it. And (gasp!) Kazuki happens to have a ring that is the exact same design.

You can probably guess where this is going as well.

[image description: Kazuki says that he had to get his ring back from Wataru because “it’s creepy being paired up with a guy.” After a moment, Wataru says, “Same here!”]

The plot is beat-by-beat predictable, which isn’t necessarily a detriment within the romance genre. What the story does notably well is the character writing. 

Wataru is relatable for readers: aware that he doesn’t stand out and righteously upset at being treated poorly for no reason. He stands up for himself, pushing back against Kazuki’s bad behavior verbally and-- when necessary-- physically. He’s kind to his sister, doing her the favor of delivering a friend’s present to Kazuki even though he’s loathe to talk to Kazuki more. Perhaps most importantly, he’s honest to himself about his feelings, even as they confuse him.

[image description: Wataru presents Kazuki with a large, wrapped gift. Kazuki is taken aback and Wataru notes that Kazuki’s surprise seems genuine even though Wataru thinks Kazuki must get gifts frequently.]

Kazuki, meanwhile, is compelling for readers primarily because they suspect what his true feelings are and wait on bated breath for those feelings to be revealed. It’s always satisfying when a proud character admits something that they view as a vulnerability. However, 

Kazuki as a character ages poorly for me. The “he teases you because he likes you” mindset persists even today, but it’s becoming less tolerable for modern readers and may turn some off this story. 

In addition, Kazuki leans dangerously into the “bully but secretly gay” trope. It doesn’t feel quite accurate to call Kazuki a bully-- he doesn’t purposefully seek Wataru out to harass him or humiliate him in front of peers. But he does nettle Wataru during every interaction. Whenever Kazuki feels the conversation is becoming too intimate or he has exposed too much of himself, he sabotages the conversation by pissing Wataru off.

[image description: Kazuki leans forward so that Wataru is backed into a wall. Wataru looks irritated. With just inches between their faces, Kazuki says, “Thanks for the special delivery.”]

I’ve no doubt that these traits would make him an unacceptable love interest for many readers. However, some people enjoy such characters and Kazuki never does anything to Wataru that absolutely crosses the line into irredeemable. (Your mileage may vary.) 

Furthermore, when Kazuki finally confesses his feelings to Wataru and admits that he had no hope of Wataru ever liking him back, it’s instinctive to respond to that kind of vulnerability. Who among us has never feared that they valued a relationship far more than the object of their affections, whether it be a lover, a crush, a friend, or a family member?

[image description: Wataru tells Kazuki that he threw his ring away. Kazuki is shocked.]

The other element of the story that doesn’t age well is its attitude towards homosexuality. While Only the Ring Finger Knows is not as egregious in this respect as some other BL, it’s still tiring to read things like “It’s creepy being paired up with a guy,” and “You sure you aren’t ‘funny,’ that way?” 

Also, the characters exhibit a prevailing belief that being gay is something a person chooses. Even as Wataru accepts his own unexpected feelings for Kazuki, he thinks to himself, “Someone as popular as Kazuki has no reason to turn to another man for a partner.” (Despite the fact that he himself didn’t “turn” to Kazuki and fell for him quite naturally.) Likewise, Kazuki’s cousin makes a comment to Wataru’s sister that she’s surprised Kazuki didn’t “choose” to fall in love with her instead of Wataru, since Wataru and his sister look so much alike.

In addition, the most chaste displays of romantic affection between two men are treated as borderline obscene. In an epilogue, Wataru and Kazuki kiss briefly in front of Kazuki’s young niece. It’s meant to be a humorous and somewhat shocking moment, captioned with “in front of a child.” There’s nothing scandalous about the moment though, so the “humor” falls flat and ultimately it comes off as prudish at best and homophobic at worst.

As typical of BL from this era, there’s zero discussion of the troubles queer people face in a conservative society. The few people who find out about Wataru and Kazuki’s feelings are supportive. Neither Wataru nor Kazuki seem to think that they might be ostracized at school when people realize they are dating-- they mention that rumors may occur, but nothing nefarious. Indeed, the word “gay” never comes up in the story, nor does any related terminology.

[image description: Kazuki confesses that he found it hard to speak with Wataru because he was struggling with his feelings, adding “I never imagined that I’d find myself in love with a younger... man.”]

Many BL (old and new) have an issue of treating their female characters poorly. While none of the actual female characters in Only the Ring Finger Knows receive bad treatment, it’s troublesome how the manga paints basically every female student as being obsessed with Kazuki. And I do mean obsessed-- a mob of girls show up at Kazuki’s house on his birthday uninvited and end up rioting.

Despite these grievances, I did enjoy my reread of the manga. It’s a classic tale told well, with each scene showing how Wataru and Kazuki circle around each other, slowly drawing closer. The emotional payoff when they get together is satisfying, even if I can’t help but begrudge Kazuki his happiness somewhat.

*final verdict: still recommended with mild disclaimers*

[happiestholland-blog]

Coffee Shop: Chapter 1

Fuckboy Tom AU!! TomHollandxReader

Summary: You and Tom meet :-)

Word Count: 2643

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex

A/N: I couldn’t wait, so here’s Chapter 1 

(Y/H/C): your hair color

(Y/E/C): your eye color

Between your work as a personal assistant, working on movie sets, you spent your free time sketching and writing about the people you encountered in your local coffee shop, just a ten minute walk from your small apartment. Whenever you weren't on some movie set, you were usually here, hiding away in the corner, observing others, creating your own narratives of other people’s lives based on their appearances, how rushed they seemed, and what they wore. You found that this little hobby, with your personal assistant job, allowed for good practice and exposure for your dream to work in the movie industry, writing scripts and screenplays for huge movies, maybe direct your own short film. You were just getting prepared for a movie you’d be soon leaving in about three weeks for; your biggest job yet. You were hired for a new Marvel movie, though you had no idea for who exactly you’d be a personal assistant to. You heard that it was common within Marvel Studios; you didn’t always know exactly who you working with. Secrecy was huge. You even had to sign confidentiality contracts in order to be officially hired. You had issues with the people you dated in the past. To them, you were a damaged good, all because of an incident that happened to you that still struggle to talk about. For a no name dreaming to work big time, you felt pretty content; with your simple life in the city, in your cosy apartment, hobbies, traveling for work every so often. 

Today was no different. You sat in your usual spot by the window in the crowded coffee shop, people watching, sketching, as busy people bustled in and out of the store. As per usual, at this hour, the coffee shop was packed, every table filled with usual patrons. As you worked on a sketch of bearded man with a briefcase, you barely noticed the very attractive man who stood in front of you, until he spoke.

“Hello, this seat taken?” he asked in a British accent.

You look up, taken aback by the sudden distraction, and oh boy, was he a distraction. He had tousled brown curly hair and a warm look to him that was so welcoming. You sit there gaping at him, both surprised by the sudden interruption and his good looks, unrealizing of his question.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be a bother,” he said, wrongfully reading your expression. “The place is packed. I was just wondering if I could take a seat here,” he repeats, gesturing towards the chair sitting across the table from you, with your backpack and coat resting on it.

You shake your head out of your daze, waving your permission with your hand. He hands you your backpack, which you promptly place on the floor by your feet.

“Thank you,” he chuckled. “My name is Tom, and yours?”

“(Y/N),” you quip, a smile growing on your face.

He reaches his hand out for an amicable handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Tom wasn’t about sitting and chatting about his life to an absolute stranger. In fact, his initial plan was to be in and out with the headache he had. But once he got there, the soft music with the chatter of people coming in and out of the busy coffee shop lulled his sharp headache to a dull ache. No one recognized him yet, and that in itself was a good sign that he wasn’t going to be mobbed by fans. Though the place was packed, it was only filled with soft chatter from the patrons sitting at tables and scattered sofas and loveseats placed around the warm environment. Every table was full, every seat taken except for one. The seat sat across from the pretty little number with her head bent over a tiny journal, her brows furrowed as she worked. She was a usual at this coffee shop, Tom had seen her in the few times he had dropped in. She was pretty in the best way, her long hair long and full, eyes large and focused. This in itself was inviting enough, and though it was only about ten in the morning, maybe he’d have a new partner to take up to his apartment that night, depending on how things went and how well he could charm her. “So whaddya working on there?” Tom asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

You smiled a private smile to yourself, before packing a few of your colored pencils away. “It’s kind of a private thing,” you replied with a smile, continuing to write a description of your latest sketch for a narrative for later.

Tom chuckled. “Don’t you know that’s only going to make me more intrigued? I’m sure whatever it is, it’s quite intriguing.”

You shrug, another smile growing across your face. “Hm, I don’t know, sharing my secrets with a stranger? I don’t think so.”

It was Tom’s turn to shrug with a smile. “Fair enough. Are you from around here? I’ve seen you a fair amount of times here.”

You nod, taking a sip from your coffee. “I live just a bit that way,” you say nonchalantly, gesturing in the general direction of your apartment building, though it was clearly visible from where you sat. “But I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here as much.”

Tom settles further in his seat. “Yeah, just decided to swing by. I live over that way too,” he pointed in the same general direction. “Had a headache earlier, decided to stop for a coffee, came in, had a bit of my fix, decided to hang for a bit.”

You smile. “Yeah, I get it. The atmosphere of this place, even when it’s busy, is pretty calming. It’s my favorite spot in the city.” You weren’t sure why you offered that last gratuitous bit, often you weren’t a fan of sharing your life story with a complete stranger, but here you were.

“I can see why. You’ve got a good view from here,” he replied.

Smiling, you glance out the window, studying the view like you were seeing it again for the first time. “Yeah, I really do,” you say softly.

Though Tom’s first and only mindset when talking to anyone of the opposite sex was to only bone them, with no strings attached and barely any information exchanged, he found that for the first time, real interest was sparked; something he hasn’t felt in a while. Alarms rang in his head, don’t let anyone in, don’t let them get close to him. The less they know, the less they felt attached to him. That was the rule of his game since his last relationship with the girl he can barely name to this day, since he came home after wrapping Homecoming. There was something about this little (Y/H/C) haired, (y/e/c) eyed girl bent over her notebook and her soft voice that was endearing to him.

You brushed the hair out of your eyes before loosely fastening your long hair into a bun in the back of your head with two of your pencils in lieu of a hair elastic, making Tom’s heart flutter a little. He barely knew anything about you, but somehow, his instinct is to do the exact opposite of his usual, which is kind of really alarming to him. He suddenly realizes that he’s more intrigued and his mind focuses on the sound of your soft gentle voice and melodic laugh, and he that he was in deep shit trouble.

He clears his throat. “Um, so what do you do for a living?”

You bite your lip slightly before taking another sip of your coffee. “I uh,” you hesitate, wondering how much of yourself you allow for this stranger to know. “Well, I just graduated from university, I’m currently working as a personal assistant for small time movies, you know, just getting exposure in the industry?”

Tom nods. “Yeah I get you.”

“And you?”, you ask.

It’s Tom’s turn to hesitate. A voice in his head urged him to just come out with exactly who he was, a big name actor, made famous by Marvel Cinematic Universe and his role as Spider-man, but an even louder voice told him that he should keep it under wraps, in fear of scaring you off or allowing you to know too much, as you obviously didn’t recognize him. “I actually work in the industry too, just an extra in a few movies.” There. That wasn’t a complete lie. And if she’s working small time, what are the odds of them running into each other? The odds were slim to nonexistent, especially since he was a huge movie star.

“Great, then we can learn a little bit from each other for our own careers,” you smiled, your hands fiddling with one of your colored pencils, flipping it through your fingers nimbly.

Tom nodded in agreement, sipping his coffee, a heavy yet comfortable silence settling over both of you.

As the morning shifted into noon, you found yourselves further intrigued by each other, quietly laughing in comfortable conversation, and making a deal to meet the following day at the same spot.

Following your first meeting in the coffee shop, Tom slunk back to his apartment, feeling thrilled at meeting you, but filled with heavy dread. Though you seemed smart and engaging and hot, Tom knew that meeting with you the next day allowed for more chances for someone, pretty much a stranger, to get closer to him than he ever would have wanted. It was terrifying. Unlocking the door to his apartment, he bustles in, hangs his coat over the back of his chair, and decides he’s going to get shit-faced drunk once again and probably-most likely, bring another woman home to remind him of his pact to himself to keep himself busy and distracted from you, from his fears. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. After thumbing his screen briefly, he called up his best mate, Harrison, and arranged for them to meet at his apartment, and then hit up a their bars.

You on the other hand, were exhilarated at your meeting, looking forward to the next day. You left a little bit after he did, around late afternoon, after making small talk with Ms. Phillips, the old owner of the coffee shop, kind of like a mother away from home, as you helped her stack coffee mugs and sweep up a little.

“So that young man,” Ms. Phillips asks suggestively. “He was handsome.”

You laugh politely. “Yeah he was. Just a little closed off is all.”

She nods with a small laugh. “Don’t be so surprised, after all, you just met. But be careful young lady, boys like that might have a side you never imagined.”

“I’ll be careful, Ms. Phillips,” you roll your eyes playfully. “I just think he makes nice conversation.” You stack one last mug and pick your backpack off a nearby table. “It was nice chatting with you, Ms. Phillips, but I should get going before it gets too late. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She waves politely as you leave and you walk the block to your apartment building. You hit the elevator up button and step in as they glide humming to yourself.

“Hey!!! Hold that door!” a voice calls from the entrance to your building.

You instinctively jam your foot in the door of the elevator before it slid shut, and the blond boy jogs his way over to avoid keeping you waiting. Correction, the very cute blond boy.

“Thanks for grabbing the door,” he smiles, taking his place next to you. He has a similar accent to Tom’s, and his eyes are very blue.

“It was no problem,” you smile amicably. “Floor?” you ask, your hand hovering over the button panel.

“Fifth,” he replied curtly as you immediately hit the button. “Thank you,” he smiles.

“Are you new here?” You ask, obviously not recognizing him.

He shakes his head. “Nah, just visiting a friend.”

You both stood in silence, taking each other in on your way up before the elevator stops at your floor. “Well this is my stop,” you say, turning to wave, but this time, his foot catches the door.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” the blond asked hopefully. “I didn’t catch your name, sorry about that.”

“It’s (y/n),” you smile. “And yours?”

“Harrison. Harrison Osterfield” he smiles, his foot still holding the elevator door open.

“Well, you know where to find me, Harrison,” you smile. “See you around.” and with that, you turn towards your apartment and settle for the night.

Tom opened his apartment door to a very happy looking Harrison. There was an unsettling satisfied smirk across his friend’s face that he knew Harrison rarely had across his face in Tom’s presence, especially in the wake of Tom’s recent behaviors and mishaps.

“So what’s got you so happy, mate?” Tom asked his friend while Harrison got situated at Tom’s kitchen table.

Harrison shrugged, not wanting to spill the beans on the pretty girl he had met just moments before. “I just met someone on her way up. I think I’m going to try to get to know her.”

Tom let out a little chuckle. “She got a name?”

“Well yeah, but I think I’m just gonna mums it until I know it can get somewhere,” Harrison replies breezily.

Tom nodded. He got that. He didn’t exactly want to tell Harrison about the girl he had met that morning in the coffee shop that got his whole head in a tizzy. “Listen mate, I just need to have some guy time, you know. Just hit a few bars, maybe.”

“Okay, mate, I’m down,” Harrison replied, his voice tinged with slight annoyance. He knew how this night was about to end. It usually involved Tom almost piss drunk, hitting it off with a girl, and Harrison returning home by himself, and Tom with a new lady friend. Although Tom’s main objective of the night was to get drunk and then laid promptly afterwards, you lingered on his mind. As soon as they got to their first bar of the night, this became evident to Harrison as Tom ignored the first girl who made a move on him.

“Hey mate what’s going on?” Harrison asked his friend as Tom sipped on his first beer of the night, which in itself was unlike him. He was usually almost on his ass drunk

Tom shrugged.

“You met someone didn’t ya, mate? Who is she?” Harrison pressed.

Tom shrugged again, once more failing to notice the suggestive stares directed towards him from the pretty brunette sitting a little ways away. “I don’t really know. Just some girl in the coffee shop that I met this morning.”

Harrison looked at his friend in shock. “This must have been some girl,” he replied, smiling. You must have been something if you got this kind of reaction out of Tom Holland of all people. “Has she got a name?”

“Don’t be dim. Of course she does.”

“So what is it?” Harrison asked, nudging his friend’s side.

“I don’t really want to talk about it. Got me feeling fucked up,” Tom said, keeping his eyes on his bottle.

“Some girl, then huh?” Harrison smiles, waggling his brows at Tom.

Tom shook his head, lifting his eyes from his drink, finally seeing the brunette girl sitting across the bar. “Maybe,” was his reply. In truth, he was terrified of you. Not for your soft eyes and gentle smile, but for how easily his guard came down when talking to you. That hasn’t happened with anyone for almost two years, and it was terrifying and exhilarating since he wrapped the filming for Spider-man. Getting with this girl sending him the flirty stares will remind him of why he does what he does. He needs this. He takes a large swig of his beer, guzzling it until it was empty, before ordering another, and making his way to the leggy brunette with the suggestive eyes.

[but-boomerang-arrows]

ooc;; there’s a specific emotion that i have about wanda max!moff that is so intensely personal that whenever i see a sad photoset about how brave she was or how hard it is to lose the only thing you love in the world, i feel it absolutely to my core.

it’s primarily because i had a DnD character based on her: scorned by her family for being thought uncapable of love due to a curse that left her with a void where her heart was. if she ever fell in love, she would lose her powers and lose favor with her patron. she found a new friend and their inner darkness balanced each other out; for her, she swallowed her darkness because she was in love with him and wanted to be better, to be worthy. for him, yet to be determined.

anyways, she never had a chance for validation. she seemingly went mad as their travels continued on because she kept trading information to try and gain an advantage for their group and she kept doing sketchier and sketchier things and gave up names of allies, ensuring their deaths. she learned spells that could kill dozens of people in one blow. she traded her voice for his life at one point. she became afraid of herself.

when she died, she was right next to her best friend, bleeding out under the weight of now two curses, having given up memories of him to gain more power, everything she fucking did was in his name, and he watched her die, unable to do anything. because she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even cry out to him, couldn’t even tell him that she loved him.

i just ache when i think about her, and so whenever i see stuff about wanda’s bravery and her never being afraid of death and having lost the only thing she ever loved, it reminds me of Kyva. she lost herself and then lost him, in a way, by setting herself on a doomed path. idk, i’m just having emotions about her again, she only ever wanted to be treated with respect, not like a mob boss’s daughter or like her patron’s tool or like a devil child. and she never got that. she just kept making bad deals and getting hurt.

now her partner is going on and he’s going darkside ‘cause he doesn’t have his counterbalance and as a player, it’s so interesting, but being in my character’s mindset, she’s so distressed because in the end, he was her entire world.

breakin my own heart tonight, fuck me, i miss her, i loved playing her

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 36

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: the next chapter is gonna be the last one and i think i’m gonna need therapy. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N was dressed in a baby pink and white tweed two piece, her almond white heel hitting the ground as she looked around the same halls she used to run as a child. Yet, this time everything seemed a bit more somber, the red of the walls seemed to almost swallow her in her own mind. Everything seemed a blur to her, from Dan showing up at the house with most of Mr. Forrest’s men to Sebastian being taken away. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, all she knew was that she had been moved around by Dan and several other associates from place to place until she had finally been placed in her old bedroom of her childhood home. However, the home no longer felt like home and as she waited outside Mr. Forrest’s office, fingers picking at the fabric of the very expensive skirt which for the first time seemed to fit her like a second skin. 

The door opened and one of the maids gave her a kind smile before pulling the door completely open. She stood up on her heels, wondering what awaited her behind the threshold into the office of the man she had just discovered was her father. Not that it was a completely bad new, Mr. Forrest had never been anything other than kind to her but it was odd. It was odd that the father she always wished would be around during Father’s day, who would come to see her recitals had always been there but at the same time it wasn’t. He had always been in the crowd, unbeknownst to her and as she stepped inside his office and looked at the man she had seen ever since was little standing up, staring at her as if she would disappear at any minute, she wondered how she felt. Between Sebastian and being moved around like a lost package hadn’t given her enough time to even consider how she felt about her actual parentage. The young just turned heiress wasn’t sure how she felt about actually having one parent alive yet being somehow the reason as to why her mother wasn’t around anymore.

    - I know you probably have several questions, Y/N. - his voice trembled, almost in fear of what his daughter had pent up inside of her. - If you allowed me, I would like to explain it to you what really happened.

    - I guess. - her hands held the top of the chair, not sure if she should sit or not. 

    - I really loved your mother. I met her at the Opera, I swear I can still hear her voice in the quiet of the night ... I nicknamed her Robin, gave her the necklace you’re wearing. She loved you so much, she painted your nursery herself, spent hours and hours deciding on a name before finally sticking with Ella and would constantly read you her favourite books even before you were born. We were so ready to have you but after your mother I just, I just couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I thought many times about placing you with some of my associates but then they put you in my arms and I saw your mother’s eyes on you, how tiny you were, I just couldn’t let you go. I do realise it was selfish of me and I know you probably will never forgive me for lying all these years but all I did was to protect you ... Not that it worked very well in the end. 

Y/N just starred at the powerful man in front of her lay it all down. Maybe it was her curse to get powerful man at their most vulnerable yet Y/N just couldn’t be mad. She knew she should be mad, she should be mad that all this time she had a father, she had a completely different name in her mother’s eyes without even mentioning being in the shadow. Yet, she couldn’t be mad, when she looked at him all she saw was a man who had lost the woman he loved and the opportunity of having a daughter, or at least having her the way everyone ordinarily had one. 

She sighed, a faint smile pulling at the corner of her lips as she walked closer to the old man, wrapping her arms around him. What use was it be mad? They had both lost something, something important and while Y/N had lost her mother, he had lost the woman he loved. As much love Y/N held for the mother she never knew, her father had lost the woman he had loved and the opportunity to have an ordinary lifestyle. She was in no place to be mad at someone who had lost so much.

   - I forgive you. - she took a step back, her eyes slightly glancing to the little robin attached to the golden chain. 

   - We should get some dinner. I would love to show you some photos from when your mother was pregnant. 

   - I would love to but I’m afraid I have to check on someone. - Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if she should mention her relationship with Sebastian. She had mostly begged Daniel not to mention it and while Gwen had jetted off the moment she didn’t have to get married anymore, she was wise enough not to drop it on her newly found father that she was not only in a relationship with the man who was supposed to marry Gwen just a few weeks ago but also pregnant. Either way, she wanted to go check on Sebastian. No matter how much she asked, no one would tell her anything and her phone had been removed right when they both were rescued from Mr. Williams. - Maybe later on?

   - Make sure you take Daniel with you. - Y/N nodded as one of the employees escorted her outside the study and back to the hallway where Dan was.  She gave him a playful smile before walking up to whom she guessed she now had to call her step-brother, not that he hadn’t act like one since she was a little girl. 

   - Tweed? Starting to dress like an heiress, Y/N? 

   - One of the maids left it in my bedroom. - she twisted her foot slightly behind her, a bit of heat climbing up to his cheeks. - Mr. Forrest, I mean, my father said I need to take you if I wanna go somewhere. 

   - It’s okay, he only told me he was his father when I was 10. You get used to it eventually. 

  - How do you get used to suddenly becoming first in line to owning ... - she motioned around her. - All of this. 

  - I’m sure you can ask Sebastian for help. - his words made her stop on her tracks, a furrowed eyebrow at his statement before Daniel took a file from under his shirt. - I had my suspicions but after he was ready to sign off his place in the mob for you ... well, didn’t take long to puzzle it out. 

  - Did you tell anyone? - she grabbed the file away from him, not wanting anyone to hold it and mostly because she wished to destroy it or give it to Sebastian. 

  - I don’t think Gwen would be too interested in it considering she went on holiday with one of his bodyguards the moment she got told the wedding was off. Besides, if someone is to tell our father about it, it certainly won’t be me. 

  - I thought you hated Sebastian. I’m sure you called them standoffish and murderous. 

  - I still dislike him but ... you like him and considering you’re gonna be my boss someday, I don’t think I should really go against what you want. 

Y/N merely chuckled at him as both of them got into the car and, following a bit of banter discussing if it was the best idea to go visit Sebastian or not, started to drive up to the Upper East Side. Sebastian hadn’t been taken to the hospital despite most of Y/N’s complaining, whenever she did all Dan would say ‘we don’t want the police in our business’ so all she could think about was if he was alright and recovering just fine. It wasn’t like someone would harm her if she made a call, however Dan and the other associates were firm on keeping Y/N as isolated as possible for the very first weeks.

Maybe it had been for the best, she had spent the two weeks feeling sick or very tired and weirdly enough, only a few days ago had she been able to get up without feeling like a goblin. However, she sure hoped he was alright and as his apartment because visible, her heart soared. It wasn’t like Sebastian had tried to contact her either, maybe he didn’t want to see her. After all, she was the reason he had three bullet holes in his body. As Dan parked in front of the building, her heart beat faster.

    - I’ll wait for you here. - Dan took her off her mindset. - Be safe, okay? 

    - I will. - Y/N climbed off the car, scarily walking over to the door which was opened by the doorman with a smile on his face. She entered the very familiar lift, looking at the light buttons on the switch panel until the penthouse was reached. The doors opened horizontally and the once familiar house felt cold. Maybe it was because there just wasn’t so much staff running around. Actually, she could only spot a few bodyguards and overall staff before Amelia came strutting her way.

   - Miss Y/N, I was so worried. When you didn’t come back with Mr. Sebastian. Thank god you’re alright, you look so good. 

   - Yeah, they’ve been moving me around for a few weeks. Do you reckon I could see Sebastian?

   - He’s been in his room for a few weeks, doctor’s orders. I told him to go the hospital but the police rule. - she started to walk up the stairs with Y/N right behind her until she led her to Sebastian’s room. - You let me know if you need anything.

Y/N took a deep breathe, trying to shoo away all of the negative thoughts she had within her mind before pulling on the door handle, pushing the door open to see Sebastian laid down in bed surrounded by several papers, most likely contracts, with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. She leaned against the wood of the door lining, her eyes calmly set on his tense forehead as he went through each paper faster than a computer, writing what looked like unreadable calligraphy. He was the one to notice her first, taking his glasses off as a soft smile appeared on his face.

    - Didn’t think your father would let you near me any time soon. - he spoke out, voice slightly raspy as if he hadn’t caught a wink of sleep in the past weeks. Y/N merely rolled her eyes at his statement, walking up to his bed and taking a seat in a spot free of papers. - Are you alright?

    - I should be asking you that. - her hand creeped up to his, her fingers shyly touching his. - You should’ve gone to the hospital, Sebastian.

    - Just bullet wounds, angel, nothing new. 

    - I thought I lost you, Sebastian. You didn’t try to reach out to me for two weeks, I was worried. - she bite down onto her lip, afraid her emotions would get the best of her. Sebastian noticed this, pushing the contracts away from his lap before his hands wrapped around her waist, pushing her closer to him despite the lingering pain of the gun shot wounds still present but he didn’t care.

    - Angel, I thought you were gonna die and it was my fault. I promised nothing bad would happen to you and that ... that despicable rat had you chained to the ground .. the things he said he would do to you and if he had done it it would’ve been my fault.

   - Sebastian, it’s not your fault. - her hand raised to caress his jaw. - You couldn’t have done anything, whatever he wanted ... it goes way past me and you. 

   - I allowed him to be near you and I let you be alone at the hotel ... I should’ve just ran off with you, I should’ve just ... I should’ve just told you I loved you when I had the shot, we could’ve jus ...

   - It’s no good to live in the past, Seb. You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re fine. Whatever happened, let’s just forget it. - she took the documents from her purse handing it to him. - I thought you should have those. I don’t think it would be very safe for those papers to be wandering around. I can’t believe you would give it all up for me.

   - I would do anything for you. - he leaned his head against her shoulder. - How is the baby? 

   - Baby’s fine, probably got tired of making me feel miserable all the time. - she made herself comfortable in his bed. - How do you feel about it? The baby, I mean.

   - I would’ve rather heard about it in a less stressing situation but I just can’t really believe it. Somewhere in my life I must’ve done something good, I must’ve done something good because I really don’t deserve you much less a family with you.

   - I don’t really think it’s about deserving, it’s just ... maybe fated considering I was supposed to marry you all along. 

   - That is a contract marriage I can’t really complain about.

   - From now on, let it just be the two of us. Nothing else, no more Gwen, no more lost parents, just ... an ordinary family. 

   - I’d like that.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee​ @nikkipea​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @madisonpillstrom​ @cevans98​ @thelostallycat​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @anxiousdreamersworld​ @captainchrisstan​ @lookiamtrying​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @stuffforreferences​ @thebadassbitchqueen​ @sebastianstansqueen​ @nsfwsebbie​ @strangerliaa​ @emzd34​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​ @dreams-in-blxck​ @krismeunicornbaobei​ @buckysteveloki-me​

[thestrategicmom]

Dr. King’s ‘Love in Action’: Practical Steps for Forgiveness

Today commemorates the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and this year Dr. King’s message seems more needed than ever. Maybe it’s the deadly pandemic ravaging the world and disproportionately killing people of color. Maybe it’s due to recent visuals of violent, unapologetic mobs storming our nation’s Capital, or because the unjust killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Andre Hill are still fresh in our minds. One thing remains true, decades after his death, the realization of Dr. King’s dream seems nowhere close to our current reality.

In my efforts to stay motivated and hopeful during this time of change and chaos, I was brought back to four key mindsets I discussed in my 2020 Vision series: gratitude, intentionality, optimism and faith/serenity. While each of these mindsets continue to be critical, Dr. King’s 1963 sermon entitled “Love in Action'' emphasizes another fifth, equally important mindset: forgiveness. King describes Jesus’s painful and agonizing death upon the cross, when rather than uttering words of revenge and retribution, he simply replies “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” King explains that Jesus’s words demonstrate that forgiveness transcends a single action. Forgiveness is a permanent attitude that must become instinctive and habitual, allowing us to access radical love.

Forgiving others and more importantly yourself can assist in adopting the spirit of constant forgiveness Dr. King preached about and invite growth, improved health, peace, and divine love into your life this year and for years to come. 

Forgiving Others 

The type of forgiveness Dr. King preaches about isn’t the occasional acceptance of an “I’m sorry.” It’s a perpetual extension of mercy. Forgiveness is like a muscle, the more you use it, the stronger it gets. Practicing forgiveness everyday helps build a habit of instinctively responding to hurt, wrong, and injustice with empathy and understanding. Here are three practical ways to move from enraged to enlightened, and welcome more joy in your life and love in your heart. 

Let it out, then let it go: The worst thing you can do is to keep your emotions bottled up. So, let it out! Think about ways you’ve been hurt throughout your life. Write a letter, journal, talk with a friend or professional counselor, or channel your pain into a creative work. After you’ve begun the process of letting it out, commit to letting it go. It may take time, so be gentle with yourself. Attempt to dedicate a mindful minute each day to focusing on the pain that’s been inflicted, breathing in the emotions you feel, and breathing out forgiveness as you affirm, “I forgive. I release. I deserve peace.”

Look for meaning in the madness: The best way to turn the pain that surrounds us into power is by proactively seeking to learn from our losses. Seek to heal by finding meaning in what you’ve learned or gained because of the pain. Experience is the best teacher so try to turn every test into a testimony. 

Believe in the promise of a better tomorrow: Our world is full of oppression and inequality. However, what connects forgiveness to optimism and faith is the promise of change, improvement, and evolution. We should seize every opportunity to learn from our past while releasing any pain and resentment that binds us so we can focus on designing a better tomorrow for ourselves, our children, and the world.

Forgiving Yourself 

While forgiving others is important, like faith and gratitude, the most fundamental and primary form of forgiveness is forgiveness of self. In fact, the person that many of us must ask forgiveness from the most is ourselves. It’s important to acknowledge when we do something wrong or we risk falling prey to the same mistakes, but we must give ourselves the same grace and compassion that we seek to extend to others.

Own your wrongs/shortcomings: Reflect on and acknowledge things or areas you can improve. Go beyond rationalizing and creating excuses and own it! Whether it involves writing your wrong or holding a mirror confessional, take the time to articulate what you did or didn’t do, the emotions you’re experiencing, and any effects of your actions on yourself or others.

Make a ‘do better’ plan: Seek to understand the motivation behind your actions or lack of action. Ask yourself, “What underlying conditions or beliefs made me act this way or are holding me back from doing what I need to?” Create a “‘do better’ plan”. Your ‘do better’ plan should be no more than two sentences written on two post-its somewhere visible, and describe affirmations or actions you’ll now take to prevent from making the same mistake in the future.

Look on your bright side: Focus on and celebrate your bright side. Create a personal “Win List” detailing the successes or things you’re doing well. Try to come up with at least 10 wins across areas such as family, friendships, personal development, education, business, culture, service, etc. Place your list somewhere where you can see it regularly, then read through your list at least once a week or whenever you’re feeling discouraged as a reminder that you aren’t the sum of your mistakes. Continue to add to your “Win List” as often as you can. Reflecting on our wins conditions our minds to have confidence in and manifest more victories in the future.

Dr. King understood something powerful that we all can benefit from: forgiveness is a gift to ourselves more than anything else. Rather than dwell in anger, angst and anxiety over the pain that others have inflicted upon you or the pain you’ve inflicted upon yourself and others, embrace the peace and power that comes from releasing those negative emotions and grudges because, “they know not what they do…” Dr. King’s dream of equality is still being written, but we can get one step closer to his dream through “love in action” or actively demonstrating forgiveness toward ourselves, others, and our society.

If you enjoyed this post and would like more information on being intentional with your life, download my free ebook on living your life on purpose and with purpose. Also, check out my posts on value and goal-based living, intentional self-care, childcare and development, and relationships.

[sequoiann]

❧ j.ww | saturation

pairing; seventeen wonwoo x reader

genre; fluff, soulmate!wonwoo

synopsis; in which one won’t be able to see color until s/he meets his/her soulmate

word count; 3.1k

notes; finally got to this request !! i’ve been meaning to write it since forever but i never got inspiration for it ahaa but it’s f ina lly done :DD

You stood in front of the vending machine, your fingertips lightly grazing past the glass surface which displayed the different drinks available. 

“Hey, which do you want?” you asked your friend, Sura, who was on the phone. When she didn’t reply and continued chattering away to whoever is on the other side of the line --- presumably her boyfriend, you nudged her. 

“Quick, we gotta get to class soon,” you told her. You managed to catch her attention, and she brings her phone away from her ear for a moment.

“Sorry! The green one, please!” she said, before putting the phone back to her ear. 

“Hey, I’m hanging up, I’ll talk to you later,” she mutters into the phone before ending the call. 

She looks to you, who had your arms crossed around your chest, your feet lightly tapping on the ground in mock annoyance. 

“Green?” you asked her incredulously. “Might as well tell me the shade of grey that I see.”

Sura widens her eyes slightly, biting in her lips. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! I forgot!”

You laugh, breaking the tension. “It’s alright.”

Sura quickly puts in her own coins into the machine and presses on the apparently green-canned drink.

You lived in a world of complete black and white --- and so did everyone else, until they meet their significant other; their soulmate. Sura, of course, had found hers. Her soulmate was from a different school, though, so they only met on weekends --- but their bond was unbreakable. Most of the kids your age could already see color, but you weren’t a part of that group. It wasn’t pleasant. Everything felt monotonously dull, and you just couldn’t feel or see the life in anything. It was almost as if everything was dead. 

But you’ve grown up with this for the past 19 years, so it wasn’t like you were not used to it. You just felt unsettled whenever you saw someone gasp upon receiving a bouquet of roses, exclaiming things like “it’s so pretty!”. To you, you just questioned it. What is pretty? It’s just a dark, grey mob. 

Even people simply speaking about colors, you couldn’t help but feel left out from the community. But you never mentioned that. You knew that it was inevitable to talk about colors the moment you could see them. 

But no matter how edgy you felt whenever you heard about it, you clung onto your friends’ descriptions about colors for dear life. The way they described how yellow was like the bright sun; how it was pretty much the brightest color, and how red was just warm and fiery. The crippling realization that you may never meet your soulmate and may never be in the world of colors had you thinking a lot. 

“Y/N! Are you listening to what I’m saying?” Sura spoke, elbowing your side as you two walked down the hall. You snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head. 

“Huh? What?” you asked. Sura raises an eyebrow and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. I must’ve zoned out.”

“I was asking if you wanna go to the party after finals,” Sura repeated herself. 

“The tradition’s still going, huh?” you smiled, and Sura grins, playfully, hitting you with her shoulder.

“Of course! It’ll never die. It’s the only thing that motivates us to get through the year, isn’t it?” she says, wiggling her eyebrows, resulting in you lightly slapping her across her cheek, laughing at her comical face. 

“Stop doing that,” you laughed. 

Sura quickly regains her composure. “Okay, so you up for it, right?”

You furrowed your eyebrows together falsely, stroking your chin with your thumb and index finger. “I don’t know, am I?”

Sura widens her eyes and shoves you, making you bump into a random student, the both of you stumbling.

“Watch where you’re going!” the student scolds, and you immediately apologize. Sura just snickers in the background.

“Look what you did!” you said in a hushed voice after you passed the student, and Sura just shrugs innocently. 

“You’re going. I have no one else to go with,” Sura said, practically forcing you on the matter. “Please?”

“Fine,” you relented. “It’s not like I’ll let you go have fun all by yourself anyway.”

Sura lets out an excited squeal, making you smile like a mother would at her child. “Yes!”

“But we’ve gotta study for finals first! It’s next week, and it’s Friday already,” you reminded her. 

“Yes mom,” Sura says in a dull voice, taking a 360-degree change, and you chuckled. 

Just at that moment, the bell rings for the start of the next class.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, and both you and Sura made a sprint to the lecture hall.

The weeks of finals went by pretty slowly for you. It was a long and mentally-strenuous process of every student having to sit on the plastic chair while their brain fights the urge to walk --- no, run the hell --- out of the door. But no one does, of course; no one can. We all just sit and write the test, but when your mind was on full freak-out mode it’s hard to remember the little details of what you have been studying overnight for. 

You constantly flexed your numbing hand from writing pages after pages of essay scripts, feeling the pain of your nails digging into the skin of your clammy palms. You didn’t know if it was you, but whenever it was the examination period, the examination halls’ and/or classrooms’ air were stale, sometimes tinctured with bleach. Was it bleach? You weren’t sure. 

But whatever it is, the 2 weeks passed. The school air cleared undoubtedly, for you at least, and your body easily started unwinding --- the tension that was in you dissolving like dust. 

“FINALLY!” someone shouted from across the classroom after the last paper ended, making everyone smile, some laughing. “LET’S ALL PARTY TONIGHT!”

Choruses of hyped-up ‘yeah’s were heard. 

“Whose house is it this time?” Sura asks to no one in particular, but loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear. 

“Mingyu’s!” someone replies, and louder cheers erupted. 

You smiled. The finals after-party was held at Mingyu’s place two years back, and it was the best yet. His house was big, but not too big that you’d get lost, but big. Really. Bigger than your average household, of course. Mingyu is dubbed as the ‘rich kid’ of the cohort, but he’s nice and friendly, not much like typical rich kids.

“Don’t mess it up too much!” Mingyu calls out jokingly from his seat, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. You scoffed lightheartedly. What kind of party wouldn’t be messy? 

“We definitely will!” Soonyoung, the class joker, replies, resulting in Mingyu sticking his tongue out at him before leaving the classroom. It made you chuckle. 

“Hey, let’s go over to my dorm room. I’ve got clothes for you for tonight,” Sura said, her books piling up in her arms. “Needa’ visit the locker to dump these first, though.”

“Sure.” You laughed, slinging your dull, green backpack over your shoulder before taking half the stack of books from Sura, grunting a little at the weight. “Why’d you bring so many books today? It’s the last day.”

Sura sighs, the two of you walking to the locker hall. “I had to do some last-minute revision. I left out an entire chapter. But luckily only one question on it was tested.” She smirks, seemingly quite proud. 

You scrunched up your nose in disgust. “Ugh. Not fair.” 

Sura shakes her shoulders mockingly, and you laugh. She’s such a child. 

You two arrived at her locker, and she opens it, dumping all her books inside --- literally. 

“You’re just gonna throw them in there?” you asked, widening your eyes. 

“Yeah. I don’t need them anymore,” Sura said decidedly, eyeing her pile of books in your hands, and nodding towards the dump in her locker. You chuckled and threw the pile in there, too. Sura quickly shuts the metallic locker door, locking it, and the two of you made your way over to Sura’s dorm. 

Sura had her dorm all to herself, since her roommate had migrated a while back. Lucky her. The dorm was decently big, and being the only one living in it was a luxury. 

 Sura plonks down on her own bed, and you did so on the other empty, unoccupied bed. You sometimes sneaked in after roll-call to bunk with Sura, so this room was pretty much like your own. Your own roommate never told on you. 

“What’s the dress code for tonight?” you asked. Each year was different; to spice it up a bit and make it more significant. There was one year where they jokingly made the dress code to be ball attires, and it was horrendous. The ladies came wearing huge, puffy ball gowns, and there was barely any space to walk. Everyone kept complaining about their dress being stepped on, too. The entire party got cancelled in the end, you heard. You and Sura didn’t go that year, purely because the idea of wearing gowns in this modern era sounded ridiculous to you two. The both of you weren’t the type to use these kind of chances to flaunt. Apparently, no one else in the school had the same mindset at the two of you. It was funny hearing stories about it, actually. 

“Casual,” Sura said, grinning. You pursed your lips in a self-satisfied smile, too. 

“I’m calling on dibs on your hoodie,” you said quickly, running to Sura’s closet. 

“Which?” she asked. 

“I don’t know, the really comfy one?” you said, pushing aside her hanged clothes. You finally spotted the hoodie you were looking for, and pulled it out. 

“This one!” you said, waving it in the air. Sura was about to argue for it, but stopped herself.

“Fine, you take that one, I’ll take the other... um, army green one...” she trailed off, hopping off her bed and walking over to you. She rummages through her closet, before pulling out a hoodie which was simply of a dark grey shade to your eyes. You couldn’t help but run your hands across the fabric. 

“Army green,” you said, letting the words roll of your tongue. “Must be pretty dark.”

Sura smiles. “It is,” she confirms. “Pair it with jeans?”

You nod. “Casual and cute.”

The both of you laugh. Hoodies paired with skinny jeans were your most commonly worn set of clothes. Sura and you were pretty much the same height and size, so clothes were exchanged all the time. She pulls out a pair of ripped light-colored jeans --- you didn’t even know the color of denim --- and you just pull it on, together with the hoodie you had taken out. 

Yes, you were that close with Sura that you two would even change in front of each other. 

“Time check!” you called, fixing your hood.

“We’ve got... 1 more hour till the party starts,” Sura said. 

You pulled a face. “That’s long.”

“Not if we make a trip to Starbucks outside campus,” Sura said, grinning. You returned the grin and the both of you dashed out. Your campus oddly didn’t have a coffee store, unlike most of others, but the other facilities easily made up for it. 

You still needed your daily dose of caffeine, though. The both of you made a super quick trip to Starbucks, before heading for the party.

You and Sura arrived at Mingyu’s house 15 minutes past the starting time, aka 7:15 pm. It was already packed, as you expected, and would fill up more over the next half an hour of so. It’s like that every year. 

Sura spots her boyfriend in the middle of the sea of humans, and nudges you excitedly. You smiled and let her go over. Her boyfriend was one of the ‘special’ recognized guests allowed into the annual parties.

You squeeze through the dark crowd, trying not to trip over feet or knock over anyone’s party cups. Spotting Mingyu at a corner, you waved to him.

“Hey, Mingyu!” you called out. Mingyu turns his attention away from his group of friends to you.

“You’re here!” he walks over, handing you his cup of drink --- which you gladly take. You and Mingyu were pretty close; you two always studied together for upcoming tests. 

You hummed as you downed the unknown liquid hungrily. You hissed a little as the bitter substance burned your throat slightly.

“Vodka?” you questioned. 

Mingyu shrugs. “There’s punch in the back, if you want.” 

You laughed, hitting him lightly. “No thanks.” 

“By the way,” Mingyu said, slightly cautious of his words. 

“Yeah?” 

“...Still black and white, right?” he asks, and you nod, emotionless.

“Someone transferred to our school, and he’s starting next week,” Mingyu told you. “He skipped the finals. And he’s coming today.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “So?” 

Mingyu pursed his lips together. “I mean, I talked to him beforehand. He’s really nice. And you could be lucky this time.” 

You huffed. “I can only wish.” 

You grabbed another cup of vodka from the counter top, sipping on it. You didn’t want to get tipsy too quickly.

Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, and you were surprised that you could actually hear it above the loud music that was being blasted over huge speakers. 

Mingyu checks his cell, and smiles. “He’s here.” 

“Go ahead,” you said, and Mingyu stands up from leaning on the wall. 

“Be right back.” 

You started to wander around the place, with only your half-full cup in hand. It wasn’t easy to get around, of course, with everyone everywhere, but once you managed to escape the crowd, the back of the house was pretty empty. Except for a few people who were just all over the opposite sex. You escaped that too, of course. You didn’t need to see where they were gonna take it to.

You realized that there were random groups of cups of vodka on almost every table you passed, and you took that to your advantage, grabbing a cup whenever you finished yours. You knew you could hold your liquor pretty well, so you didn’t think much about it. 

 “Y/N! Wonwoo’s here,” you heard someone call from behind. You turned around, and something just suddenly seemed to blind you.

The man named Wonwoo, who standing beside Mingyu, was practically glowing. He wasn’t in black and white --- the only shades you have been seeing since forever. It was as if the saturation meter got turned up to its highest setting. His hair was of a certain dark shade, closely resembling the shade of the bark of oak trees, his sweater of a hue that was warm but vivid and vibrant, his jeans in the pigmentation of denim. He was in color. 

When your eyes met, the colors didn’t spread calmly like you had expected all along. Everything around you seemed to slow down as the colors burst from him, swirling like oils and dyeing every other bit of whatever was in your field of vision. 

There was a moment where both of your faces were simply washed blank with confusion, like your brain cogs could not turn fast enough to take in the sight before your very eyes. Every muscle in your body froze, and you could only hear and feel the hard palpitation of your heart against your chest. 

Your other half obviously recovered from the stupefaction faster than you did. A wide grin spread across Wonwoo’s face as he took 2 large strides towards you. He wrapped you in a warm swaddle of his arms and his chest, and pulled you close. Despite the temporary heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his.

“I--- You--- That’s---” you stuttered, making Wonwoo chuckle as he hugged you just a little tighter. He didn’t want to let you go.

“Yes, that’s color,” he said, his voice low and comforting to your ears. “I see it.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but dart around the room, observing every single thing. So this was what they called pretty. It was, indeed. 

You pulled away from Wonwoo, and you unconsciously held onto his arms as you looked up at him, into his eyes. 

“Your eyes,” you said softly. It was sparkling. It wasn’t the usual dull, soulless eyes that you’ve been looking into, in others, for the past nineteen years. 

“Brown,” Wonwoo said, smiling gently. “My friends told me it’s brown.” 

You broke out in a wider smile, your hand caressing his cheek lightly. You were amazed, really. But more than that, you felt a odd feeling in you. Something that seemed to knot in your stomach, but made you feel light. 

“I told you!” Mingyu exclaimed from the background, breaking the atmosphere. You look over to him, who seemed more excited than yourself, laughing.

“Get lost!” you said, and Mingyu holds both hands up in defense. 

“I will, to let you two have your own catch-up time,” Mingyu said, winking before walking away. 

You didn’t know that Wonwoo hadn’t gotten his eyes off you yet. When you turned back to him, he abruptly closed the distance between the two of you, pressing his soft lips onto yours. You were taken aback for a moment, but Wonwoo’s arm on your lower back gently pulled you closer, and you let yourself melt into the kiss.

You never felt more fulfilled in your life.

“Hey, I’ve got to go find Wonwoo. That ass said he’ll teach me Math today,” you said. You two said your goodbyes on the phone and hung up.

“What did you call me?” 

You whipped your head around, surprised to see the mentioned person behind you.

“Oh, hi Wonwoo!” you quickly said, smiling sweetly. Wonwoo mimics your smile exaggeratedly, then returns to his expressionless face. 

“I asked, what did you call me?” he repeats lowly, making you want to burst out laughing. 

“An ass!” you sputter, before running down the hallway in a giggly mess. Wonwoo laughs and runs after you, easily catching up and wrapping his arms around your waist from the back. 

“More like the love of your life,” he teases.

“Wonwoo, we’re in the middle of the hallway!” you laugh, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. 

“So?” he said, chuckling. His embrace loosens and you turn around to face him, and he plants a light peck on your nose. You scrunched up your features cutely, making Wonwoo chuckle. 

“Cuddle night?” he asks, and you excitedly nod. 

“I’m up for that anytime.” 

[wildphantasm]

So originally I planned to write a small summary regarding my thoughts about Clive Dove and the ongoing discourse but this turned longer than expected oops. Well, here I go anyway. Just some thoughts about Clive and fandom debates on whether a character is good or not in general. 

First of all, is Clive a good person?   That’s a question with no right answer honestly. Whether a character or a person is good or bad is entirely subjective and depends on the audience point of view, their personal experiences and their own moral standards. If you think Clive is a good person, good for you. If you think he’s not, good for you. But there’s no point in forcing your opinion or point of view onto somebody else because they have reasons for believing what they believe just as much as you have. 

Fandoms, and especially this god-forsaken website, has a tendency to put everything in black and white. But if you’re reading this, I’d encourage you to consider both sides, because people usually have good traits as much as they have flaws. The same goes for characters, because characters are based on people. 

However, whether a flaw can be forgiven or not is, as already mentioned above, entirely subjective. A character performs bad actions to keep the story going because no story can exist without a conflict. But depending on the circumstances of how everything plays out, some people will find forgiving certain characters and their actions easier than other people. Many, many different factors can play into that such as personal experiences, your own moral compass, personal attachment/attraction to the character and so on and so on. 

As such, a person might say “yeah that was bad, but I still like this character because they also did [good action according to their own personal standards]” While someone else might go “I liked them before, but then they did [bad action according to their own personal standards] and now I can’t forgive them” Or maybe they never liked that character at all. That’s completely fine too. Not all characters are meant to be liked and believe me when I say that even the most beloved character is hated by someone out there. Again, it’s all subjective. 

Now putting all of that aside, let’s talk about Clive, because I’ve been pretty general until this point. The elephant in the room is of course that Clive is a mob boss who used the power of his organization in order to trick a fuckton of people into thinking they were trapped in a future version of their hometown and built a death machine in order to level their actual hometown, actually managed to use said death machine and killed hundreds of innocent people in the process, justifying his actions by calling the government and scientists corrupt because they were responsible for the death of his parents and then covered it up, ruining Clive’s life in an instant. Wow. That’s a tough pill to swallow. 

I’m not gonna go over the entire plot of Lost Future again because I’m sure everyone reading this is familiar with it, but we’re talking about a revenge story that ended in mass genocide entirely moved by the grief of a single young man with lots of power and lots of cash to make it happen. Unlike whether or not Clive’s a good person, this is not up to debate. That’s what happened, period. 

Now while it’s undeniable that Clive was the person who executed this horrible but definitely impressive plan, people also like to argue whether or not he was responsible for all of this. And I can’t blame people for arguing about this, because even the game itself seems to be not entirely sure about this. Which brings us back to the black/white morality thinking that’s so deeply rooted in fandoms. 

At the end of Lost Future, Clive’s plan falls apart, but had Layton and co. not gone back to save him he would have most likely died in the explosion caused by his mobile fortress malfunctioning. He was saved, and soon after he was immediately arrested. We never get to see what happened to him after he’s been dragged away and whether or not he’ll get out of jail one day is entirely irrelevant and up for fanfiction authors to decide. We do however get one final confrontation between him and Professor Layton, in which he apologizes and says that he’s ready to make up for his crimes. 

It’s undeniable that Clive feels sorry about what he did and realized that his actions were wrong. Whether or not an apology makes up for all the points stated above is again, entirely subjective. The people Clive killed in the process of his revenge won’t return. It’s undeniable that he caused great harm to lots of innocent people and ironically enough made them suffer just as much as he did when his parents were caught in an explosion they had no connection to. Clive’s entire revenge plot becomes extremely hypocritical if put that way and it’s extremely unfortunate that he only sees the error of his ways when it’s already too late, considering the damage has already been done. 

However, there’s one part of the end that feels like putting oil into the fire of morality discussions and it’s when Claire says that Clive, too, was a victim. And absolutely, he was, because his parents were caught in an explosion and he became an orphan despite having no connection or impact on the time machine experiments that ultimately caused all of this. 

It’s a sentence that shifts the blame, at least partly, from Clive himself to the scientists that caused him pain and ultimately motivated him to form an overly complicated revenge plot. Now whether or not that means Clive is less guilty than he was before is entirely subjective too. 

Now it’s time for my two cents. In my personal opinion, and this is just me talking from my point of view, Clive is still guilty. He’s undeniably a mass murderer and while his motivation ultimately comes from a tragic accident he had no personal impact on, it was his choice to go through with his plan. Clive is obviously traumatized and perhaps to some extend delusional. But he made conscious choices over the course of many, many years in order to set all of this up. Tricked people, lied to them, planned and executed a plan as complex as this. A person who was entirely irrational couldn’t have done that. And nobody forced him to either. Nobody held power over him and forced him into doing all of this. It was all him and him alone. 

However, I don’t think that Clive is an entirely bad person, mostly because of his conversation with Hershel at the very end of Lost Future. It is very clear that Clive isn’t irredeemable. After his plan failed, he saw the error of his ways, apologized and promised to do better in the future. He can’t undo what’s already been done, but he’s willing to shoulder the responsibility and guilt and make up for what he’s done. And that’s believable, in my opinion, because if someone can understand the pain of the victims of Clive’s plan, then it’s Clive himself, considering he himself went through the exact same stuff many many years ago. 

What’s still in the air now is why Clive went through with all of this when he knew best how much harm it would cause. Well, we can’t say for sure, considering we never see Clive explaining it thoroughly, but I feel like it was a mix of many things, mostly desperation and selfishness. As much as Clive tries to disguise his plan as an act of justice and for the very best of humanity, his entire act boils down to how much pain was caused to him. Of course, he’s been working as a reporter and he also talks about how he’s sure other people have been harmed in the same way as he did. In that moment, he sounds genuine and reasonable. He’s fed up with politicians not caring about the pain of the smaller people, but we can’t say for sure whether he’d be the same way if he was never affected by it directly. 

Clive paints himself as a hero of justice. Since we can’t say for sure, there’s obviously a chance that Clive would have been fed up with the government even if his parents were still alive. But considering he was affected by it directly, I’d say that him reading and researching other people’s pain and misery served the purpose to further justify his actions.  As said, Clive falters in the end. Even says that “perhaps part of him was hoping that Layton would stop him”. That very sentence implies that he was uncertain the entire time, even if just on a subconscious level. So at least part of him thought he was wrong, but whenever he found someone new suffering the same way he did he was pulled back into the mindset that he’s doing what’s right. At least that’s how I could imagine how it went down. As said, there’s no real evidence, only implications here and there. 

Additionally, I don’t think that causing harm to innocent people was his number one reason to go through with everything. He says it himself multiple times, that he wants to take revenge on the politicians and scientists that ignore the pain of the smaller people. Then why the giant-scale mobile fortress to level an entire capital? Well, as petty as that sounds, it was most likely for attention.  As said, Clive had been a citizen for a while, worked as an ordinary reporter despite not needing the money. Which means that he had already worked within the boundaries of the laws and achieved nothing impactful at all. Clive hated the system and he hated the higher ups controlling it, because as he had seen over and over again, it was a system that had no space for the pain of the smaller people. So he did something on a much bigger scale, which would surely leave an impact for generations to come. Which would surely attract attention and get the message across. I feel like the fact that this plan was so elaborate and big says so much about Clive’s suffering and how much he wanted to be seen. Nobody could ignore a giant mobile fortress like that. And considering the fact that part of him wanted Hershel to stop him, it seems like a giant cry for help. 

Too bad though that this cry for help brought death and suffering to so many people. Despite the justifications Clive is giving, his plan was at least partly selfish and about his own pain, which is mostly apparent because he was literally willing to step over other innocent people in order to make it happen. What a fucker honestly. 

Now with all of this in mind, the fact that characters can be neither good nor bad, that people’s opinions and morality is subjective and that while Clive’s life was ruined in an accident, he still made conscious decisions that brought death and trauma to an entire city there’s one question left.

It’s whether Clive can and should be forgiven or not. 

And just like whether or not he’s a good person, that’s subjective. End of the story. I’ve laid out all facts and my own speculations based on facts and implications, but I’m not going to change your mind, nor am I planning to. 

Personally, I love Clive. He’s a fantastic villain and I love his character arc a lot. That’s all there is to that. But despite my love for the character himself, I don’t consider Clive to be an entirely good person. He did horrible things, he killed people, he’s selfish, and he can be a downright tricky, manipulative asshole. All traits I’d probably hate to see in a close friend, but since he’s a fictional character meant to play the part of the villain of his story, I think it works perfectly well.  Villains are meant to be problematic. As said, a story can’t exist without a conflict. We LOVE stories because of conflicts, because we want to see how they turn out. A good conflict can only be made possible by a driven villain. And not all villains are entirely bad either. Actually, some good characters may become villains because of a change of heart or because they’ve made a mistake. Conflict can happen in so many different ways, and the more relatable they are the better. 

And while on the topic, another thing that causes discourse in this fandom is that the general audience tends to forgive Clive, and won’t forgive other characters, to which I have to say yet again, it’s an entirely subjective manner. Some people will find it easier to relate to certain characters than others. Some people will find it easier to forgive certain characters than others. And as said, the reasons for that are as many as there are people out there. Some may consider some actions as unforgivable, or perhaps they’ve been hurt by certain actions more than others. All good. Nobody is wrong and trying to force your own moral code down other people’s throats won’t work out so save your breath and stick to the people who can relate to your opinion. 

Ok this was super long, longer than I anticipated but if you’ve read until this point thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day. Fandom discourse like this is stupid and everyone likes/dislikes characters for different reasons. Even if they are reasons you can’t understand and probably never will just accept that not everyone on the internet will agree with you because they had different experiences and have different opinions than you. End of story goodbye.