#I love when demons are presented like lawyers
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Reality Show (Obey Me!)
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Diavolo convinces Lucifer to have him & his brothers do a new demon reality show that revolves around their everyday lives.
»Characters: Demon Bros // ->[Click here for Part 2: Dateables]
»Tags: LUCIFER CAUGHT IN 4K, Shitpost/Humor, Mentions of reader/MC, Husbando Beel Supremacy, Bulleted Style
»Notes: CM = Crew Member ;; Sorry I was gonna upload this sooner but wanted to draw art for it. xD
Lucifer:
"Okay that's enough, go somewhere else."
CM: "We can't, you agreed to this under contract"
sighs
Mildly regretted his loyalty to Diavolo, otherwise he would've never done this
His camera crew was always on edge with him
The show stressed him more than usual
Perhaps there were a few embarrassing moments he would prefer not to talk about
Like pushing a door that said pull, forgetting the word spoon and calling it a tiny bowl on a stick
[Camera peeks through Lucifer's study, recording a smiling Lucifer texting on his phone]
CM: "Who were you texting Lucifer? Was it ___? There's been rumors..."
"I was checking the weather."
CM: "You take selfies for the weather?"
Mammon:
"Hey wait stop recordin' this! Not that what we are doin' is illegal!"
His camera crew had a rough time with him
But it made for good television!
He talked shit about Lucifer the most
"Yeah a lotta people dunno this, but Lucifer cries to me all the time! What can I say, I'm a reliable guy!"[Crew zooms in on an unamused Lucifer in the background]
[Cut to Mammon hanging from the ceiling]
"Can someone get me down from here!? HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS GOIN'!?"
A lot of the crew's clips had shaky movement from running due to multiple mammon situations
They got a great swoon-worthy shot of Mammon gazing lovingly at you
CM: "Maybe you should confess?"
"I'm confessin' to nothin'! Talk to my lawyer!"
CM: "That's not what we- Nevermind."
Levi:
"I already stream online so this isn't any different."
lol
Levi didn't realize they'd be watching his every move
How was he suppose to worship his shrine of Ruri and you in front of them!?
His camera crew couldn't stop cringing around the otaku
it was uncomfortable for everyone
[Camera films secret sweet moment of him awkwardly practicing asking if you want to hang out]
He asked for it to be deleted, it was denied
However his ratings shot up after that clip and the next one:
CM: "Do you have a crush on ___?"
"W-what!? N-no!!! (Incoherent Levi noises and he trips)"
That clip became a viral meme for weeks
I'm talking remixes and everything
In the end his camera crew actually did have a lot of fun with him and they game online together now
Satan:
"Watch your step. Oh, don't touch that!"
His camera crew had a difficult time with him
He managed to avoid them frequently so he wasn't overly present in the show, much to the annoyance of Lucifer and the others
If they did catch him, all the clips looked the same, all he did was read
They did manage to catch him feeding some stray devildom kitties
[Camera zooms in on him in his room with a collared cat on his lap]
CM: "I thought you couldn't have pets?"
"It's not mine. Clearly, I can't control what comes in my room as of late."
CM: "It has a collar?"
"Next question."
CM: "What can you tell us about the Anti-Lucifer League?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Next question."
CM: "Okay... viewers want to know what's up with you and ___?"
[Satan opens a book and gets sucked in]
Asmo:
"It's like, Devilgram Live, but longer!"
Most unbothered out of everyone
He did get annoyed when they tried to catch him before he could start his morning beauty routine
He was scary, they caught it on camera...it was the only time the crew deleted a clip on a brothers request
Overall his crew had an easy time, it was standard to what they normally do, Asmo himself was fun
He was a natural, of course everyone loved him, who wouldn't?
Was the one to start drama for the sake of tv
Nothing too crazy just messed with Luci's schedule, got Mammon arrested, hid Levi's Ruri body pillow, little things really!
[Camera catches Asmo cuddling next to you]
CM: "You seem very fond of them!"
"I am! Oh maybe we can do like a one year WEDDING special later on!?"
Beel:
"Just don't get in my way I guess."
He wasn't really on board with the idea but not much he could do
His crew had an average time with him, he was easy and chill to film
They caught him doing a lot of activities like, cooking/baking, sports, gaming, it was surprising to viewers
His work out clips got a lot of views too, he was a busy demon
They filmed him helping around the house, even cleaning your room and leaving you little gift snacks
CM: "Wow, snacks? You must really like ___!"
"Yeah. I love them. I want to give them the world."He confidently admitted, smiling brightly
Had high ratings in the polls, the show gave everyone a new perspective of him who wasn't just a gluttonous beast
Belphie:
CM: "Is he breathing?"
"Zzz..."
The crew had an easy but boring time with him
There's only so many hours of a sleeping Belphie you can record
The were some soft serene moments with him,Beel and you, gazing at the stars
[Camera catches him sleeping, smiling and mumbling something about you]
CM (poking): "Belphie wanna share what you were dreaming about? We heard you call their name. "
"Only if the network agrees to air it unfiltered. It will be very descriptive."
CM:
CM: "That's a wrap guys."
⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me shitpost#obey me humor#obey me headcanons#obey me hcs#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me fic#obey me crack#obey me imagines#◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#shitpostcifer
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12
In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED, send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song.
Song number 12: Love the way it hurts by Cloudy June
Oh, your demons match my ghosts
Twin spirits... That was the conclusion the raven haired had came to after listening to Minjun's story about his past and the unfortunate love story he'd gone through. It was interesting how two seemingly completely different people, with completely different backgrounds, could share soo much in common, from a complicated family background characterized by messy games of power and the iron fist of parental authority, to the tragedy of losing their first loves in an unfortunate turn of events that would make said people haunt them to this day (even if the circumstances were different for each one of them, as well as the nature of the "haunting").
I'm sad as fuck you know
When Minjun told him that he couldn't let go of Joowan because he was his very first ever love, the information kind of struck a sensitive chord buried deep within Xuan's heart and soul. He could relate in a way with the lawyer's pain and struggles with moving on, because he too was haunted by a similar ghost: while he didn't lie about Cheng being some sort of 'ex', the man wasn't Xuan's only friend he'd ever gotten involved with in a seemingly romantical way.
The two had another friend with whom they both were very close, a boy named Xia, and while Xuan didn't love Cheng in a romantic manner, he did bear this kind of feelings for this boy; feelings he was too young back then to be able to fully understand what they were or what they meant, but which made Xia be the closest thing to an actual crush Xuan had ever experienced. Unfortunately, Xuan lost Xia when they were still kids, the young man dying at the ripe age of 13 and leaving the at the time 12 year old Xuan with a grueling sense of survivor's guilt. And to this day, the green eyed man blamed himself for Xia's death even if it wasn't his direct doing, living under the impression that anyone he'd grow to love ever again would end up suffering a similar fate, which made Xuan swear that he'll never love again.
You can always make it worse
Yet, cut to the present, and the time spent in the company of this stunning and clever lawyer made Xuan feel a kind of tingle he hadn't felt in literal years, something he never thought would be possible ever again. That strong feeling of compassion and empathy he felt for Minjun, paired with his respect for this handsome man's strong will and determination, had made Xuan develop a keen liking for his new business associate. In other words, he was starting to develop a new crush. But was he ready to accept this kind of feelings in his life? Was Xuan ready to allow himself to love again and welcome this still unknown feeling to nestle into his stone cold heart?
Baby I need you
I need your claws on my neck
I need your bitter red wine lips and dirty regrets
I need your hunger
Feels like you're tying me up
I'm begging you for your love
Begging you for your love
Before he realized it, Xuan had already started to slowly fantasize about him and his lawyer, and that did not include the business framework in the slightest! He couldn't take his mind off of Minjun's charming smile, his charismatic voice and the way his pretty lips looked soo kissable! It was strange feeling like this for someone so suddenly after he hadn't ever caught any semblance of such cravings for anyone else in literal years, not even for Cheng, with whom he had an intimate relationship after all...
Maybe it was the fact that Minjun kind of reminded him of Xia, in a way? It was true, he had black hair and brown eyes like his long departed friend, but so did many other people he'd interacted with in the past and he hadn't developed any displays of lust like this for them. Or maybe it was Minjun's charisma and very kind and selfless nature that reminded him of the young man? Xuan didn't know, but it frustrated him nevertheless. He wanted something from Minjun, that he could tell, but what exactly that something was, heck if even he knew!
Interesting enough was that the lawyer seemed to be interested in him too, or that's what Xuan thought from watching him closely during their conversations. It was bad! This only served to fuel those weird feelings and desires he was having even further! Should he even try to initiate something...?
Xuan shook his head in frustration, sighing and leant back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. Was it even worth it? What if he tries to initiate something romantic with him and Minjun rejects him? Not only would he end up hurt (especially his pride and ego), but that would also risk ruining their business relationship as well...
The raven haired heaved a deep sigh, wondering why things had to be soo complicated? And even if let's say, Minjun were to actually return these feelings of attraction, there was still the issue of his stalker ex boyfriend... Xuan furrowed his eyebrows remembering about what Minjun had told him: Joowan was a murderer and if he'd deem Xuan as competition, he might attempt 'eliminating' him the best way murderers know...
But how can I make me not want you now?
Can I make me not go to your house?
But when was he ever afraid of death to begin with? Xuan let out a self-ironic snort. The idea sounded soo stupid in comparison to his lifestyle: he was dealing with the threat of death on a daily, such was the life of a powerful mob leader such as himself. So what was one more assassination threat on top of the already long list looming over his head? Xuan wasn't a scarredy cat. He'd never fret in the face of danger and that wasn't something that would change now. If he wanted Minjun, he could've as well gone for it! Xuan wasn't going to let anyone get in his way and if worse came to worse, he was sure that at least he could rid the lawyer of this annoying pain in the ass.
Baby I crave you
I crave your taste in the night
(...)
And it's rushing from my feet to the back of my head
That thought in mind, Xuan smirked to himself a sinister smile. Yeah, he wasn't going to back down and give up that easily! When he wanted something, he was the type of man that wouldn't refrain from doing almost anything to get that something and if that bastard was even going to think to stand between him and Minjun, Xuan was going to show Joowan what it meant challenging the Green Eyed Death himself.
So yeah, he was going to actually go to Minjun house tonight and finally do what he's been craving to do for quite a while now. Once that decision set, there wasn't turning Xuan back from it and he was going to make sure that nothing, and really nothing, would stand between him and his goal! Those were the very thoughts traversing Xuan's mind as he stared at the shiny revolver glistening in the dim light of the study, before placing it in its holster, concealed nicely underneath his shirt and pants at his back.
Oh, your demons match my ghosts
I'm sad as fuck you know
You can always make it worse
But I love the way it
Hurts and maybe that's my curse
Come and drag me through the dirt
You can always make it worse
But I love the way it hurts
It hurts
It hurts
But I love the way it hurts
It hurts
Oh it hurts
Indeed, they were twin spirits attracting one another and for that reason they should have been together... Xuan wan't one to give up without a fight and even if this would've ended up hurting him in any shape or form, he was more than willing to take that pain. After all, wasn't he the type who liked a little bit of pain anyways?
Cheeky grin played at the corners of his lips and his emerald eyes shined with the glow of a hungry predator ready to go after its pray, as the raven haired exited the office. Let the hunt of the night begin!
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spoilers from the interlude chapter: act II of the perilous trail!!
edited - important notice 📢
"don't blame me, love makes me crazy" but xiao version!!
you're an adeptus and morax entrusted you to conquer the evil that lies on the chasm and guard it. the darkness of the chasm was not for you all to ignore.
you sometimes roam around liyue when trouble is not present at the moment.
then when the qixings decided to involve themselves in the chasm for business, you welcome them in silent and protect them to a distance.
once morax stepped down of his throne, you join the fun of your fellow adeptus to travel. of course you still guard the chasm from time to time.
then in the present where yanfei, yelan and the others fall on the predicament without your notice but then fate seem to have it's own plan. you crossed paths with the conqueror of demons and then you noticed the familiar aura on the male that wasn't involved with his karmic dept.
so you followed him.
and he lead you to the depths.
however when you arrived in the chasm's bed, no one's there. you're quite late though but you can sense their presence. especially xiao's.
dear archon, you have a job to do.
and it wasn't that easy as you thought.
you decided to follow xiao first so you'll regroup with others later and get them out but the darkness are playing tricks with you too.
you're one of a seasoned adeptus and you're experienced with the illusions of the chasm. but the space is so desperate on separating you from xiao.
so you decided to go for the group.
after tries of getting contact with them, you finally made it when they're on the middle of solving a puzzle.
you help them and while assembling the mechanics, you can't help but to worry xiao's well being. the chaos was hard to bare for anyone especially to you too even you know how to cut through the illusions.
what you didn't expect was there's some sort of a telegram that you all able to talk to xiao.
but you know that's your cue to move.
before the fissure disappeared, you quickly entered and expected to meet him there but you were landed on the different area.
you didn't know that danger awaits for your arrival.
"a lot's happened here. But this wasn't just for our own safety. you're injured, we can't just leave you alone." yanfei stated. "yeah. y/n seriously went to find you and help them to get us all out." then the traveler added. xiao widen his eyes in fright.
"y/n's here too? and it's just a flesh wound. i am fine. i shouldn't let myself burden you and i have to find them before--" the traveler held his arm to stop him.
"y/n went to the spacial rift when we're communicating with you first. i guess they landed somewhere. and you're not a burden. don't think that for one second. we need you. for y/n and our sake, please stay here." the lawyer pleaded.
oh no. how tables turned. you're now in trouble as xiao made back safe to the group.
xiao knows you're competent of handling the situations in the chasm. and you're an adeptus! still, there's a constant of anxious pit on his stomach.
normally he doesn't mind with other adeptus managing the problem but he hesitate to let you burden your duties. was it because that the dangers on chasm are unavoidable? or maybe he is worried on other way around.
oh how many years you spent with him, imprinting a lot of memories. you leave a big mark to his heart with morax and the traveler. he have a desire to protect you from afar.
then there's another spacial rift, surprising them again with your figure was shown.
"i won't... let you kill them.." you huffed heavily. you sound like you're fighting with someone.
"seeing you in pain like this is amusing. even you're an experienced adeptus, you won't get out to this void. plus aren't you tired jumping around to find your little yaksha?" there's a familiar voice added. xiao isn't happy to know you fighting him alone.
"you're assigned the responsibility of the chasm by morax himself and yet you failed.." then the rift suddenly disappeared. equipping his mask, xiao was about to follow but once again stopped him.
"xiao wait! if you wander off again, they might lure you to a trap once more. we'll get them don't worry. just get some rest first." yanfei and yelan convinced him again.
"y/n will be able to get out from there. have faith on them." and the traveler joined.
xiao could only look at the direction where your form was showed on the rift earlier. you don't like him do anything recklessly here anyway so right now, he'll do whatever other wish. you better make it out alive.
how is your pulls on the current banners? congrats getting one of them or two!! but if you're one of the unfortunates, don't give up and farm for more primos! manifesting for you guys~
and don't be afraid correcting my mistakes!!
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#xiao x reader#x reader#xiao#genshin headcanons#headcannon#pamcake's writings 🥞
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ello meat! do you have any new hcs for ej and the trapper??
Hmmm lets see :3
EYELESS JACK
How I see it eyeless jack seems different from a couple others, but maybe some people have thought the same!!
Jack is a person who had become possessed by evil (Demon, Devil, Spirit, Etc.) but no one really knows which evil it is.
Eyeless Jack in my verison is actually a successful vessle sacrifice! The vessle itself has completely lost all awareness and ego which has been replaced with whatever Jack is.
Technically, Jack isn't even his name :0]. The name was swipped from an Author.
Jack enjoys literature immensely and will regularly take books from homes and libraries (returning the library books though)
He's a yapper, bro can't shut the fuck up even in tense situations.
He can eat only meat and only raw. This actually includes anything that just isn't a plant: seafood, livestock, and humans are all easily digestable to him.
He however enjoys a human kidney the most!
Jack isn't actually all that shy. He loves fear in the taste of meat so he will regularly lift his mask to scare people more than with it on.
As he is eyeless, Jack sees in light and dark patches and is extremely sensitive to light levels.
The sap/tar-like substance in his eyes can actually be seen through, making him able to spread out his limited vision over a wide area.
As long as the tar stays wet (and takes very long to dry anyways) hes able to see through it as though its his own vision!
Jack isn't able to process others emotions. He understands emotion and is able to describe it but all his information comes from stalking/hunting victims and books. Interaction isn't great.
He can be degrading most of the time and loves to start shit (between two other people not just with him) but its almost weirdly able to make you talk to him
Jack, while he doesn't actually understand this, has a constant mental haze around his person. He is able to lull others into spilling out more and speaking their mind because of this ability. It isn't controllable and is just a constant.
Jack will sometimes get the vessles memories, but completely disregards them and even sometimes insults them because he finds the lingering possession more fun than sad.
He is completely obsessed with anatomy. It is his ultimate interest and will just explore anatomy of any living thing only to explain it to others later. This has gotten him the (unofficial and morally questionable) role of doctor
His room has taxidermy animals (created by Zero) and bug collections (made by Jeff) with some being present in the infirmary/office.
He loves making deals with victims who try to barder for their life and then chastises them "is your life worth so little?" "Do you find yourself that important?" "Shame you can't think grander." And much else
THE TRAPPER
April is so evil man. You can say it isn't her fault because of her father but she herself admits she's going straight to hell and even regularly insults God and Death about their inability to take her life.
April, after escaping prison, returned a month later to the men's side to brutally murder her father in his cell. (They were kept in the same facility)
She then murdered her lawyer (Easter), the prosecutor (Father's Day), and the Judge and their entire families (Christmas) because she absolutely hated the fact she was put on death row when her father only got life.
She keeps herself in bogs, swamps, and marshes and can trasport between the places as she pleases.
April will regularly let herself be murdered by her victims to allow them some feeling of victory because she finds their terror knowing shes alive after all the better.
April is an amazing cook and will seak out recipes to try out anytime she can.
April finds everyone to be a meal and will even categorize people into dishes she'd cook them into.
Being The Trapper she has riddled and even loaned out traps. All her traps are made with the intent of causing as much pain and blood loss as possible to the recipient and does tests on them herself to prove effectiveness.
She is a lover of pain and blood.
She has regular arguments with her superiors (proxies) and is an all around pain in the ass to deal with but she can't refuse a single thing they say.
She works hard and works efficiently, unless she's bored then she's fucking around and even killed in broad, crowded daylight considering she's already a convict.
Ghost Boy (Titus) is her immediate boss and has a very brash and unloving relationship with the man. She tries to get under his skin regularly and even invades his space until he snaps at her to die.
Guns are her favorite thing in the whole world (just behind her husband) and has a vast collection. The gun she uses the most is a 4 gauge which she keeps in prime condition. The gun is named Harvey after her late husband.
Harvey is the only person in April’s entire life that she considered a true love. To this day she will wear her wedding ring (Harvey's had been taken by his family) and will always fight tooth and nail to keep it in her possession.
While not canon (BONUS)
Eyeless Jack and April hang out regularly and enjoy meals together.
The two are absolutely menaces in any situation together.
April would be an (un)honory doctor along side Eyeless Jack as she had gone to collage for medical before being arrested.
#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta#creepypasta oc#the trapper#eyeless jack#people being interested in my ocs???? holy shit#fuck yes
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Still more thoughts about Tears of the Kingdom (SPOILERS! like seriously. in this one)
I love this game
So much
I had to find a guy for a quest but was like
"Im going to check out this well first"
AND BOOM HE WAS THERE
Alao the brown breakable rock break with one hit, blue with two and black with three
Seemingly
Matches the bombs it takes to break them
Tulin, whose village is dying, watching me search for pretty clothing
"Link please my family is dying Link we have to go Link"
The frostbite set is stunning
Finally a hairdo that lets Link have long hair
I hate the Sages
Not really but my god did they make their AI absolute trash
Theyre always in the way except when you need them to solve a puzzle
And if you have more than one Avatar present good luck getting the one you need
I HATE THE WIND TEMPLE BOSS
Not as much as I hated Queen Gibdo but
Why was crossing a spider and scorpion necessary
"Brave Fledgling" what if I cried
Tulin is so good
So is this making it canon that the time 10 000 years ago was still after every other game
I dont know the timeline is weird
But if there was both Zora and Rito at the time of Rauru
This is so confusing
Ive both heard and seen Rauru sacrifice himself multiple times now can these dead Sages give me new info
Zelda my beloved
Marry me please
Also so the only other Demon King we have ever had was Demise so is Ganondorf him or after him
WHAT IS THE TIMELINE HERE
The Sage calls Tulin "my brave fledgling"
Someone call me something so loving one day
Tulin is so excited to be a Sage
He is so happy to fight alongside Link
Hes so happy to save the world
I love him
What a boy
Boys will be boys is from now on only about Tulin
WAIT IS EVEN HE TALLER THAN LINK
Shortest Hylian
I got a third ring
Bring a gerudo bow to this boss fight if you can it makes life so much easier
I havent been to Death Mountain at all yet
Done all other Temples and fully mapped Hyrule before ever going near Gorons
The extra snow melted
TEBA GAVE TULIN THE GREAT EAGLE BOW
IM CRYING
REVALI IM SO PROUD OF OUR BOY *shakes the ghost of Revali*
PSSHHH YUNOBO LOOKS DUMB AS SHIT
I HATE HIM
Was already my least favorite in BOTW
But now he is a major asshole too
Fuck that
Bastard
Im not helping him
Im gonna go blow up his company
If this guy becomes a Sage I swear
I'll drown him in Death Mountain myself
The ember headdress is probably the best headpiece in the entire game
The Ember set is genuinely the best set
Its so pretty
Im gonna go see what these look like dyed
After that beating up Yunobo
But fashion comes first
IF YOU DYE THE EMBER HEADSET IT DYES LINKS HAIR
BLUE HAIR LINK
PINK HAIR LINK
BEST DAY EVER
THE SAME GOES FOR THE FROST OUTFIT
I love Cece
She is the only person matching my love of fashion in this game
I just realised why the evil Zelda is wearing Zonai clothes
Omg
Smart
Or maybe Im dumb
"Oh Yunobo was wearing a mask making him evil" no Yunobo is just like that
This sucks I hate everything to do with Death Mountain
Worst place
I have to use the machines AND GO TO THE DEPTHS??? NOOO
Nintendo you will be hearing from my lawyers
When I die Im going to ask Rauru wtf were the Zonai doing in the depths
No because if youre going to have a cutscene and then make a second cutscene three steps further just fucking make it one cutscene
Yunobo is a "young little rock"
Left that for now
Found Champions leathers
Found Royal Guard boots??
They were in the king's study
King's diary wasnt there so like is it canon Zelda was able to read it?
Misko was a good guy actually, hiding all these clothes for me
Me, in the depths: I wonder where this strange Sheikah tower leads
The Yiga hideout in Akkala:
The only ancient sheikah tech still working is Hateno Tech Lab travel point
I spent some time in the depths and FOUND THE ANCIENT CENTRAL MINE
Fought Kohga
GOT AUTOBUILD
Finally the shrine censor
And travel medallion? You treat me so well
Already had that prototype
ALSO GETTIN SENSOR+ IMMEDIATLY
Badass feeling
Omg Robbie's compendium database is so cute
Got all three upgrades immediatly
Fully stocked purah pad
WAIT THREE TRAVEL MEDALLIONS???
BASED
MY FAVORITE MONEY MAKER IS BACK
I like to kill the hebra great game because they drop gourmet and prime meat and cooking those and they sell for a good price
Horse and bullet time
Many coins
Zelda's memories are so sad
Been giving my friends a fashion show of my favorite clothing
I am again so gay for Sonia and Zelda
My god
ZELDA
BABYGIRL
ZELDA I FORBID THIS
ZELDA YOU YOU
ZELDA
ZELDA
NO NO NO NO NO DONT
MY DEAREST ZELDA
ZELDA
MY LOVE
I am sobbing crying screaming
Im so upset
Zelda being the light dragon is so unfair for her
She deserved happiness and freedom
Not losing her humanity and personhood
YOU CAN MAKE ELEMENTAL WHIPS
Kinky
I went into the strange thunder cloud
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS
Why is it taking me into the depths
Not again
Alright Sage of Spirit
I'll make your mech suit for you
That took a while
But owl head statue
Mineru my beloved
Oh.my god this is hell
Worst part of this game so far
EASILY
DONT MAKE ME FUCKING CONTROL THIS WHEN THE CONTROLS ARE THE WORST THING EVER CONCIEVED
Im leaving this temple also undone I DONT CARE THIS FUCKING SUCKS
I hate it
Fuck this
Why do game devs come up with shitty awful bad as hell stuff to do in their games AND MAKE THAT MANDATORY
I just quit the game no lie
Fuck that
I did it and I was being dramatic, it wasnt that hard
Mineru is so goddamn gorgeous
They designed this game for me specifically
I should get back to drawing furries
Mineru holding my hand which is her brother's hand
Tears
Mineru I love her
I have not beaten Fire Temple yet
I just cant
Depths
Darkness and puzzles and fire
Also dont like Yunobo
I feel so bad for Mineru
Zelda :(
Why doesnt Link get a secret stone
RAURU WAS MINERU'S LITTLE BROTHER ::'ÖÖ
Where did Zelda's special stone come from when its a time stone and Ganon stole Sonia's time stone
Mineru I will not go get the Master Sword
Demon Ganon is hot idc
RAURU WHY WOULD YOU
Ganon: "Link. I look forward to meeting him" goes into slumber
Damn all of Rauru disintergrated but his hand
I have to find the light dragon
Eugh
The dragons dont have schedules in this apparently
Sadly
Mineru so was in love w Zelda
Everyone is putting too much weight on Link's shoulders
Fine I'll finish the fire temple
*2 hours later* I hate it here
I did scam those puzzles as much as I could
Worst puzzles
Worst boss too
Marbled gohma
Fucking awful
I nearly died about 11 times
Rip my food storages
I really need to cook more
Special stone for Yunobo booo
Little rock is adorable pet name tho
Ancestor Goron is fine af
WHY DOES NO ONE MENTION THE DIVINE BEASTS BUT YOU CAN FIND THE DIVINE BEAST HELMS AND NO ONE MENTIONS THE BEASTS
Ive heard this story four times now
Fucking hell cant we get anything new
Someone give me a 200k word fanfic where Ganon awakens but is not evil
I need Ganon Zelda Link friendship
End the cycle
Watching Brian David Gilbert and Unraveleds rn
LMAO YUNOBO'S SPECIAL STONE IS ON HIS DICK
We have established this is not a PG channel
Ok fine I like Yunobo
Daruk was better tho
Ive found most memories why cant I say anything to these people about thats not Zelda
I know Zelda is the light dragon
Running around Hyrule Castle for 'Zelda'
About to do bossfight w Ganon
Can I do a flurry rush? No
I just hit or die
Life is like that
No clever tactiques just caveman brain and trying
Evil "Zelda" is fun
Why is Ganon like one of those movie posters here
Why is he still not rehydrated
Ganon I have dick to suck hurry up
"You will not live to see another sunrise" Ganon the sun is rising rn
Woo Phantom Ganons
Fuck yeah
Lets see if I can kill them aka can I finally take on Gloom Hands (I wont)
Ganon's so arrogant
YAY MY FRIENDS ARE HERE
FUCK YEAH
I LOVE YOU ALL
MY SAGE BUDDIES
Not Lynels
Still the hardest enemy in game
Ok so if youve found Mineru and have the Master Sword already, the convo after the fake Ganon fight Purah goes "Youve already found the fifth sage? AND you have the master sword? Why didnt you say so before"
Usually youd get quests for those
It was funny
Why is the limit of horses I can have ten ::((
The Charged shirt is actually so so slutty I love it
IT GLOWS IN THUNDER STORMS
FUCK YEAH
So I finally cleared The Deku Tree's little stomach bug
And like it is so funny how easy the Gloom Hands and Phantom Ganon become when youre in late game
I was sweating about it and then it was so easy
And Im bad at combat
Ok not to brag but I killed a white lynel. First time ever. Also first time ever I killed a lynel without Urbosa's help
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I love the idea of Hook falling first so, so very much. Maybe I just like the tough, badass being whipped for the goofball, sunshine but it’s just so nice.
Like, to imagine Danhausen carelessly going about and seeking out Hook for his all mighty power. He doesn’t notice how Hook goes flush when he’s near or the small smiles the cold hearted devil gives him when he’s chattering away.
At first Hook is so irritated. He wants to be left alone and Danhausen does anything but that. He doesn’t understand why the demon is so damn persitant. And then finally Hook decides to give him his match. Because maybe ome good ass kicking will get the demon off his back.
And then the attack with Tony Nese and his lawyer happens.
And Danhausen is asking for Hook to be in his corner. And even when Hook shoves him away after being touched, Danhausen offers a gift. A bag of chips.
Then, then there’s a change in his heartbeat when he stares down at the chips. For his birthday. The demon had got him a present for his birthday. And even wrapped them with a bow.
Hook ignores it. He leaves the chips in the ring and he ignores it.
But he can’t, not when he’s watching Danhausen being beaten to a pulp by Tony Nese. Not when the match is over and Nese is still going, looking to prove a point. When Nese pulls down his knee pad, Hook is up and acting on pure instinct.
And then Danhausen offers his hand once more. Hook tries to say it’s because he hates guys like Nese, its because he got attacked too and this would benefit him by making a statement, but really it’s because Danhausen is holding his jaw and looks so so desperate. And all Hook wants to do is protect him.
So he shakes Danhausen’s hand and ignores how he doesn’t want to let go.
And then they win the match, Hook lets Danhausen get the pin just because of how excited he looks.
And he lets Danhausen raise his hand.
And he looks at Danhausen with the sweetest smile and the fondest eyes, forgets he’s on camera, forgets his whole cold hearted devil act, because Danhausen is right next to him and all he can do is smile like an idiot.
And later when he’s in his hotel room and icing his sore body, he thinks fuck i like him.
It doesn’t take long until Danhausen is falling too, of course. But until then Hook resorts to looking at him and smiling and keeping him in his corner for however long he can.
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My RL Sims-Story (18+)
!CW! Addiction, Drugs, Drug use, Adult themes
I couldn’t sleep with P.! He comes here after almost two months of breaking up with me and the first thing he does, was push me on my bed to undress me. 😦 🤷♀️ Besides, I had something going on with D. & I liked him! I only spent that one night with Daniel. But we have continued to see each other in the last few days and Idk? He’s...cute 😬 and he just did me good!! Yeah, except for the fact, that he was hooked. I know!... I was SOO confused and SAD about N. after P. told me 2 weeks ago, what he said to him. It hurt me so much to know, what was going on with N.. He still felt responsible for everything that happened and he didn’t want to take me away from Philip, that’s why he started to date Melanie’s sister in law!
And that night with P.....it felt good to be with him again, it just felt right! As if I were with the person I (actually) belong with. But today I know that this was not really right. Philip was not the one for me, it’s someone else.
But back to the past! I asked Philip to STOP! He looked at me confused and ....frustrated! 🤦♀️ I swear, he’s so crazy! 🤨
⚠ !CW! Drug use, Adult themes ⚠
Me: Stop, P.! 😠
Philip: Why?.. I want you so much! 😏......Damn, why do you reject me? I mean-...do you know how that feels? 😩
Me: Excuse me? 😦 You know how I feel??...And I don’t give a shit about your horny dick! 😠
Philip: Since when? 🤨 Usually you like to take care of....me! And you know better than anybody how! You always do it with so much dedication. 😏
Me: Ha? 🤨 😦 Are you possessed by a.... sex demon? You never talk like that!.....I have to go to the bathroom!
Philip: Come on, don’t say it’s time for your skin care shit! I know you, this will last forever!
Me: Ugh! 🤦♀️ Get off me, P.!
Philip: Okay, okay!...Fine! 😒
I escaped to the bathroom because I felt totally overrun by Philip! 😒 When I was in the bathroom, I saw my drugs that I hid there. Actually, I have not taken anything for 2 days. But I thought, FUCK IT! Two days were break enough! And after a while, Philip came to me and it looked like, he was back to NORMAL!! 🙏
Philip: Are you hiding from me? I promise, you don’t have to get out of my way, I won’t touch you!! I’m sorry, I was so....well, you know what I mean.😕
Me: WHY the hell are you here P.? 😠 I felt better, you know? 😢 You can’t just show up here and expect me to sleep with you! I know we have promised each other, that we will stay together forever! But this does not mean that you can always have me!
Philip: This was not my intention and I love you sincerely. I just missed you so terribly, that’s all! But I got it! I didn’t act correctly, especially after what happened... But as it seems, you haven’t learned anything either, A.. 🤨 What kind of pills are these?....Oh, I see! It’s the good stuff! Some kind of morphine. Did you crush the pills?
Me: What should I say? You know me!
Philip: Who gave you this? It certainly wasn’t your doc! And you know, you can overdose if you crush pills!
Me: And there it is again! That smug look on your face. I can see your left eye twitching! You’re about to go crazy again.
Philip: No, I’m not going crazy and I don’t want a fight! I’m just worried about you! And I’d like to stay with you to help you, but I don’t think, you want this? And I’m sorry I was so mean to you when you were with me. I was so desperate and didn’t know what to do? I know you have questions, ask me!
Me: I don’t wanna talk with you P.! Just....go! 😠
Philip: I can’t! 🤷♂️ And since I know you don’t like to talk, I’ll just tell you what interests you. I met Isabella and her parents, that’s why I’m here, I took that paternity test, the Baby came three weeks early. A lawyer and a notary were also present, who documented everything. Isabella’s parents wanted to be sure & know exactly who I am and if the baby was actually mine. 🤨
Me: I’m so sorry for this, P.! And Idk why, butI don’t like the way they... treat you? I’ve seen how arrogant Isabella’s family is. Were you alone with there?
Philip: No....Nico was with me. 😕 😔 I just didn’t want to burden you with it and it felt weird after I ignored you for so long to .....ask you. But only you & N. know about it. I told him everything when he was visiting me at my new college.
Me: It’s okay P.!....Ugh, now I know why Isabella called me the other day. I bet she wanted to know if we were still together. But you have to take care of your Baby if it’s yours.
Philip: Yeah, but... I just don’t want to think about it, I don’t want a Baby with Isabella! If you were pregnant, I wouldn’t act like that. I swear, A.!
Me: I know! 😞 But I just can’t forget what happend when I visited you. 😢
Philip: There was nothing between Natasha & me! I even changed my room after you left! I didn’t want to hang out with her and Simon. I just couldn’t stand it in this room! I was so pissed and hurt! And all your messages and calls, A. I only noticed when Nico flew back home. I turned off my phone! I-..I was afraid I would see another pic of you & Daniel again which you or anyone else posted.
Me: I’d never do this! And you know, ever since Nico got in trouble with soccer, when I posted pics of us, I even stopped using my social media!! And I only used our Insta account, that you & I had together. Victoria posted these fucking pics! NOT ME!
Philip: But what do we do now A.? And why can’t you sleep with me?
Me: I felt stupid! Like such a...fool. And who knows who you’ve been in bed with, in the last few weeks, I know you! 😒
Philip: This is ridiculous! If I had slept with someone else during the last weeks, then I wouldn’t have acted like-.... I just did before. But maybe you slept with someone else? Right?.. ... Stop, A.! You don’t run away now! Look at me and answer my question.
Me: WHY? You just want to fight with me, like you did a few weeks ago.
Philip: NO! I don’t wanna fight! I can see you’re not feeling well, so I’m gonna stop bothering you with questions like that. Let’s just... be together while I’m here. Tomorrow morning, I have to fly back. And maybe we should stop talking about these things in the future, who we met or not. I just want to lie next to you in bed until I have to leave tomorrow.
Me: Okay?...But, yeah, that’s....fine.
After that, we went back to bed, I was so high that I was constantly drifting away as usual. I had a good feeling with P. in my bed. Just like when he was with me all the time and we were here in my room every day together.
I knew Philip wasn’t really sleeping. I wanted to turn to him and hug him, but before I could do, he did.
Philip: I love you! I'm not leaving until you sober up.
Me: I don’t want to be sober.
Philip: And don’t worry about Nico! I told him why Dominick was in your apartment after you explained everything to me on the phone. And If you want, I’ll ask him to come back to you. I think you need him now. I just wish, I could stay with you, but I’ll come back, I promise! And if you need me, I’ll be there! Even if it’s about those damn drugs... You know, A.? I don’t feel good about what you’re doing. I’m afraid you won’t get out of...where you are now. 😟 And before you do anything stupid or get into any trouble, just call me please! I’m not gonna be mad at you or tell you what to do. I’m just gonna be there. Did you hear?
Me: Yeah. And don’t tell N. to come back to me. As long as he knows, I didn’t want to hurt him, I’m fine with this. And actually, he deserves the chance to get happy, even if it’s not with me.
Philip: You did absolutely nothing wrong A.! He knows, trust me!
Me: How is his new girlfriend?
Philip: Um, Idk?🤥... I mean, I didn’t met her yet. She’s nice he said. But what he said right away, was, that she’s not like you. 😕
Me: As long as he doesn’t get the stupid idea, that YOU should go to bed with her like you did with me, I don’t care!
Philip: NO! 😄 Trust me! We both know that was really stupid what we did.
After a while we both fell asleep, but I woke up!...What will my parents think of me, I wondered? 😩 They’re gonna think I totally went nuts! When I was about to wake P. up to tell him, to sneak out later without running into my parents, I watched him sleep for a while. I didn’t want to let him go with the feeling, that I didn’t want him anymore. 😟
Philip woke up immediately. He thought I had a nightmare. I was so clinging to him. I then told him, that I wanted to sleep with him because I love him. 🤦🏻♀️
Philip: You are not obliged to sleep with me just because I am with you. I know you, A.! You think you have to do this. I mean... I’m not saying no 😕 🤷♂️ , but you get what I mean.
Me: Shut up, P.! 🤨......I can’t just let you go like....this! And I want you, too!
We just did it and it was the same as always, as if he had never been gone. I was no longer angry with Philip. Still, we both knew, we wouldn’t manage to have a relationship with each other while he was abroad. We were both much too jealous and we would just fight again. We have decided not to talk about this topic anymore. We promised each other, as soon as Philip gets home, we’ll be together forever. Idk why Philip believed so strongly in this idea, I mean, I wanted to believe in it. But soon Philip will learn that the Baby is HIS! Isabella will do everything to make me completely insecure about Philip. And since we were so far away from each other, I lost faith in our promisse. 😢
It was time to say goodbye! I felt even worse than before! I fell back into such a deep hole. Somehow I knew, that all the future plans and wishes that Philip and I had, will never really come true. 😭
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#ts4#sims 4#sims 4 story#my rl with my simself#simself#myrlgameplay#18+ content#cw drugs#cw addiction#cw adult themes
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Sympathy For The Daredevil
By Christine Spines
February 2003
Will a blind lawyer who’s also a crime-fighting vigilante be the next big comic-book movie hero? Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner slip into some tight leather and angsty attitudes to find out.
Grrrrruunt! Snort. Snort. Snort. Snarling and quivering his way into a state of primal rage, Colin Farrell has taken several giant leaps backward along the evolutionary scale in a matter of minutes. His darting eyes and clipped breath give him the air of a fierce animal just let out of its cage as he waits for a chance to unleash a lethal dose of Bullseye, the manic assassin-for-hire he plays in Daredevil, the latest Marvel comic to spring to the screen. Having worked only about 11 days in three months of shooting, Farrell is happy to have been cut loose onto this set built to look like a cathedral of, well, biblical proportions.
Farrell takes a toke on an imaginary joint, and a few beefy grips laugh cautiously as they ready the set. In this scene, Bullseye shatters a stained-glass window with his boot, grabbing the falling shards and hurling them at his arch-nemesis, Daredevil, the titular blind superhero played by Ben Affleck. When director Mark Steven Johnson (Simon Birch) finally calls action, the 26-year-old actor smashes the window, lands with a thus, and begins frantically grabbing fistfuls of air (the shards will be added digitally), which he hurls with all his might at… nobody. Johnson calls cut. Farrell is exasperated. “What am I doing?” the actor says in his native thick Irish brogue. “Fuckin’ break-dancin’?” He twirls around and slaps his knees and heels like a Thriller-era Michael Jackson. It can’t be a good sign when an actor invokes the deposed King of Pop to describe his performance.
Welcome to the all-guts-no-glory world of comic-book action movies, where the actors playing superheroes and supervillains work themselves into a lather to wage war not with each other but with their inner demons – and the far more fearsome prospect of looking downright silly. But stepping into a costumed action-adventure, especially one as full of nuance and ambiguous morality as Daredevil (blind lawyer Matt Murdock by day, crime-fighting vigilante by night), presents a maddening dilemma for the serious actor. It’s hard to resist the temptation to suit up as an icon of popculture mythology in a world in which Spider-Man has become the fifth-highest-grossing movie ever. How else would a lesser-known comic like Daredevilscore such of-the-moment players as Sexiest Man Alive Affleck, Minority Report’s Farrell, and Alias It Girl Jennifer Garner, who plays Elektra, the woman warrior whose designs on Daredevil are nothing short of love or death? On the other hand, there is that pesky business of the job itself, which, for the serious actor, doesn’t feel very serious at all.
While Farrell pretends to throw glass at an imaginary Affleck, the actual star is being primped and primed for his first shot of the day, on a set several hundred yards away. Extra-careful attention is being paid to his nose, which will be responsible for performing his next scene. Daredevil doesn’t really have superpowers, but, because he’s blind, his other senses are turbo-charged. In this case, of course, he smells danger. Affleck’s top half is in character, clad in a skintight red leather jacket complete with built-in ripples and lather headgear that looks like a low-hanging swim cap with devil horns. His bottom half, in baggy gray sweats, is enjoying some time off in this close-up.
Affleck can’t see a thing through his blind-guy mask and passes the time between takes reeling off one-liners to anyone within earshot. This is the gallows humor of the battle-weary or battle-bored. “How’s this for a look!” the 30-year-old actor says, his nostrils flaring the slightest bit. “I know, I know: You’re a fucking gorgeous bastard!” When the cameras roll, Affleck’s mouth and nose twitch wildly for a maximum of 30 seconds. And then his work is done. Affleck slips off his mask and brushes a hand through his matted hair. “We can use that shot for so many things,” he shouts to Johnson. “Just call it, ‘utility sniffer.’” But without much work to do, Affleck, too, looks both exasperated and exhausted. “This stuff is fun, but it’s hard to go for days without any lines. I think we’re doing a good job here but it’s truly hard to walk around day-in, day-out in the costume and keep the shame at bay,” he jokes wearily, heading back to his trailer. “At this point, that’s what I’m shooting for – the moments when the sky parts and the shame is not longer there.”
There may be no character outside of Hamlet or a Morrissey ballad better suited to capture and capitalize on such storms of actorly angst than Daredevil. From his conception in 1964 by Marvel comics mastermind Stan Lee (The Amazing Spider-Man, X-Men, Fantastic Four), Daredevil’s defining characteristic was not his superhuman abilities but rather his disability. “I had done a lot of different characters and they all had problems,” Lee says. “Spider-Man had romantic and financial problems. The Hulk turned into a monster. So it occurred to me that the biggest problem of all would be a superhero who is blind. He’s not invincible, so he’s very easy to empathize with, and that’s important in a hero or in any character you want to become a franchise.”
Daredevil has always been the comic book world’s equivalent of Tommy Lee Jones or Samuel L. Jackson. He has dedicated fans, an enduring shelf life, and a reputation for quality work in a pop medium not always given to such thoughtfulness. But he’s not a superstar. Still, he has always attracted the genre’s most celebrated writers, notably Frank Miller, who took over the title in the early ‘80s and infused it with an operatic sense of tragedy and romance that hooked a generation of teenagers, including Johnson, Affleck, and filmmaker Kevin Smith (who wrote his own run of the comic in the late ‘90s). Miller created Elektra, a liberated woman warrior for Daredevil to grapple with emotionally and physically, and then he broke the cardinal rule of comics: He killed her. “That really screwed me up as a kid,” says Johnson. “You think that can’t happen. You would never see Lois Lane get gutted by Lex Luthor. But when that does happen, you’ve got to pay attention. You go, ‘Wow, I gotta care about this guy because bullets aren’t going to bounce off his chest.’ You don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Much the same could be said for the commercial fate of Daredevil the movie. As the first comics-based movie to be released since Spider-Man became a phenomenon, Daredevil is left to scale audiences’ steep expectations without a universally recognized character or a feel-good, coming-of-age story line. What the filmmakers are gambling on is the inherent appeal of a superhero with no real powers beyond his heightened sense of moral responsibility, one who reflect the post-September 11 fascination with self-sacrifice and everyday bravery. “Spider-Man raised the bar of what people expect, but this is such a different movie,” says Johnson. “Spider-Man, to me, is always swooping down and catching purse snatchers, saying ‘Here’s your purse, ma’am.’ Superman’s saving the world. This was never about that. This is about a guy trying to keep crime out of his area and do the right thing, and his head’s getting all messed up because of it. He’s supposed to be upholding the law as a lawyer, and then here he is out at night as a vigilante. That’s why it resonates with me. We all find ourselves caught between what’s right and what’s wrong.”
The entire production of Daredevil has also been caught between its own conflicting agendas, determining the right and wrong ways to craft a successful comic-book adaptation. With the exception of the Batman movies, actors of Ben Affleck’s level of stardom are rarely cat as superheroes. From the studio’s point of view, it’s hard to accept that the ever-afflicted Daredevil could be embodied by a six-feet-two movie star with a love for livin’ large and a marriage date with J.Lo. Factor in the rush to bear next summer’s Hulk and the X-Men sequel, X2, into theaters, and one begins to get a sense of the mounting pressures placed on Johnson’s dark-horse superhero. “if this thing works with the soul and depth [inherent to the comic], it’s a great thing for this genre and franchise movies in general,” says producer Gary Foster (Sleepless in Seattle). “That means you can do a movie that’s not just standing tall on its genre but deals with complexity and character and stills appeals [to wide audiences]. If we play our cards right, there’s three or four of these. If [this] one doesn’t do it, we’ve blown an opportunity.”
This auspicious moment, for the 36-year-old Johnson, is the consummation of a lifelong infatuation with a comic-book hero whose cinematic future seemed destined to fall into the hands of a more powerful director. “This is the movie I’ve wanted to make since I was a little kid,” he says. “I used to wait outside of the drugstore in Hastings, Minnesota, for these comics to show up on the truck. I’d be there at 6 A.M. when they’re get there and just obsess over them. [But] I never thought I would get a chance to make this movie. I’m not the obvious choice.”
When Johnson first pitched himself for Daredevil, he had just finished shooting Simon Birch, his adaptation of John Irving’s novel A Prayer For Owen Meany, about a physically challenged kid who enchants a small New England town with his preternatural wit and wisdom. “Simon Birch was my film school,” John says, almost apologetically. “Birch was [training me] to make this movie. But they’re both about handicapped heroes, which is kind of interesting.”
That connection wasn’t all that seductive to the gauntlet of Marvel executives, studio heads, and actors Johnson faced during his six-year crusade to make this movie. His first and in some ways biggest hurdle was Marvel. At the time, the venerable comic company was on the brink of bankruptcy due to bad management and an unwillingness to capitalize on the screen-readiness of their universe of 4,700 characters. Daredevil, as it turned out, had a devoted following among filmmakers, and Chris Columbus (the Harry Potter films) had already optioned the project and written a screenplay for Carlo Carlei (Flight of the Innocent) to direct for Fox. Having heard that Columbus’ script needed serious work, Johnson continued to badger Avi Arad, the president and CEO of Marvel Studios, to let him take a crack.
”They were driving me crazy,” recall Arad, who took the project to Columbia after Columbus’s option expired. “Lucky for mark, I fell in love with him. He was so passionate, and he’s a great writer, and he’s soulful.” No sooner had Johnson got the job than the Columbia deal fell apart over Internet rights. So Arad went back to Fox, and Johnson was once again forced to sell himself as the guy whose passion belied his credits. He scored the writing gig, but directing looked out of reach for him. X-Men had just hit pay dirt, and the studio had its sights set on wooing an A-lister. “The attitude was, we can go get Ridley Scott or Jim Cameron,” recalls Foster. Johnson was so infuriated that he rode his motorcycle over to the studio and sat outside the office of the executive in charge of the production for four hours. “They said, ‘He’s in meetings,’ and I said, ‘I ain’t leaving’,’” recalls Johnson, who had already paid an artist $7,000 of his own money for storyboards. “When I got in, I went off on him for quite a while bout why nobody else was right, and this is my movie and needs to be one vision. And in hindsight, that’s what it took. I think he was terrified.”
”He’d been living and breathing this thing for so many years that it just poured out of him,” recalls the executive in question, Sanford Panitch, president of production at Regency Enterprises, which cofinanced the movie with Fox. “You got excited about Daredevil from him. He just loves it so much. He’d do anything to make a great movie.”
Initially, the concept was to make an emotionally driven action movie – more like a film noir with costumes and martial artistry – for a modest budget of around $50 million. “We were going to do it for cheap,” Johnson says. “And as the cast began to grow…” The first major spurt came when Affleck expressed interest in the title role after being offered the part of Bullseye, the flashy villain role traditionally played by bigger stars (think Jack Nicholson or Jim Carrey in the Batman series). Though Johnson and Foster were aware that Affleck was a Daredevil fan, they had focused on actors who kept lower profiles and price tags. “We had a long conversation with Edward Norton. He knew every detail about this characters,” recalls Foster, who says they also looked at Guy Pearce. “but then Edward calls me up and goes, ‘I just don’t know if I want to wear the suit.’”
Although there was still concern about springing for a movie-star salary, Johnson fought for the actor, whose teenage response to Daredevil had been as intense as his own. “I got into it as an early adolescent and Daredevil mirrored my sense of the world as this operatic place full of weighted decisions and doomed romances and endless combat,” Affleck says. “Doomed romances were something I was thinking about because I didn’t have any. Or when I did, they would be like a week long, and then I’d get a note that said, ‘I break up with you.’ So this was what I thought being a sexy teenager was like.” Still, Affleck was aware that the role might not be anyone’s idea of what a sexy grown man is like. “There was a potential for it to be ridiculous,” says the star (who ended up taking home $12.5 million for the movie and contracting for possible sequels). “Because if it doesn’t work, not only are you in a regular bad movie, but you’re in a bad movie with red trousers on. But if it does work, then it’s my little childhood fantasy comic-book movie, and I get to be that guy.”
For the other primary cast members, the decision to sign on to what could turn out to be a men-in-tights fiasco was largely treated as if it were a kind of summer job where they could collect a paycheck and learn some kung-fu party tricks while they were at it. “I only have about three minutes of screen time,” says Farrell, jokingly underestimating his character’s contribution, “so I thought it would be cool to do a small job. You can’t exactly do research around the streets of Los Angeles killing people with paper clips. I just wanted the physical experience and to have fun with something.” And the Oscar-nominated Michael Clarke Duncan (The Green Mile), who plays the mob boss known as the Kingpin, simply liked the idea of playing a 330-pound character who’s also a “martial artist and really quick for his size.”
Surprisingly, despite the physical demands of her day job on Alias, the 30-year-old Garner was drawn to this role as an opportunity to add to her bag of kicks. “I wanted the training,” she says. “It was like when you learn something new and you’re kind of obsessed with it. And it’s also a much darker role than the one I play all the time. [Alias’s] Sydney is much more normal, like myself. Elektra is an assassin for hire. Her body’s for hire. She’s a… whore. She’s not a girl from West Virginia, that’s for sure.” The only sticking point for Garner had to do with donning the thonglike ensemble Elektra wears in the comic. “I just couldn’t. I’m pretty good about [scary costumes] once I’m there and just forgetting about it. I don’t know how we could have made the things Elektra does in the movie] work with what she does – or doesn’t – wear in the comic.”
Although what Garner ends up wearing – a naval bearing, black leather bustier with matching pants and boots – is negligibly less negligible, comic-book fans don’t take kindly to taking even the slightest liberty. “I hate the Elektra costume [in the movie],” says John Dacey, the genial manager of the Hi De Ho Comics in Santa Monica. “I think she basically looks like a garden-variety D&D dominatrix. Very disappointing, considering what a hottie Jennifer Garner is.”
Early into production Johnson faced off with the studio over sartorial issues. “hey were very nervous about the [Daredevil] costume,” says Johnson. “They weren’t sure they wanted one.” As absurd as it sounds to dress a superhero in civilian threads, these discussions came about before Spider-Man proved that spandex still has snap. The industry was also fixating on the X Games aesthetic of Vin Diesel’s streetwise, testosterone-pumped XXX hero. “We all wanted something cool; it was just a matter of finding it,” Johnson says. “Ultimately it was just like, ‘Look, this is Daredevil. It’s about a guy who dresses up in horns and jumps around Hell’s Kitchen in this outfit. That’s who he is. If you take that away from him, he’s something else. He’s XXX.’”
Johnson ultimately prevailed and hired designers Jams Atcheson and Lisa Tomczeszyn, fresh off Spider-Man, to create the character’s signature duds. “Daredevil’s a much darker story, and I think there was a desire to make the costumes more street and – I hate to use this term – hip,” Tomczeszyn says. “They wanted the costume to feel like it lived in the world of Generation X sportswear. There was a committee who felt there was nothing hopper than a guy in a leather jacket. ‘The guy in the leather jacket always gets the girl’ was a comment that was going around at the time.” Johnson struck a compromise hat put Daredevil in a leather jacket, pants, and boots. “We ended up with this sculpted leather bodysuit, which looks great when it’s well lit,” Johnson says. “And when it’s not, it looks like the gimp in Pulp Fiction.”
Beyond a passing concern that the leather mask would look too Halloween-like, Affleck tolerated the end result, which came complete with a built-in barrel chest, with only occasional cringing even amid ribbing from his costars. “The funniest moment was when I saw him in that leather outfit,” says the 45-year-old Duncan, who wore king-size power suits throughout the shoot. “I said, ‘You need a butt pad. Come on, what is that? I can write on that thing you got back there!’” But it was Garner who could have used some extra padding. “I was very jealous of Ben and Colin’s clothes hat covered everything,” she laughs. “They didn’t have to suck anything in. If I had a bad day, I had trouble zipping into my little suit. I had to be pretty serious.”
Garner is a master of many skills, not the last of which is the highly appealing but all-too-seldom employed art of genial humility. Sure, she can topple men three times her size with a roundhouse kick applied with a sharpshooter’s precision. Sure, she can best squads of international terrorist goons armed with nothing more than a strappy dress and stilettos. But what is far trickier is the ability to talk, over breakfast, about her fluctuating weight (what, in grams?) or the travails of dressing for Daredevil’s glammed-out ballroom scene without sounding like she’s been programmed by mission control. “It took six hours of hair and makeup, and at the end I was like, what does this say about me?” she says. “It takes that long to make Helena Bonham Carter look like a monkey. So am I starting out like a monkey?”
Garner had the cast and crew of Daredevil wondering the same thing, but for a very different reason, when she pulled off the dazzling acrobatics and wire stunts choreographed by Chinese master Yuen Cheung-yan. “Jennifer is a legitimately tough girl,” Affleck says. “And further embarrassing to me, she was so much better at [the action] than I am. She constantly had the moves down first, modestly going, ‘Well, you know, I was a dancer.’” Of course, Garner will cop to no such thing. Her favorite Daredevil story casts Affleck solidly as the hero who saved her early on in the production when she was doing a stunt that required her to run up a wall, pull out a sword (a sai, her character’s trademark three-pronged Asian weapon), land, and stab somebody. “As I’m running up the wall, I start to flip and flail, and I was going with such velocity there was no way I was not going to break my nose on the wall,” she says. “And he swooped in and grabbed me from underneath with both arms and just said, ‘I gotcha!’ It was like he was Superman!”
Uh, make that Daredevil. Perception, or lack thereof, is truly everything in the making and marketing of a comic-book event movie. And Daredevil is still struggling to distinguish itself among the superstars of the genre. While Wesley Snipes’s turn as the futuristic vampire hunter in Blade proved that it’s possible to turn a movie about an unknown superhero into a sleeper hit, Daredevil has the added pressure of entering theaters at a time when audiences expect a great deal more from the genre.
Stars from the Marvel universe gained considerable clout in Hollywood after X-Menpulled in $157 million at the box office without any marquee names. But it is the looming shadow of Spider-Man’s audacious swing to the apex of success that radically altered Daredevil’s course of action. When Spider-Man was released on May 3, 2002, the production was already up and running, and the action sequences were planned to incorporate various Asian fighting techniques with street combat and some rooftop stunts. But it was promptly decided that the movie needed more “wow” moments after the world got a peek at the webslinger’s spectacular set pieces. “There has definitely been a pre-Spider-Man, post-Spider-Man [mind-set],” Foster says. “We saw what they were able to achieve with a certain amount of money. We didn’t have near that, but we realized we had to deliver a certain level of action and visual effects. Otherwise it would be a poor man’s Spider-Man.”
With that in mind, the studio ponied up more money for Daredevil’s action and special effects, bringing the budget up to “under $100 million,” Foster says. The filmmakers then figured they could get the biggest wow for their buck by hiring the Chinese wire-work team responsible for the Hong Kong-style how’d-they-do-that acrobatics in Charlie’s Angels and the upcoming Matrix sequels. Because Yuen and his crew were brought in relatively late in preproduction, they focused solely on two of the film’s action sequences – one sparing/courtship ritual with Affleck and Garner on a playground, and the climactic showdown between Affleck and Farrell in the cathedral. Yuen felt right at home choreographing action for Daredevil, whose melodramatic story line and beleaguered antihero mirrored the underdog heroes who are a staple of Chinese action. “If you watch Hong Kong movies, the bad guy is in over his head and working very hard and he wins,” he says, via his translator. “It’s about perseverance.”
Performing the action sequences, however, was more about endurance. “Jackie Chan I am not,” Affleck says. “It was really hard because Daredevil has no superpowers, so you had to physically approximate as best you could what a superhero is built like. It was an excuse to really get in shape. But in terms of acrobatics and kung fu, flexibility is the big thing, and you can only progress so much.” The playground scene, in which Garner and Affleck perform wire-assisted flips front and back while balancing on tandem seesaws, involved a month of rehearsals and rigorous training while they were doing night shoots of other scenes. “We were fighting all night every night from sundown to sunup,” Garner says. “Before we would do something painful and terrifying, the Chinese guy would say ‘Yat! Wee! Sum!’ And that would be the go. And as soon as we would finish, they would say, ‘Tuleachee,’ which means ‘Again.’ We worked on this one sequence that’s going to last a half second for at least 20 hours. That’s not an exaggeration. I don’t know how Keanu Reeves does it.”
Each day, the actors were rigged up in a harness strapped around their thighs and hips and attached to a wire that ostensibly helped them fly through the air with the greatest of ease. But after being cinched and squeezed in the crotch area for days on end, the novelty wore off. “It gets really boring once you get past the initial thrill of, ‘Hey, I’m kicking someone in the face!’” Affleck says. “Then the actor part of you goes, ‘What am I doing?’ You feel like an actual meat puppet on a string. I felt like a big red piñata.”
Garner’s breaking point came in a scene in which she hurls herself off a tower and has her fall broken by the wire. But in each take, her harness kept cutting into her abdomen, producing a gag reflex. “Every time you think you’re going to be sick,” she recalls. “I was livid and shaking and close to tears. And the reason was, I was thinking, ‘I have just spent this whole summer hurting myself, and then I am going back to Alias, where I will hurt myself for nine more months.’ I had a moment and I had to go back to my trailer while they changed my clothes for the next thing. And they said, ‘We’re ready for you,’ and I was like, ‘Sniff, sniff, okay.’ And I was fine.
But isn’t this exactly the type of thing stunt doubles were made for? Of course it is. But on a movie like this one, which lies and dies on the authenticity of it stunts, audiences have come to expect a celebrity thrill factor for their nine dollars. “People used to use stunt doubles for everything,” Garner says. “Now one of the first questions anyone asks me is, ‘Do you do your own stunts?’” In this case, it almost seems as if the filmmakers planned the playground interlude in anticipation of that very question. Nearly every person interviewed for this story made a point of mentioning that Affleck and Garner “did all their own stunts in the playground scene.” What that means about the rest of the action is hard to tell.
Sometimes the truth is in what people don’t say. “Ben was a real trouper when I had him,” says stunt coordinator Jeff Imada, who hired four stunt doubles for Affleck’s character, each with a specialty like tumbling, wire work, fighting, and weaponry. “Jennifer was rarin’ to go and do a lot of stuff because of Alias and just her physical abilities. She picked up on stuff quite quickly. And Colin Farrell was the same way – a natural athlete. When I first met with him, I said, ‘This guy is as good as a stunt guy.’”
Farrell approaches his stunt work and his dramatic scenes with remarkable ferocity. Garner found herself on the receiving end of the Irishman’s full-immersion technique one night when they were shooting a fight scene and he suggested that he attack her by biting her lip. “I’m hanging from a wire, of course, and it’s the butt middle of the night,” Garner recalls, her voice rising with amused disbelief. “Then he starts off by taking a little nibble. And then take after take he’s pulling my lip like six inches away from my face…” Garner stops to demonstrate, stretching her lower lip out like Silly Putty. “He’s just gnawing on it for a few minutes before he lets go. And Mark said, ‘It would be great if your eyes would fill with tears,’ And I was like, ‘No problem!’”
It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that Farrell seized a rare opportunity to chew the scenery. Back on the set, several hours after his primal glass-grabbing scene, he looks like a portrait of the understimulated actor, splayed out in nap position on his trailer sofa, chain-smoking and flipping through a tabloid. “He is actually doing a dramatic reading (emphasis on the outrage) of an item accusing him of Johnny Depp-like hotel room shenanigans at the Mayflower in New York. “I don’t know where they Mayflower hotel is,” he insists, lighting a Camel off his last, determined to exonerate himself. “I saw Ben Affleck’s name in here as well, and I went and asked him if he sent a fuckin’ like-sized Scooby-Doo to Matt Damon after The Bourne Identity came out number two to Scooby-Doo, and he says, ‘Fuck no.’ And I was like ‘Hah!’”
That discussion about the tabloid was probably longer than any scene Affleck and Farrell have shot together as the protagonist and villain of a movie that has, at this point, been in production for more than three months. “I haven’t worked with Ben,” Farrell says. “He’s worked with my stunt double, and I’ve worked with his. It’s really weird. But the reality is that he’s in a red fuckin’ suit, his eyes are fuckin’ concealed. It’s not like sitting with someone having a dialogue and being open. It’s a guy with two red horns coming out of his head, and you can’t see his eyes so you pick a point and go for it.”
Affleck had his own challenges playing a handicapped superhero. “He can see, in a way, better than most people because he has this three-dimensional radar,” he says. “It was a tricky thing to play, and I didn’t want to be using my eyes, no matter what, so I had these milky blue contacts in the whole time which actually render you blind.”
To prepare for the role, Affleck spent time with a blind actor named Tom Sullivan, who keyed him into the ephemera of life as a sightless person, like walking with a cane and using the other senses to get around. “Eventually, I just got used to not seeing all day, which wasn’t too bad. People kind of left me alone.” Says Affleck, who also watched a documentary about how bats use their radar sense to navigate. “Although there’s only so much looking off into the middle distance you can do. After a while you do want to say something.”
Affleck is not the first guy one associates with the strong, silent type. “You watch him over the years, and he tens to rely on dialogue, and we didn’t give him a lot [to say],” Foster says. “So there had to be a physical manifestation of what the character is, and he had to sell that daily.” According to Kevin Smith, who has directed Affleck in five films (including the upcoming Jersey Girl) and who visited the set often (he has a cameo in Daredevil), his old friend was virtually unrecognizable. “The really interesting thing about his performance is that he doesn’t get to rely on the ‘Afflecktions,’ as we call them,” says Smith. “He doesn’t get to be that slick, oily, charming Ben Affleck. I was really blown away by his manner. It’s weird because it is a comic-book movie, but he had to give a true performance. It is a completely netless performance because he has to be completely straight.”
”Kevin would visit the set and make asinine remarks like, ‘I can’t believe it! No Affleck!’” Affleck recalls, his hackles up. “I get an unfair rap, but that aside, playing the character was something different for me. For some reason, there is this archetype of the hero who is tortured by his own goodness and always has to suffer while all the actors who have been playing these unredeemable characters have the best time.”
Apparently no Method actor, off-camera Affleck assumed his usual position as class clown. On a long, physically demanding shoot like this one, the tension release between takes can be both a necessary tonic and a dangerous distraction. “There is one moment that has haunted me, where I thought, ‘I don’t like what I did,’” Garner says of a scene near the end of the movie in which her character has been stabbed. “Ben was making me laugh between takes, and I should have been more disciplined. There was an element of this being my summer job. I worked really hard all year and I knew I could relax a little bit – otherwise I think I would have had a nervous breakdown. I probably should have taken it a little more seriously. I was not scooping ice cream. I was making a big movie.”
”That is typical Jennifer Garner modesty,” Affleck counters. “In fact, the only new footage we’re shooting is a love scene of me and Jennifer in bed, which is a testament to the fact that someone was thinking, ‘We have this incredibly beautiful woman and we should have some sexy moments. Give the people what they paid for: the Alias chick panties!’” Garner is actually looking forward to taking another crack at the emotion. In addition to the new love scene, they’re reshooting the climactic moment Garner feels she flubbed. “Sometimes you’re not your best,” she says, “and thank God they’re letting me go back and fix one of those moments.”
Since principal photography wrapped last August, Johnson and his stars have reconciled themselves with the risks (and potential shame) involved in a project like this one. “If the movie doesn’t make its money back, someone out there will blame me,” says Affleck, who ventured to his first comic-book convention so he could talk to Daredevil fans and hopefully prove his fan-boy credentials. “I think that group is particularly suspicious of anyone they think of as a conventional leading man. But by going down there and talking, I think it made a difference. If it were me, it would have made a difference.”
The filmmakers acknowledge that a faithful representation of Daredevil’s sex, violence, and hazy morality would surely result in an R rating. But Johnson understand that his beloved superhero now inhabits a world in which all comic-book adaptations are expected to fall into the fun-for-the-whole-family category, even if it takes a crowbar to squeeze it into a PG-13. Still, a week away from shooting the love scene, Johnson delights at the ideas of smuggling in another layer of darkness and devastation, giving Daredevil even more reason to brood shamelessly into the sequel. “It’s like somebody like him gets a shot at a happy ending with the girl. Now what do you do? Make it even more depressing!” he says with a cackle. “But that’s the real life of a superhero – you can’t have any relationships, nobody can get too close, you’re 30 years old, your body’s falling apart.” Johnson’s voice soars with the wondrous disbelief of a guy who finally got to kiss the girl he’d pined for all his life. “I just think, wow, that’s a hero… Then everybody dies.”
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Holy ****... I've only gone and done a sequel!
A long time ago, in a lifetime very different to that which I have now, I wrote a novel. An actual, proper-ish novel (this is open to debate obviously, given the reception it received.) in which I sent a character I had created on a road trip into her past and that of her family. It was a violent, unpleasant and politically insensitive story, based on corrupt politics, vampires and murder for hire. I entitled this novel 'Leticia, Sunset Hunter' and was genuinely proud of what I had written.
My partner and I desperately tried to find a publisher or an agent to release the novel, but being the weird neuro-atypical freak that I am, I was barely able to believe in myself, let alone the power of my words. So after three hundred letters, with only one positive reply who never write back again, I called it a day and retreated into my shell, like a sad little snail, scared of the big wide world. The rejection felt like a cricket bat to the stomach, I had been judged harshly by the world of publishing and I did not take that judgement well.
Time went by and I remembered the words of my dear friend and mentor Mr Smith... “Have you looked into modern electronic publishing?” As an early adopter of the Apple Mac, Mr Smith was way ahead of me in terms of modern gadgets. He had iPods before anyone else had ePods! (sorry for the poor alphabetical pun!). He read his morning paper on the first generation iPad and knowing him, he was probably on first name terms with Steve Jobs. Sadly both of these men are now dead and in truth I greatly loved one of them and miss him to this day.
My first attempt at publishing was with a book of short stories. This was also my first attempt at editing a piece of my writing and I was abysmal at it. The short stories contained spelling mistakes, missed letters, lost words, changes in font and variable font size. It was a beautiful disaster, but I still loved it. This went up on Amazon Kindle and I sold at least three to well meaning friends, who let me down gently as to the quality of what they had paid for. As you would expect for such a service, Amazon took seventy percent of the profit and I received a few pence for each copy sold, which after a few months added up to the grand total of fifty three... Pence.
So releasing Leticia on Kindle was probably my best bet. I worked for months, preparing the story, working on the edits and slowly going insane. My therapist helped me deal with the feelings of failure with some kind words. “By publishing on Kindle, you are staying true to the purity of your own voice.” So publish her I did and the feelings of shame and self doubt grew like a tumour in my belly. Leticia was far from perfect and in truth I would write a very different book now, but I have to be true to the purity of my voice. The me of then who wrote Leticia, was desperate to be loved. So when I recently edited Leticia, I made sure that I was kind to the me of then and all I changed was the formatting mistakes and a couple of blindingly awful spelling or grammatical errors. I also gave Leticia a new cover, ready to be joined by her sequel, David.
When people have pets, they give them cute, lovable names (except for poor black kittens who often end up being named after something demonic), my cat for example has an adorable name. He is a sixteen year old ginger tabby called Jasper Doodahs and as I write this, he is curled up fast asleep between my ankles. Naming books is just as difficult as naming pets, if not more so. I can only imagine how many modern pets have been named Grogu or other Star Wars names, I know of at least one Ahsoka, who is a beautiful little silver tabby queen. The problem with books is that you cannot use names from films, it gets very confusing if you do and can be problematic when Lawyers are called in to ask you to stop. So I use human names for my books and here I present David : Dark Walker.
What is David about? Well, it picks up hours after the end of Leticia, with David on his way to meet Rosalind, Leticia's mother, when a woman from his long forgotten past reaches out to him. From there we have yet more travel, through this world and into others with violent and unpleasant outcomes and then right at the end, we lead into a final sequel. I wish that I could tell you more about the sequel, but as we speak, the plan is in its most basic form and nothing has been written other than a few introductory lines of text.
David is finally available now and is book two in the Vampyrican trilogy. At just over one hundred and twenty thousand words, you get around ten thousand words for roughly each pound you spend on my book. I started writing David in 2017 and since then we have had Brexit, a global pandemic, financial collapse, war in Europe and an awful lot of unnecessary deaths caused by the piss poor performance of politicians globally. None of this appears in David, well none of the real stuff anyway, but there is plenty of technocratic theocracy and maybe hints of cyber punk, with maybe a lot of love for and influence from my favourite movie of all time, Bladerunner.
What this means is that with my greater experience of being a writer now, I asked someone else to pass their eye across my final manuscript and they corrected a number of irritating mistakes for me. I still do not have the money to be able to pay an editor what they are worth to professionally work on my book, but this is hopefully a better step forwards with the reading experience for my readers. So I implore you, go and read my new novel, buy it on Kindle and/or paperback. If you live local to me, I can even sign a paperback for you. What I can tell you, should you wish to read my Vampyrican trilogy, you will be getting the purity of my voice, albeit a voice that has changed and matured over the years. I still love Leticia, but David is better and who knows, the final in the series might well be better again, when she lands on your kindle reader or bookshelf. Actually, there is a hint, book three has a girl's name and she is a character all of her own.
#amazon kindle#sci fi novel#Jayne Hecate#creative writing#fiction writing#novel writing#writing#kindle publishing#kindle direct publishing#cyber punk#cyber punk genre#vampire fiction#thriller#assassin fiction
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Writing Prompt
Demon deal... human interrupts before Demon can begin negotiating for their Soul.
“I am yours, you are mine. Deal?”
#supernatural#writing prompt#demon deals#I am yours you are mine as a demon deal#how does the demon respond?#why would the human ask for this deal?#so much room for interpretation#treating demon deals in as contracts#I love when demons are presented like lawyers
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Core Convictions
“But when you ask him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind.” James 1:6NLT
Question: What are your core convictions concerning Eternity? My prayer is— this question will gnaw on your mind night and day, until you have a one hundred percent conviction regarding the truth about God, Jesus, and Holy Spirit in your life.
I’m not asking you— what do you believe? You might believe your mom was Pocahontas and your dad wrote the US Constitution. Your diagnosis would be schizophrenic, insane.
Scriptures say: James 2:19NIV “You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.” Did you ever consider demons believe Christ is God’s Son? Their disobedient rebellion cast them out of heaven for eternity. Do “You believe that there is one God”? Is your belief a core conviction or simple mental assent like demons have?
My grandson, (getting his Master’s Degree in Divinity,) explained Core Convictions. His explanation taught me soul-searching, why am I convinced Christ is who the Bible says He is? Am I just giving mental assent to Christ in my life, or living out core convictions I’d die for?
Core conviction goes deeper than belief. When using the word ‘conviction’ in legal terms— this points to finding someone guilty of a crime. A guilty ruling must be based upon irrefutable evidence for a conviction. Judges and lawyers don’t ask a witness, ‘do you ‘think’ this person ‘might be’ guilty?’ Witnesses can’t add personal opinion— aka ‘belief’— that’s considered heresy. The jury’s ‘guilty’ decision is a ‘finding’ based upon evidence.
Just as evidence brings a ‘conviction,’ in a court, evidence has to be present to obtain a core—‘verdict’— or ‘conviction.’ Thus convictions cannot be changed, or tossed “around by the wind.” People live and die by their convictions. Persecution quickly reveals spiritual core convictions
In order to have faith, we have to answer the question. What are our core convictions?
Has God’s Word proved itself true in life?
Is your core conviction— there’s only One God and Jesus is His only Son?
If you’re being persecuted, tortured, killed— can you still maintain the core conviction, God loves you?
We must search deeply for our core convictions to find stability in our world, our church, our life, our family and our faith. I cannot begin to count the number of times my world has crashed. At that moment, doubt and fear wanted to overwhelm me back into a pity party. Always, I go back to the night God awakened me to tell me,—“My name is faithful and true.” He was yelling His name by the time my feet hit the stairs. Then He directed me to five scriptures proving His name, starting with Revelation 19:11. With my core convictions assured once again of His name, I wasn’t tossed about with the crashing around me.
Can you tell me your core convictions and what you base them on? The entire church world is stymied on this point of core convictions. Much of the church believes nothing, because individually, there are no core convictions. When the church awakens to her core convictions, she will dramatically change overnight into the Bride of Christ. She’ll know— WE WIN WITH CHRIST!
Are you blown around like waves, with divided loyalties? Can you accept a challenge to search deep within yourself to discover your core convictions? If you’re sick and tired of the status quo, you will search until you know. It’s your choice. You choose.
LET’S PRAY: Almighty God, I ask You to help us to totally seriously take our core convictions as primary. Help us to dig deep and find what we would live and die for, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.
by Debbie Veilleux
Copyright 2022 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.
#Jesus Christ#lord of lords#Word of God#Holy Spirit#God#it's your choice#devotional#core convictions#to die for#believe#verdict#eternity#basis#love#hope#faith
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I know you said no follow-up question but I just couldn't help myself, so, in the earlier snippet, it's mentioned that Gideon is Alec's uncle and Thomas is Gideon's son, which means Alec and Thomas are cousins? And Alastair is also here which means I don't even know what? Are all characters from tlh here? Or is this just a very random crack snippet and I am thinking too much?
Also, could I please get a mavid snippet from the divorce au, if you have one written down, that is?
You lil demon.
Yes, Alec and Thomas are cousins. I'm trying to include characters from TID/TLH into this fic as side characters wherever possible. I don't know how many or to what capacity, but if it makes sense, then they will be there.
For example, Thomas and Alastair are family/divorce lawyers. They fall in love while working on the malec divorce (very much in the background, but it's fun to include little background stuff like this).
These characters won't be consistently present, but we will have lots and lots of cameos. For example, Matthew is a model/actor ;)
Here is your Mavid snippet.
"Have you eaten anything at all?" David asks worriedly.
"No," Max replies shortly. "You can leave now."
And then - then David has the audacity to open his mouth and ask Max if he would like David to cook something for him.
"No," Max says again.
He didn't like it when people stayed. Because it meant they eventually had to leave.
Max didn't like that part where people left.
He looks up at the boy. "You don't have to stay."
David stays anyway.
That absolute motherfucker.
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HP FESTS: For The Love of Fests (Part 1)
Love at Second Sight January 2021:
Second Time's the Charm by floorcoaster - T, one-shot - The first time Hermione sees Draco Malfoy again, she's in for a surprise.
Influence by Misdemeanor1331 - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione bump into each other at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Draco thinks it’s a chance encounter. Hermione knows it’s anything but.
The Love Boat by Seakays - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger and her two best friends are embarking on a week long "Divorced Magicals" Cruise. Hermione took advantage of the Cruise's pre cruise chat room, where she met Scorly1203. After six months of texting, she has agreed to meet him on the first day of the cruise. Could she really find a second chance at love on the Lido Deck?
Second Time Lucky by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - During a trip to Weasley Wizard Wheezes, what do you do when presented with a second chance?
In Vino Veritas by beautyberry - M, one-shot - "Granger?" he asked disbelievingly. "Malfoy?" she asked, "What are you doing here?" Rated M for mentions of sex.
The Art of Second Chances by Blessedindeed - not rated, one-shot - A chance encounter at the museum brings up unresolved feelings
What Lies Beyond the Light by SlytherinHermione - M, one-shot - The thing about prisons is that it tends to change a you. The person you were when you went in, will not be the person that comes out. Sometimes for the better, oftentimes for the worst. For Draco Malfoy, the scales were tipped when a certain lawyer forced themselves onto his case with the start of one letter. A letter that turned into the type of correspondence where you end up baring your soul to a stranger. A stranger that ends up knowing every little part of you, from the darkest corners, to the sunniest fields - while barely knowing you at all. But then again, Hermione Granger was never really a stranger to begin with.
Silly Love Songs February 2021:
This Beauty By My Side by Amarillis39 - M, one-shot - My entry to the Silly Love Songs Fest. ____ "But as he watched her glide through the crowd, he decided he would take every second she would give him. Worthy or not, he was still a selfish git." ___ It's another stuffy gala at the Ministry and Draco is overcome with conflicting feelings as he watches Hermione in her element.
The Light That You Shine by SlytherinHermione - M, one-shot - Draco was adrift. All around him was an endless, unforgiving ocean, dull and grey in colour. The waves kept crashing in on him. Back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes he felt like he’d been cursed to remain like a graying tower, alone on the sea. This all changed on a random cold winter day and a bright light. Because what followed the light was as unexplainable as the feeling of calm that suddenly enveloped him. He felt a twinge of something that he couldn’t explain. On the other side of the sidewalk stood Hermione Granger, more beautiful than he could remember, locking eyes with him for a second, as if she herself was caught with him inside of this time bubble filled with light and large, fluffy snowflakes. And with a blink of an eye, she walked the other way, as if this was just another Monday. As if she hadn’t just turned Draco's world up-side down. The tumultuous oceans that surrounded his untethered soul were full of waves, but now of a different kind.
Discord by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “I’ve seen your darkest, and it doesn’t scare me. You’ve become something so much more.” She placed a gentle kiss on his jaw. “I love you, dark and all.”
Time to Spare by Willowfairy - M, one-shot - Draco gets drunk enough to finally tell Hermione how he really feels, and once he starts talking he finds it impossible to stop.
Sometimes When We Touch by sodamnrad - T, one-shot - What if Hermione and Draco were dating when he took the Dark Mark? Submission for the Silly Loves Songs Mini-Fest One shot | Draco's POV | Sixth Year
To Be With You by Blessedindeed - not rated, one-shot - Her ability to show forgiveness intrigues him. Draco finds he has a soft spot for Hermione.
Masquerade March 2021:
Punch Line by tygermine - E, one-shot - Hermione seems to hide behind multiple masks.Draco wants to remove them all.
A Deadly Dance by MykEsprit - T, one-shot - An unexpected guest arrives at the ball. Dramione.
Ask it of Me by WritingFicariously - T, one-shot - Hermione has always had the ability to chase away demons, the darkness that twists his mind into believing he is not good, never enough. She sees and knows every part of him. But Draco has always kept one thing from her, one secret that he never dared say aloud. Until he did.
A Masquerade of Body and Soul by Annav94 - M, one-shot - She’s here to escape the reality, to break the rules. She is here to break the rules because all rules have only given her, is false hope. She turns her head and her eyes meet his. He’s there for the catch of the night. And while he finds himself smirking, smiling at the unforeseen turn of event, he wonders if truly Hermione Granger is flirting in a room full of witnesses with none other than himself - the infamous Draco Malfoy.
Imbolc by CosmicCthulhu - G, one-shot - Hermione celebrates the beginning of spring for the first time, years after the war. She's not the only one who wants a fresh start.
Suit Up by calico_kitten - M, 2 chapters - Gawain Robards has cooked up a new idea for the Departmental Hallowe'en Ball: comic book hero disguises!
This Mask I Wear by SlytherinHermione - T, one-shot - This mask I wear feels cool on my skin. I slip it on, and the act is ready to begin.Safety. Protection. Freedom.
Lover of Fiction April 2021:
3 Words, 8 Letters by sodamnrad - T, 2 chapters - “Do you like me?” Draco’s flitty looks, his tart remarks about her feelings for Blaise, the way he’s following her around instead of chasing an eligible witch who isn’t pining over his friend is extremely telling.“Define like.”Her mouth unhinges. No effing way. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”“How do you think I feel?” He glares at her. “I haven’t slept. I feel sick like there’s something in my stomach, fluttering.” He presses a hand against his belly, as if he’s experiencing the sensation at this very moment.“Butterflies?” she deadpans. “No. No, no, no this cannot be happening.”“No one is more surprised or ashamed than I am.” He gestures to himself, lifting his chin tersely.“Draco, you know that I adore all of Earth’s creatures and the metaphors that they inspire,” she says as her hand forms a crushing fist, “but the butterflies have got to be murdered.”---Draco & Hermione: Their Story (2000s TV Drama Style)Dual POV | 2 Shot | Idiots in Love
The Ambition by In_Dreams - M, one-shot - After ten years at sea, Captain Hermione Granger has a ship and a crew of her own. But one of her new crew mates is a blacksmith from her past. Dramione Pirates AU.
Jitters by TheMourningMadam - M, one-shot - This was written for the Lovers of Fiction mini fest for April. Thank you to QuinTalon for being a gracious host in this fest.My prompt was Jamie and Claire Fraser from Outlander. If you have never seen Outlander, why not? You at least need to watch their first time to see some hot and bewildered Jamie. This is a tiny snapshot into what would be a much larger story, so please take it at face value.Also, I finished this story right at the wire, so didn't have time for a beta. All mistakes are obviously my own and I apologize. Bold sentences are word for word from the tv show.
I Meant Something Like That by CharliPetidei - M, WIP - “You know what’s funny?” said Hermione, crossing her ankles and leaning forwards on the slightly peeling leather sofa. “When I first saw your advert online… I thought you were Hufflepuffs.” The three men opposite her exchanged glances, and then the tall, platinum blond one (it had to be dyed, right?) with the funny name leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. Draco, that was it. “You thought we were what?” A New Girl Dramione AU.
The One Where Everyone Finds Out - Dramione Edition by Annav94 - T, WIP - Don’t we all know what happened when Phoebe finds out about Monica and Chandler in season 5 of Friends? Well, what would then happen if it was Draco and Hermione to be discovered by Pansy?
Would then Theo try to calm her down, in the hope that she would stop screaming so his boyfriend (Harry bloody Potter, of all people) would be prevented from finding out about them is such crude way? And would Blaise go along with the scheme the two Slytherins would come up with to push the new couple to expose itself or will he be done with all the ‘pretending’ of not knowing, when he knew all along?Stay with me on this journey called: ‘The One Where Everyone Finds Out - Dramione Edition’.
The Dragon's Moving Castle by SlytherinHermione - T, WIP - Hermione Granger had accepted that her life wasn't going to be a great big adventure.She wasn't particularly beautiful, or interesting, and she hadn't been born with magic like her sisters. Really, she was just as plain as could be.One day though, a castle was seen rolling around the hills near her town.Not long after, she met a strange, handsome, and mysterious man.And she was cursed by the Wicked Witch of the Wasteland.Perhaps life was an adventure after all.
Lanky Brunettes with Wicked Jaws by Lostinthenightrain - M, one-shot - “You’ve got types?”“Only you darling.” He put his hand under her chin and brought her around to face him. He pulled her close with his arm held tight against her. His head to the side of her own, he grinned. “Lanky brunettes with wicked jaws.” A gentle kiss placed against her jaw. She smiled, a blush prettying her cheeks as she pulled back.
Reader, I Married Him by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - “Why must you?” he questioned as he pulled himself forward, using the rough pads of his fingers he gently touched under her chin, dragging her gaze to his own. “You know why!” She wrenched her chin from his grasp. “You are to be married, Malfoy.”
This fest is ongoing.
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young god | chapter 16
chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |
word count: 14.3k
warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, domestic & child abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, descriptions of mental illness, death, dark themes and foul language. once again, all information regarding psychiatric conditions or courtroom procedures are to be taken with a grain of salt.
description: Han Jisung wrestles with the demons of his past as Kim Seungmin faces his own dilemma in the present, with one last chilling threat from Prosecutor Kang forcing Seungmin to make a final, crucial decision. The clock is counting down as your last chance wears thin, and one unexpected declaration is all it takes for things to change—forever.
watch the trailer here!
16| the prisoner’s dilemma.
Jisung was still frozen in place long after the heavy doors had swung shut and erased your face from his sight. His own hand felt foreign as he held it against his stinging cheek, the dull throbbing drowned out by the words still ringing in his ears.
Your friends want you to stay alive. Your mother wanted you to stay alive.
I need you to stay alive.
Bang Chan was watching him from the side, the detective’s eyes filled with equal parts amusement and wariness. Finally, he spoke. “You deserved that, you know.”
Jisung was silent, but his mind was already replaying the scene over and over again. Your anxious eyes, your voice trembling with the effort to stay steady. The slap couldn’t compare to the pain that had etched itself into your features every time he had spoken harshly, trying again and again to push you away. I know I did.
Chan sighed. “How are you feeling?”
A soft laugh escaped from Jisung’s dry mouth. “Dizzy,” he deadpanned honestly. The adrenaline was beginning to die down, but instead of leaving him sick in the stomach and with a pounding headache like usual, Jisung felt almost...lightheaded with relief. “Like...like a kid that just got told off?”
The detective chuckled, letting out his low, signature whistle. “What’d I tell you? That’s love, mate.”
Jisung looked at him now, incredulous. “Getting slapped in the face?”
“No,” Chan smiled, but for once, his eyes were serious. “Someone who cares about you enough to call you out when you’re wrong.”
Not knowing what to say, Jisung turned away, letting the ticking of the clock on the wall fill the strained silence. He could still feel Chan’s gaze on him, but it was no longer the look of a detective trying to dissect a case file. Instead, it held the same strange softness it had when Chan had pulled Jisung aside at the Third Eye, and asked if he was okay.
“I told you once,” Chan began slowly, “that everyone deserves to be loved, and that you’re no different. Of course, things have...changed,” he continued, and Jisung looked down, throat tight as he waited for Chan to finish. “But I still stand by what I said.”
Before Jisung could reply, the intercom crackled overhead. “The court hearing for Han Jisung and the Miroh Heights Murder Cases will be resuming in five minutes. All attorneys, jurors, and participants in the trial, please report to the courtroom immediately—”
“Detective, you should get going,” a security guard spoke lowly to Chan, who sighed and nodded, pulling himself to his feet. As he passed where Jisung was standing, he stopped briefly.
“You’re a good kid, Han Jisung. Even if you don’t believe it yourself...you had better start to.”
“Chan—”
The detective had reached the door when he looked over his shoulder at Jisung. He had the same old mischievous smile on his face again, but his eyes were sad.
“I hope we can grab another coffee together some time, yeah?”
━━━━━━━━
Seungmin’s head was spinning as he pushed through rooms packed with spectators and reporters until he finally stumbled into an emptier hallway. His eyes gleaned the plaques on the doors, searching for the room number the court clerks had given him after Seungmin had overheard their frantic conversation.
“We can’t just end the case here — the media and people’ll riot.”
“But we’ve lost a witness and the lead prosecutor of the case in one day — how the hell is the trial supposed to continue?”
The clerk wringed his hands. “We need to find out if there were any other prosecutors working with Kang on the case — call them in ASAP—”
And so, here Seungmin was — heart threatening to leap out of his throat, charging headfirst into a case that had been ripped out of his hands months ago. He had stepped into their conversation impulsively, and now a thousand warning bells were going off in his mind.
Kim Seungmin was not impulsive. Kim Seungmin always calculated his plans perfectly, meticulously. It was one of the reasons why he had always been at the top of his class, graduating a year early with honours. Always praised for being levelheaded and thorough.
Still, he thought, there had been one person that had seen right through him.
“You’re stressed,” you blurted bluntly, and Seungmin’s coffee cup froze midway to his lips. You were in his office, one of the many meetings you two had arranged in order to keep each other updated with information regarding Jisung’s case.
“We’re all stressed,” Seungmin replied matter-of-factly, unsure where you were going with this, but you shook your head.
“But you try the hardest out of all of us to hide it. Tell me if I’m crossing a line here, but—” you looked at him, tilting your head. “You seem like the type who’s calm and collected on the outside to...hide the fact that you’re still wrestling with nerves, and insecurities, on the inside. Like a defense mechanism.”
Seungmin fell silent. Instinctively, he felt the urge to laugh it off, but in a fleeting moment, his mind wandered to his coworkers— their condescending gazes at who they thought was just a lucky amateur, a young imposter infringing upon a field with people twice his age. Since his first day at the law firm, Seungmin had felt an unbearable desire to prove himself worthy in their eyes, and the anxious feeling ate away at him every time he touched a case.
Sensing the sudden change in mood, you quickly stammered, “I-I’m sorry, that was so unnecessary—what I’m trying to say is— it’s okay to be nervous. Don’t psyche yourself out with your own expectations for yourself. U-um—”
You trailed off, mortified, but Seungmin let out a small laugh, shaking his head lightly when your eyes widened in confusion. “No, no, it’s just…” You were smart and capable — anyone could see that — but always seemed to second-guess your own abilities. He found it almost endearing. “You really are a psychology major, Miss l/n.”
Seungmin rounded a corner and nearly slammed into someone that had just walked out of the men’s washrooms. Before he could apologise, Seungmin looked up into the man’s face and his gut twisted unpleasantly.
Prosecutor Kang seized Seungmin by the collar before he could walk away, his face livid. The younger man’s eyes darted down either side of the empty hallway, then back at his former senior. He had heard Kang was to be kept at the courthouse until the end of the trial, in case they needed anything from him. There were guards flanking every entrance and exit, so Kang couldn’t exactly escape, but seeing him walk around unsupervised still made Seungmin uneasy.
“S-sir, you can’t—”
“Do you remember what you said? What you promised?” Kang seethed, eyes wild as they raked Seungmin up and down. “‘I can handle it. I’ll find the culprit, and I’ll convict him. Death penalty, no less.’”
Hearing his own words coming out of Kang’s mouth made Seungmin wince and shrink back. Kang caught his discomfort, grinning savagely before jerking his head in the direction of the holding cells, where Jisung was. “You’re taking over the case, aren’t you? Your culprit’s right there. Everything’s been laid out for you, it couldn’t be simpler.”
Seungmin let out a shaky breath, fists clenched by his sides. Before he could open his mouth, Kang pulled him in closer, voice dangerously low.
“I always thought it was fishy, you know — someone your age, already entering the field? So I did my research.” Kang paused, smirking. “You’re a little prodigy, aren’t you? I didn’t know your parents were renowned lawyers, too.”
At that, Seungmin froze, shocked eyes darting up to meet Kang’s. It was true — born into a family of influential law enforcement officials, Seungmin had practically grown up reading about legal matters and judicial affairs. Despite his efforts to keep his parentage discreet as he grew older — hating the way their reputations always preceded his own — the expectations to follow in their footsteps had always remained suffocating. He loved law with all his heart, but his own family had become yet another reason why Seungmin had so much to live up to, and even more to lose.
The older prosecutor chuckled — Seungmin must have looked like a deer in headlights. “You can’t disappoint them, yes? You need to do everything you can to uphold the big family name.” Kang’s voice had a dangerous edge to it, like a blade. “My career might be over, little prosecutor, but I have far more power than you think. I can make sure you never step foot into this profession ever again. You want to prove yourself? To me, to your fellow prosecutors, to your parents? Here’s your chance.”
There was a snakelike glint in Kang’s eyes when he finally let Seungmin go, his words seeping through Seungmin’s mind like poison.
Prove yourself. Prove yourself. A security guard had appeared at the end of the hallway, and without another word, Kang calmly turned on his heel, letting the guard escort him away. Seungmin watched his silhouette grow fainter, feeling sick to his stomach.
Just how many cases...no, how many prosecutors had Kang manipulated for his own benefit?
He took a shuddering breath. Time was running out. Forcing his feet to move, Seungmin finally found the room, barely listening when the clerk quickly explained that the rights to the case were being transferred to him last minute.
“Ten minutes, Prosecutor Kim. You have approximately ten minutes to prepare your case.”
The roomful of law officials were watching him with doubtful eyes — the same doubtful, scornful gazes that had followed him his entire life. Ten minutes. Picking up where Kang had left off would be the smoothest, most reasonable route. Preparing an entirely different argument, however, was suicide.
Seungmin glanced up at the clock, and his heart sank.
━━━━━━━━
The commotion in the courtroom sounded like the buzzing of an agitated beehive, the constant thrumming of hushed conversations and your own erratic heartbeat fueling the tense atmosphere.
Hyunjin, Felix, Woojin, and you had sprinted straight to the courtroom after a rapid search for Seungmin had turned up futile — the prosecutor was nowhere to be seen, but judging from the murmurs you overheard around you, the case had been transferred into his hands with mere minutes to spare. You bit your lip nervously. This should have been good news, but you all knew that the odds — and time — were still against you. Looking the weariest you’d ever seen him, Bang Chan collapsed into the seat next to you. He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but as he turned away, eyes glued to the scene about to unfold, you saw that his features were strained and pale.
With a creak that send a hush rippling through the courtroom, the doors swung open to reveal more familiar faces — the judge, the prosecution, the jury. Your eyes instinctively flickered to Jisung, whose expression was as guarded as ever, and instantly felt a pang of guilt in your chest. The rest of the room, however, had fallen silent before the judge had even spoken. All their gazes were trained on the new prosecutor that had entered the room.
Seungmin felt the stares on him before he even looked up, dozens of eyes weighing down on him as if he were a butterfly pinned to a specimen table. He should have gotten used to the stares by now — this was far from his first court hearing — but when he looked out into the faces of the audience, he still felt the same squeamish anxiety he had always tried so desperately to ignore. Their expressions were dubious, condescending, unconvinced — as if all to say, is this a joke? This kid is the new lead prosecutor?
The judge cleared her throat, pushing her half-moon spectacles back onto her nose. “Thank you for your patience. The court hearing for Han Jisung and the Miroh Heights Murder Cases is now back in session. You may be seated.” She turned to Seungmin, eyes narrowed. “What is the case the prosecution will be presenting?”
Seungmin’s mind was racing as he turned over the envelope in his hands — the envelope containing Kang’s case file — and slid out the papers with numb fingertips. As he did so, familiar words echoed in his mind — words he had been told since he had first chosen to study law, and words he had forced himself to live by ever since.
“You have a big heart, Kim Seungmin — too big. Learn to control your emotions if you want to make it in this field.”
“You have to be cold, quick, and rational. Kindness is a weakness.”
“There is no room for a wavering heart in prosecution.”
He had always taken the words like bitter medicine, beyond determined to prove to his older coworkers that he wasn’t just the incompetent young prosecutor they always made him out to be. Desperate to prove to his family that he was capable, that he wouldn’t tarnish their names. Every step he had taken had been careful, calculated, all so that Seungmin could win their approval, finally escape their suffocating scrutiny.
“Your Honour,” Seungmin began, “as a prosecutor, I was taught that my duty is to defend the rule of law to ensure justice is served, no matter how harsh it may be.”
You watched the young prosecutor speak carefully, his grave expression making your gut twist. Kim Seungmin, Chan had told you once in passing, came from a family of established lawyers — a child prodigy with big shoes to fill, and everything to lose. And now, you realised with dread, his words seemed to be an exact echo of Prosecutor Kang’s.
Seungmin’s stomach was fluttering as if it were his first trial again, heart palpitating with each passing moment as he was seized with the sudden urge to run. Taking a deep breath, his gaze flickered up to meet yours in the audience — your blazing eyes, charged with emotion, your heart always written so clearly across your adamant features. You, who stopped at nothing in order to protect what you believed was right.
Prove yourself. Prove to everyone you’re good enough, strong enough.
He closed his eyes, knowing that he would regret what he was about to say.
“But I was also taught that a good prosecutor is one that uses the law to protect the people.” Seungmin swallowed hard, sliding Kang’s papers back into the envelope and dropping it onto the desk behind him. “Thus, the case I am presenting today is not one that intends to prove Han Jisung guilty of first degree murder.”
The entire room erupted in frantic murmurs, the judge hurriedly banging the gavel to maintain order. Seungmin caught a glimpse of Jisung’s expression — the boy was still looking down, but his face had paled in surprise at the prosecutor’s sudden declaration. Just then, the doors burst open, a red-faced clerk with a handful of padded envelopes ducking in and hurrying to Seungmin’s side.
“What you requested, sir,” the clerk explained quietly, handing him the envelopes, and Seungmin recalled the conversation they had had in the conference rooms, just before the trial had recommenced.
“There are ten minutes remaining until we have to begin,” the clerk informed Seungmin worriedly, seeing the young prosecutor’s tense face. “Is there anything you need from the former prosecution? Since these are special circumstances, I can have them brought to you as soon as possible during the trial.”
Either ten minutes to gather the evidence he needed, Seungmin thought dismally, or ten minutes to build a strong argument from what he—no, Kang—already had.
“Listen carefully.” Screwing his eyes shut, Seungmin continued, “Please fetch me Han Jisung’s camcorder footage — the memory cards — and Yang Jeongin’s Walkman tapes from Prosecutor Kang’s archives. All of them, immediately.”
The knot of anxiety in Seungmin’s chest finally began to unclench, the envelopes’ contents anchoring him in place with a reassuring weight. He turned to the judge, surprised at the newfound authority in his own voice. “The prosecution maintains that Han Jisung is not guilty of first degree murder. We will be presenting all the evidence Prosecutor Kang excluded, and examining the case from all angles so that the jury may form an accurate judgement and verdict.”
“That’s—an entirely new argument,” Hyunjin whispered incredulously beside you. “How did he come up with a case in ten minutes?”
“He didn’t. He’s building his case on the spot,” Chan realised out loud, a small smile spreading on his lips. He leaned forward with a glint of pride in his eyes. “Now that’s the Kim Seungmin I know.”
You watched as Seungmin called up his first witness, who was none other than Kang’s psychiatric expert. “You introduced yourself as the psychiatrist involved with this case — responsible for analysing the defendant’s mental condition, correct?”
The red-nosed man coughed nervously. “Y-yes, uh, well — the defendant was unwilling to speak during the evaluation, so we were unable to gain much personal testimony—”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Seungmin picked up one the envelopes, handing it to the court clerk and motioning for him to project the contents. “The following is recovered footage from a camcorder the defendant was gifted when he was six years old, and developed a habit of carrying around.” He turned towards the psychiatrist. “It’s raw, untampered footage containing experiences from the defendant’s childhood. I want you to watch it and answer a few questions. There is, however, graphic content, and I advise the spectators to view it with caution.”
You saw Seungmin cast a worried look towards Jisung, and you knew how the prosecutor was feeling. After nearly thirteen years of Jisung hiding his past from even his closest friends, it was all suddenly being thrust under the harsh light — in front of a roomful of people who wanted to sentence him to death, no less — but you both knew that this was your last chance.
The projector whirred as the clerk inserted the first memory cards into the computer. The memory cards had been confiscated by Kang before you had gotten the chance to watch them yourself — what you did know about the footage came from the bits Chan had recounted for you after several insistent phone calls, and what Jisung himself had told you that fateful night. Uneasiness stirring in your chest, you watched as the screen came to life, blurry colours and pixelated outlines taking shape.
There was nothing out of the ordinary at first — short clips of chipped action figures on dusty windowsills, or toy cars rolling idly across wooden floors. The footage was shaky, as if the person holding the camcorder could barely support its weight. Jisung had barely been six years old, you remembered, feeling a strange feeling of sadness wash over you. It was as if you were watching a movie you already knew the ending to, and all that was left in your gut was a sinking dread at what was about to come.
As the clerk flipped through the footage, a faint sound pricked at your ears, and you jerked your head up, listening to make sure you had heard right — and sure enough, there it was. Muffled shouting, like it was coming from another room in the house, something heavy shattering on the floor — and judging from the murmurs and faces of the spectators around you, they heard it as well. The camcorder was still pointed at the action figurines, but had frozen stiffly — as if the child holding it was listening, too.
More scenes began to unfold, one after another. A birthday, six lopsided candles glowing on a small white cake. Jisung humming a familiar tune with a woman you assumed was his mother. And clip after clip where the camcorder was pointed at the ceiling of a dark room — Jisung’s childhood bedroom — as the sounds of arguing and yelling echoed through the walls. Slowly but surely, the scenes began to grow familiar.
“February 22nd, 2005.”
The day Jisung had stumbled across another woman in his parents’ bed, and his father had terrorized him until he promised not to tell anyone.
“June 3rd, 2006.”
His face-to-face encounter with his father’s mistress, one that left scars in the form of cigarette burns, red-lipped smiles, and tainted touches.
“December 31st, 2009.”
The day everything had gone wrong.
Stomach lurching, you watched as everything Jisung had told you — his rough voice shaking in your darkened apartment, dark eyes holding nightmares of years long past — took the form of grainy camera footage. His father crashing through the doorframe, hands choking the life from the woman beneath him. Even though the camera quality was poor, the woman’s pleading eyes, rolled up towards the tiny crack in the closet where Jisung had been hidden, seemed to pierce directly through you.
It all seemed to happen in a flash — in the blink of an eye, there were flames licking bloodstained floors clean, the camcorder out of focus as Jisung limped through thick white snow and finally collapsed on top of his mother’s cold body. The gritty screams of anguish and pain seemed to ring in your ears long after Seungmin stopped the footage, and you lifted a shaking gaze to Jisung’s face. His eyes had been cast downwards the entire time, but even from across the room, you could see his violently trembling jaw, the ragged heave of his chest. How many times had he lived through this footage himself — in his nightmares, through half-delirious flashbacks, every time he closed his eyes?
“Thirteen years ago, there was a massive fire on the outskirts of Miroh Heights. The Han house was burned to the ground and left a single boy alive, without any relatives to take custody. Unable to fathom what exactly happened, police filed it away as a gas explosion, and the boy was tossed around foster homes and orphanages until it was eventually forgotten,” Seungmin informed them. He thanked Woojin internally as he spoke — after mentioning several times that Jisung’s past sounded strangely familiar, the police captain had been the one to finally connect the dots between the two cold cases, thirteen years apart.
“There were initial speculations of domestic abuse, but they were never investigated thoroughly. The case was neglected, left cold, and when the statute of limitations expired, it was simply dismissed as another tragedy.” Seungmin nodded at the clerk again, who slid the next memory card in.
This card was filled with what sounded like endless psychological evaluations — disembodied voices introducing themselves as social workers, child psychiatrists, and the like, all mercilessly bombarding Jisung with personal questions. The first half was either entirely black or out of focus, as if Jisung had been holding the camcorder down and clutching it close to his body. They had all given up when the young boy could barely get his answers out, the lingering fear and untreated trauma having locked his voice in his throat.
“He’s a lost cause.”
“Problem kid.”
“Impossible to treat.”
You clenched your fists every time a social worker left the room, muttering under their breath in annoyance. Then, as the clips grew clearer, a child with round, catlike eyes and a pale expression beginning to appear in several of the frames.
Lee Minho.
“At the beginning of this decade, we all know that Miroh Heights went through an economic rift — workers were laid off, young children abandoned on the streets. During these times, child abuse and child trafficking cases also skyrocketed.” Seungmin spoke as the screen flashed, the scene now showing what looked like a filthy, unfinished basement floor.
“We witnessed a rise of ‘suicide killers’ — namely, perpetrators who would kidnap and murder their own family members or vulnerable strangers before ending their own lives. Many were acting on their anger and grief through violence; others saw it as a form of revenge.”
With a wince, you remembered what Minho had told you on the rooftop of the hospital that evening — when he and Jisung had been lured into a man’s home by their own hunger, and woke up to him trying to kill them. The sound of approaching footsteps filled the speakers, the camcorder pointed at an awkward angle and shaking uncontrollably before it clattered to the ground, and the footage cut out.
When the next clip began, it was pointed down at wide-eyed, twelve-year-old Jisung.
“Ah, now this is jus’ perfect. The cops’ll love this, yes they will.” You shivered at the man’s hoarse voice behind the camcorder, flinching as the barrel of a gun was pressed to Jisung’s forehead. “Now, boy — I want you to beg for your life — go on.”
Frozen in your seat, you watched as all hell broke loose — the man pressing the trigger just as Jisung managed to cut the cords free, the camcorder smashing into concrete as Jisung fought for his life. When the lens finally focused again, what you saw made your blood run cold. A twelve-year-old boy kneeling before the mangled corpse of a grown man, cherub-like face drenched with crimson. You heard Minho’s shallow, terrified breathing behind the camcorder as Jisung turned towards him, the look in his eyes sending an icy chill down your spine. It was the exact same look he had given you when you had found him at the diner, screaming out his name as if trying to wake him from a nightmare.
Emptiness.
Even through the grainy film, you could catch the moment Jisung’s consciousness returned to him, soft brown eyes shifting and focusing into a childlike, dazed expression once again.
“Minho, can we go home?”
The footage sputtered to a stop. The visceral scene had been exactly as the coroner had described to you on the hospital rooftop, and yet nothing could have prepared you for it. You only realised how badly you had been shaking when Felix gently nudged you, peering at your face worriedly. When you forced yourself to unclench your fists, you winced at the red half-moon weals your nails had left in your palms.
“Both the defendant and coroner Lee Minho were involved in a kidnapping case, and subjected to extreme violence at the ages of twelve and thirteen. The perpetrator died in the incident. There was no culprit to catch. Once again, the case was buried, under the economic turmoil Miroh Heights was experiencing, by neglectful law enforcement.”
Seungmin turned back to look at the psychiatrist. “Now, I’m no expert in analysing family matters, but I think we can confirm several cases of domestic abuse from this footage alone. Parental neglect. Repeated exposure to violence. Years of sexual harassment. How would you psychoanalyse a patient who has gone through these events?”
The red-faced man was evidently shaken, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stuttered out, “This — this is more than enough to cause severe cases of post-traumatic stress disorder.” His eyes darted around the courtroom nervously, as if the words were refusing to come out of his mouth.
“He looks like he’s scared,” you murmured. “Like he’s still unwilling to talk.”
“Kang must have made some sort of a deal with him,” Woojin replied under his breath, shaking his head. “But it’s all over now — he’s got nothing more to lose.”
“You swore an oath before the trial began,” Seungmin pressed sternly, not taking his gaze off the nervous man. “‘I do solemnly declare that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.’ Tell me the truth, sir.”
Cowering under Seungmin’s hard gaze, the psychiatrist finally caved. “The...the fact that these events took place during the defendant’s childhood is even more significant. Children’s minds are—are molded from a very young age. The majority of your adult behaviour is shaped by what you’ve experienced as a child, you see.”
“Earlier, you mentioned the possibility of sociopathy. You reached this conclusion because of the defendant’s criminal records, and reported behaviour such as —” Seungmin pulled out Kang’s papers, quickly flipping through. “Theft. Pyromanic, destructive, and self-destructive tendencies.” He raised an eyebrow at the boys from the diner attack. “Bordering on multiple personas.”
“U-uh, well — using the information given during the previous trial, those symptoms did correlate strongly with antisocial personality disorder. But with this newfound context —” the psychiatrist lowered his head meekly, “th-the symptoms are actually closer to those of an individual suffering from extreme, untreated, PTSD.”
Exhaling slowly, Seungmin nodded at the judge. “Post-traumatic stress disorder. Let’s re-examine the defendant’s behaviour under this lens, then. How would PTSD explain violent tendencies in a child?”
“They’re a form of an exaggerated startle response — a sudden reaction triggered by something that upsets the patient. It’s a common long-term aftereffect of childhood abuse or trauma. Some patients fall unconscious, some experience panic attacks or seizures. In the case of Han Jisung...it came in the form of repeated violent outbursts.”
You thought back to the man Jisung had attacked, seemingly out of nowhere at the Yellow Wood — the dead man whose girlfriend, Chan had told you, had actually come to the precinct a few days before Jisung’s trial.
“She was crying real bad. I thought she would want him—Jisung—dead, that she would tell us to convict him, no matter what,” Chan had told you, the detective’s face still twisted in confusion. “And she doesn’t want to testify — she’s still dealing with the trauma, and doesn’t want anything to do with the trial. But y/n — the girl was crying for him. For Jisung. Said that the kid stepped in right when her boyfriend was hitting her, and — told her to go home.”
An exaggerated startle response. You remembered it from your classes, a sudden reaction triggered by something that upset the patient. Like domestic abuse. Unsolicited sexual approaches. Or, you shivered, little things — like the colour red. His father, his mistress, his mother, his kidnapper — did Jisung constantly see their faces in the shadows, in strangers that were repeating the same mistakes?
“The witnesses who knew Han Jisung when he was younger,” Seungmin continued, turning to the two injured boys from the diner, “also testified that he often changed expressions ‘like a mask.’ Assuming this is true, why might the defendant exhibit this sort of behaviour?”
“Abused children — or people who have experienced severe trauma — can develop dissociative habits. Disconnecting from past memories, information, or even present experiences as a defense mechanism...which is why the defendant might appear to change moods often, or show drastically different sides of himself in different situations.”
“In other words,” Seungmin said slowly, brow furrowing in concentration, “the defendant experienced so many traumatic events during his childhood, that the untreated aftereffects impaired his emotional development into adulthood. Which would explain why his startle response slowly morphed, on a larger scale, into something extremely violent and dangerous.”
The psychiatrist looked weary and defeated. “Correct.”
Motioning for the man to take a seat — which he did gladly — Seungmin pulled out the next envelope — the coroner’s photos from the Yellow Wood attacks. Wordlessly, he projected them onto the screen, eliciting small gasps of horror and disgust around the room.
“Earlier, Prosecutor Kang argued that the violent mutilation of the victims was proof that the perpetrator performed these gruesome acts and mutilations out of personal enjoyment and depravity.” Seungmin turned to address the judge, voice firm.
“Your Honour, under this new context, I would argue that the photos only serve as further visual evidence depicting the defendant’s mental state at the time of the crime.” He flipped through the images. “Multiple wound sites, messy blood spattering, extreme blunt force trauma. And—if the coroner was telling the truth—a stone from the scene of the crime as the murder weapon. All these signs lead us to believe that the defendant’s actions, no, his judgement, was acutely impaired. This response, these attacks, were triggered due to a pre-existing mental condition.”
The room shifted uneasily as his words sunk in, and the judge fixed her stern gaze onto Seungmin. “Does the prosecution have any evidence that directly refutes the previous claim of first degree murder? To prove that the murders were not premeditated, or intentional, beyond a reasonable doubt?”
Think, Seungmin, think. He racked his mind furiously, trying to recall every piece of evidence that you, Chan, and Woojin had gone through with him. Photographs, diagrams, testimony transcripts — Seungmin’s eyes trailed off to the pile of envelopes the clerk had brought, and landed on the packet containing Yang Jeongin’s tapes.
That’s it.
“Yes, Your Honour.” He cleared his throat, mind racing to connect the dots. “As we all know, the living witness of the Yellow Wood attacks, Yang Jeongin, was attacked at around three o’clock in the morning. He worked several late shifts for delivery companies around the town.” Seungmin nodded towards Jeongin. “What we did not know until recently, however, is that the witness had a hobby of recording himself during these shifts on his own Walkman.”
An alarmed murmur rippled through the crowd as Seungmin shook the tapes out from the envelope, handing them to the clerk. After several tense moments, there was a faint crackling, and the recording began to play.
The first tape held a medley of acoustic songs the delivery boy had mixed himself — just as you had remembered it.
The second tape was empty — the one Minho had stolen from the scene of the crime, and you had eventually recovered from his office.
When the clerk popped in the third, the soft sound of breathing and crunching gravel filled the room, and you shivered. This was the tape you had listened to with Seo Changbin — the tape that had turned your entire life upside down.
“I.N. here! It is currently...2:04 A.M.!”
You glanced at the faces around the room — everyone was on edge, and you felt no different. You could still hear Jeongin’s cry of surprise and pain echoing in your ears, the horrible crash as he hit the forest floor. What was Seungmin thinking? How was a recording of the witness being attacked going to prove Jisung’s innocence? If anything, it was incriminating evidence.
Jeongin’s cheery, oblivious voice continued until you heard the woman’s scream in the distance, muffled under the delivery boy’s distracted humming. Then, a man crying out in guttural pain — the man, you knew now, that had been killed by Jisung in the Yellow Wood. The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping under the bicycle wheels grew louder, and you knew that this had been the moment Jeongin had entered the Wood — heading closer and closer towards what would later become the scene of the crime.
“Hello? Is everything okay over there?” There was a small gasp of horror as Jeongin caught sight of the body. “U-um. Is he—do you need help? I can call an ambulance. What hap—”
It happened before you could flinch to cover your ears. The horribly familiar crunch of stone meeting skull, a cry of pain cut off by a deafening whump as the Walkman had slammed against the ground. The entire courtroom seemed to hold its breath as it listened, and only then did it finally hit you why Seungmin was playing the tapes. As the sound of another boy’s jagged, uneven breathing filled the speakers, you suddenly remembered what came at the end of the recording. The first time you had heard it, it had made your heart plummet straight down into the pit of your stomach, sending your entire world crashing down around you.
This time, the fluttering in your chest felt almost like hope.
Han Jisung’s voice, choked with raw, horrified sobs, echoed through the room, and you saw everyone freeze.
“Who—why? Why is it you? Why are you here?”
The crying was muffled by the sound of hands fumbling over Jeongin’s clothing, as if frantically checking for a pulse. Seungmin stopped the tape, turning towards the bewildered jury. “Do those sound like the words of a cold-blooded psychopath?”
The judge waved a hand towards Jeongin. “Can the witness himself attest to this?”
“I...I blacked out pretty quickly,” Jeongin answered slowly, furrowing his brow as if it still hurt to remember. “But the last thing I remembered seeing was...a boy’s crying face over me, trying to make sure if I was okay.”
“Can you identify this boy?”
Nodding, Jeongin pointed to Jisung.
“Furthermore,” Seungmin continued, tapping the cracked silver Walkman, “these tapes were found in Yang Jeongin’s clothing after he was admitted to the hospital. If the defendant had truly attacked Mr. Yang out of cold blood, he wouldn’t have left such incriminating evidence in the boy’s hands. And if Han Jisung had no idea he was being recorded, that rules out the possibility of him faking the recordings as well.”
“Even so,” the judge replied, stern eyes narrowed, “we cannot be sure that Han Jisung did not intend to leave Yang Jeongin to die. There are many murder cases where the perpetrator shows remorse almost immediately, but still attempted to cover up the crime.”
“Of course. However, Your Honour, you may also remember that Yang Jeongin was not found in the Yellow Wood where the attacks had initially taken place...but rather, the doorstep of Glow Cafe.” At this, Hyunjin looked up, eyes narrowed, and Seungmin motioned for the clerk to continue playing the clip. After several moments, you heard the rough sound of cloth scraping against the ground, growing louder and louder — as if something was being lifted and dragged.
No. You could still hear Jisung’s broken breathing underneath the sound, and the realisation hit you.
Jisung was carrying Jeongin’s body.
You had thought the tape had already ended the first time you’d listened with Seo Changbin in his record shop — after Jisung’s voice had made you shove the Walkman away, not daring to believe what you had just heard. For days, it had sat, neglected in your apartment, until you had brought it into Seungmin’s office for him to look at. The next day, it had already fallen into the hands of Prosecutor Kang, but by some stroke of luck, Seungmin must have already managed to listen to it in its entirety beforehand.
“Yang Jeongin was found at around 4 in the morning, when Hwang Hyunjin, the owner of Glow Cafe, was awoken by the doorbell. The ringer of this doorbell was never identified, because any possible fingerprint evidence was already contaminated and rendered useless by the time Mr. Yang was safely transported to the ICU.”
The sound of dead leaves and dirt crunching under the soles of Jisung’s shoes gave way to hard concrete as he reached the main road. There was a soft thump as Jeongin was lowered onto the ground, Jisung’s laboured breathing filling the still night air.
Then the familiar chime of Glow Cafe’s doorbell pierced through the speakers, and you watched as Hyunjin jolted up, mouth falling open in disbelief.
“Yes. It’s exactly what you’re all thinking.” Seungmin turned to face the stunned spectators as the sound of Jisung’s footsteps grew fainter as he ran away, and the tape ended. “The defendant was the same person who saved him.”
The judge cleared her throat unsteadily, grim eyes flickering between Seungmin and Jisung. “Does the defense have anything to say to this?”
For the first time since the trial had started, Jisung lifted his head. He was met with a roomful of mixed stares — apprehension, curiosity, fear — and he felt his tongue immediately dissolve into dust, the words sticking to his throat like congealed poison.
When Jisung stayed silent, Seungmin spoke carefully, “A fair trial wouldn’t be complete without hearing from the defendant himself. In his own words.” His eyes were almost gentle, fixing a steady look on Jisung’s dark, wary face. “Would you like to testify?”
Your heart was hammering in your throat as the silence grew thicker and thicker. After what felt like an eternity, it was finally broken by the creak of the chair as Jisung pushed it back and stood up. To your utter surprise, he stepped up to the middle of the room, wordlessly turning to face Seungmin. Still, the look on his face held the same blank, guarded expression you had seen so many times when your sessions with him had taken a turn for the worse, and you gripped the edge of your seat uneasily, having no idea what to expect from this turn of events.
If Seungmin was as surprised as you were, he did a better job at hiding it. He muttered something to the clerk, who began to project familiar faces and photos onto the screen. The victims, you realised, and the crime scenes. A slim woman in her thirties, her thin lips a smudge of bright red, next to a photo of charred blood and bone. The prostitute.
“Do you recognise this woman?” Seungmin asked, pointing to her picture.
Jisung frowned, furrowing his brow at the picture. Something seemed to stir in the back of his mind, but there was a dull throbbing in his temples that made it difficult to focus. “I—I’m not sure.”
Someone in the crowd made an unconvinced sound, and Jisung shrunk back. The pictures went on and on — a corpse mangled with chemical burns, a man’s body swinging from the rooftop, a bashed-in skull on the forest floor. Each image made Jisung’s head pound, the floor beginning to spin as if threatening to split open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. Did he recognise them? Glimpses of their faces flashed in the back of his mind like jumbled jigsaw pieces, but the more he tried to grab onto them, the more they fell apart. His fingertips tingled with the faint, itching memory of a stranger’s blood — strangers who, in a fleeting moment, had taken the shape of a former tormentor. Father. Mistress. Hurt. Pain.
“I can’t — remember anything,” Jisung choked hoarsely. He remembered blacking out, and waking up. He remembered his nightmares, his flashbacks. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember the faces staring back at him from the screen.
You sound insane, a voice in the back of his mind hissed. As he met the eyes of the jury, he could almost hear what they were thinking.
You really are a psychopath.
Sensing the doubtful whispering beginning around the room, Seungmin hurriedly moved onto the next question. “Let’s — let’s go back to the psychiatrist’s statements, then. Mr. Han, could you tell me what it was like growing up in your family?”
His question was met with silence again, Jisung screwing his eyes shut as the prosecutor’s voice echoed in his head. Family. It was a word that brought ugly memories bubbling to the surface every time, memories made of broken beer bottles and pale, bruised cheeks. His head was aching, a cold sweat forming in his palms as he clenched his fists, stomach churning. No. No. He couldn’t talk about it — wouldn’t talk about it —
“Can you...tell me about your mother’s eyes?”
The abrupt, familiar question, carried by the prosecutor’s softened voice, was what made Jisung open his eyes again, the trembling in his hands stilling. The room around them was shifting with confused murmurs at the strange question, but Seungmin didn’t break eye contact with the younger boy.
The prosecutor watched Jisung’s fists slowly unclench, brow furrowing slightly as he recognised the question, and Seungmin thought back to the conversation he had had with you over the phone after you had woken up in the hospital.
“What’s this?”
“A psychiatric analysis — on Jisung,” you explained, referring to the report files you had sent the prosecutor. “I know it’s not — not much, but...”
“For all we know, it might be the only existing verbal testimony that Jisung has,” Seungmin assured you. “From what I’ve heard, he’s never opened up to anyone before. What I meant was, why are you sending it to me?”
You bit your lip. “Chan isn’t allowed to stand trial, and I — I haven’t graduated yet, so my thesis won’t be taken seriously as evidence. I can’t testify as a psychiatric expert, either. But I thought that — I could at least tell you all the questions that lead me to his diagnosis. In case you get to question him at the trial — he’ll know they’re my questions. Maybe...he’ll finally change his mind.”
Seungmin sighed wearily. “I was removed from the case this morning, Miss l/n. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to step foot into the courtroom, let alone question him.”
And so the questions had been left, buried and forgotten in the back of Seungmin’s mind — until this exact moment, when he had remembered them just in time.
What comes to mind when you think about your mother’s eyes?
Jisung’s vision went black as his senses were flooded with memories, nearly sending him doubling over. His mother’s eyes. The last time he had looked into those eyes, they had already been glazing over, the life in them seeping away as her blood pooled over the broken floorboards of his childhood home. His mother’s eyes. Suddenly, it was as if he was ten years old all over again, shrouded in the shadows of a cramped closet as his father strangled the life out of his mother right in front of him.
Guilt, he wanted to say. Pain. The kind that never goes away. Blinking feverishly, Jisung’s gaze darted around the room — and when he finally found your face in the audience, he felt his heart stop.
You were looking at him with the exact same eyes his mother had, that day.
From your first date to this very moment, Jisung never knew why you had always reminded him so much of her — you two looked nothing alike, after all. Wherever he went, he had always been chased by fragments of the nightmares he wanted to forget, demons of his past that had taken the forms of the man at the Yellow Wood, the red-lipped hooker, Na Jangmin, Park Beomsoo. And yet every moment he spent with you, he caught familiar glimpses of her instead — pieces of the only warmth, and happiness, and home he had ever known before it had all been cruelly ripped away.
For years, the only thing he had been able to remember was that day. How his mother’s eyes had been wide and pleading as she bled out on the floor, desperately shaking her head at him before finally falling limp. The flames and endless smoke seemed to eat away at his happier memories until there was nothing left but ashes and tar.
But you made him remember a time before everything went wrong, when things had been peaceful, when he still had somewhere — someone — to go home to.
For thirteen years, he had been running from the memory, from the feeling, afraid that confronting it would make him relive the pain all over again. But now, for the first time, Han Jisung wondered if he had missed something else among those repressed memories all along.
His mother’s eyes as she shook her head one last time had been warm, not just because they had been filled with pain and tears — but because they had been blazing with one last, unspoken message. The same one he saw reflected in your own eyes now.
When you shook your own head gently, pleading eyes brimming with tears, the message finally rang clear in his mind.
Don’t blame yourself for what happened. Han Jisung, you have to keep on living.
Stunned, he tore his gaze away, only to see Bang Chan watching him with the same expression — then Woojin, Seungmin, Felix, Yang Jeongin. Even Hwang Hyunjin had worry written all over his face — worry for him — and it all suddenly hit Jisung like a punch in the gut.
Why did all these people fight for him?
Why had his mother died for him?
What comes to mind when you think about your mother’s eyes?
“Love,” Jisung breathed, his soft voice filling the empty silence. “Love.” The memories were coming back to him now — not in jagged, gut-wrenching flashes, but slowly. Steadily.
For the first time in his life, Han Jisung was in control.
“Can you tell me about your parents?” Seungmin pressed gently, seeing the tension slowly leave Jisung’s body.
“My parents,” Jisung repeated. His mouth felt like it was trying the words out. He remembered once, when you had asked him the same question, his head had felt like it was on the verge of splitting. Now, the memories felt strangely detached, as if he were telling someone else’s story. “They were happy once, or at least that’s what I’ve heard.” He paused. “My...father...never wanted to get married. They never planned to...have me, but my mother refused an abortion. They — it was a shotgun wedding,” Jisung finished quietly. “And then things got worse from there.”
“What was it like growing up in your family?” Seungmin tried the question again, watching Jisung carefully.
“My old man’s favourite thing to tell me growing up was how I was never wanted,” Jisung gave a weak smile. “I think you can imagine.”
You watched as Seungmin continued asking Jisung your questions, as if slowly coaxing the answers out from the darkness and painting the cold courtroom with the scenes of Jisung’s past.
“My mother was a waitress. The work was tough, but it didn’t pay much. My father convinced her to work more shifts, so that she was around as little as possible. During that time, he…” Jisung swallowed hard. “He had his affairs with other women when she wasn’t home, and beat her bloody when she was. She always tried to hide it from me, too — said the less I knew the better, but I was getting older, and my father’s anger was slowly shifting over to me. And when his...mistresses stayed over, they started noticing me, too.” Jisung fell silent then, and you suddenly thought back to the white burn scars on his arms and legs, the numerous unexplained markings on his stomach bringing tears to your eyes. How many more did he have hidden on his body, painful reminders binding him to a past he tried so hard to forget?
“Your Honour,” Seungmin finally broke the hushed silence, “with all the information taken into consideration, I think we can confirm beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant has witnessed numerous traumatic events during his childhood — and that they more than likely worsened his mental condition as he grew older.” Seungmin turned to Jisung, remembering another question you had written in your report. “How...do you cope with the past?”
Jisung was silent for several moments before answering, his words echoing your last therapy session. “I...don’t….like to think about it, or remember it. Every time I do, I…” he trailed off unsteadily, and he tried again. “E-every time, I...I…”
His throat was closing up again, the words echoing in his mind as if mocking him. How was he supposed to explain the headaches that never truly went away, the dizziness that hit him like a punch in the gut? Or, worse, the gaps in his memories when he blacked out, making him feel as though he were slowly going insane?
Stay silent, whispered a voice in the back of his head. Who will understand you? Who will believe you? He looked back at the roomful of faces, their cold, wary stares piercing through him like knives. You were never meant to live. You should have died on that day, thirteen years ago—
“Han Jisung, you are such an idiot.”
The sudden memory of your voice cut through his thoughts and made him jolt in surprise— but it didn’t stop there, all the things you had once told him slowly growing louder and louder and jarring him awake from his own thoughts.
“You’re not the psychopath they’re making you out to be. I know you.”
He remembered the way you had relaxed and fallen asleep in his arms, even after you had found out they were stained with blood, because you trusted him completely.
“I don’t want you to show me. I want you to tell me. I want to hear it from you, in your own words, Jisung.”
He remembered your face every time he had tried to tell you about his past — your soft, patient eyes and gentle voice, the worry and genuine concern on your face that he had always mistaken for repulsion and fear. You had been shaken, definitely, terrified, even — but you had always been willing to listen to him speak, even when Jisung had been too afraid to try.
“I like you, Han Jisung. I. Like. You.”
He met your eyes across the room then, and felt a small, incredulous breath leave his lips. It was you — it was always you, who had the power to make the walls he had built around himself crumble to dust with a single touch; you, pulling him out of the darkness he had always succumbed helplessly to; you, who had finally woken him from the living nightmare he had been trapped in his entire life.
You reminded him what it was like to live again. You made him want to live again, without fears, without regrets.
“Mr. Han? Could you please describe how these memories make you feel? How you usually deal with them?”
“I don’t know how to,” Jisung breathed out at last. “Every time I try to remember, my...heart starts racing like my chest is about to burst. My head pounds until I can’t see anything, and — it’s like something in there...snaps. And then I...black out completely.”
Seungmin nodded, glancing back to the nervous, red-faced man. “Do you have...anything to add or deny regarding the psychiatrist’s diagnoses?”
“You were right,” Jisung replied simply, but he wasn’t talking to the psychiatrist. He was looking straight at you, and to his own surprise, a smile tugged at his dry lips. It felt like the simple sentence had somehow set him free. “I have trouble sleeping, because I always end up having the same nightmares. There’s missing blank spots in my memories when I wake up in a place I don’t recognise, with no idea how I got there.”
Jisung watched as your eyes widened, recognising his words — he was echoing the same symptoms you had confronted him about during your last therapy session, the ones he had coldly denied out of panic and fear. “I’ve always been afraid to let people get close to me. But sometimes, there are things that — that remind me of times that I’d rather forget, and before I know it, everything begins to spiral out of control.” He gave a small smile to Seungmin, who had stayed silent, surprised at Jisung’s sudden honesty. “That’s it, then. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
You watched as Jisung’s eyes flickered around the room, face as open and tranquil as a child’s — and that was what nearly broke your heart. Knowing that somewhere, beneath the prison uniform that was too baggy for his lean, tired frame, was the shell of a child the world had failed, a child that had given up asking to be saved.
“No further questions,” Seungmin said quietly, and Jisung walked back to his seat as the young prosecutor turned to face the judge. “Your Honour,” he began slowly, as if momentarily unable to find the words. “I think we have reason to believe that the attacks were provoked — not exactly by the victims themselves, but from past traumas that were never dealt with properly, and triggered again and again until they spiralled out of control.”
Seungmin raised his voice then, for the entire courtroom to hear, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the fluttering nerves in his body. “The scattered killing patterns were never planned. The correlations between the victims and causes of death don’t show a serial killer’s M.O., they show triggers.” He took a shaky breath.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this isn’t a serial killer case. It isn’t the case of a psychopath on some nonsensical, murderous rampage. This is the aftereffect of a domestic violence case gone cold and swept under the rug over a decade ago — and we can’t afford to let it slip away again.”
The judge fixed Seungmin with a cold, steely look over her glasses. “Prosecutor Kim. Remember that you cannot — should not — let your emotions get in the way in a court of law. You are supposed to assess the case with cold reasoning and logic.”
Seungmin looked down, heart hammering in his throat. The Kim Seungmin he knew would have been ashamed, and apologised immediately. The Kim Seungmin he knew would have thought he was crazy for crossing the line.
He realised, in that moment, that he hated the old Kim Seungmin with a passion.
“Emotions don’t always get in the way,” he found himself saying, eyes flickering to you in the audience, “and they don’t always make you weak.” Seungmin thought of Prosecutor Kang then, and his voice grew stronger. “If anything, they keep you human.”
He looked back up at the judge now, whose face had frozen in surprise. “When did justice become so cold? We’re taught that the law is supposed to protect the vulnerable, not prosecute them.”
The judge looked visibly shaken, mouth opening and closing wordlessly as her eyes darted wildly between Seungmin and Jisung. Finally, with an unfathomable expression on her face, she turned towards the jury, clearing her throat unsteadily.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that concludes the evidence to be presented on this case. You are now to deliberate, and determine whether or not Han Jisung is guilty of nineteen counts of first-degree murder, assault, and arson.
“If you believe that this has been proved beyond a reasonable doubt, then you should find the defendant guilty, and eligible for capital punishment.”
Capital punishment, you thought, the words sweeping a breath of cold across the room. The death penalty.
“The court stands adjourned until the verdict of the jury.”
━━━━━━━━
Over an hour had passed since the jury had stepped into the deliberation suite, and each tick of the clock on the wall made you more and more nauseous. You put your head down, hands buried in your hair as if that could calm the anxiety thrumming through your veins. A few times, you had heard shouting and angry, raised voices coming from the room the jury was in. Each passing minute seemed to make the weight of the situation more obvious, the tension in the courtroom thick and suffocating.
Felix was rubbing your back as soothingly as he could. “y/n, hey, look at me — deep breaths, okay? You’re okay—”
He was cut off when you lifted your head to look at him, cursing the tears already welling in your eyes. You hated feeling this way — you felt so weak and powerless, and just imagining how much of a mess you must have looked made it even worse. You promised yourself you would stay calm, but every thought that crossed your mind kept leading to another until you were exhausted and overwhelmed.
“They could walk out any minute, ‘lix,” you told him, voice wavering as the weight of your own words sunk in. “They could walk out any minute, and end his life.”
You couldn’t even say Jisung’s name out loud, let alone look him in the eyes. Felix watched as you wiped furiously at your own tears, the sight of you so distressed rendering him speechless, and he did the only thing he could think of. Grimly, your best friend pulled you into a hug, and his reassuring warmth in the cold courtroom made you want to break down all over again. Around you, you could hear mixed opinions being exchanged.
“That poor boy.”
“Who could have guessed the case would take a turn like this? But do you believe him?”
“A murderer is still a murderer — he’s too dangerous to be left alive, don’t you think?”
You were beginning to wish you had taken Hyunjin and Woojin’s offer to step out of the room for fresh air when the heavy doors swung open, making a hush fall over the room. The jury filed in just as Hyunjin and the police captain returned and took their seats.
“Order in the court,” the clerk called, and the judge cleared her throat.
“Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?”
The forewoman nodded grimly. “Yes, Your Honour.”
“Those in favour of sentencing the accused, Han Jisung, to capital punishment, please rise.”
The words sent an icy shock down your spine, the entire room seeming to hold its breath as they watched the jury. You didn’t dare move, as if by doing so, you could prevent the next moments from coming crashing down on you, as if somehow, you could stop the horrible verdict from coming true. It was as if everyone had frozen still, time stopping for what felt like the longest moment of your life.
The ticking of the clock pricked your ears, and you suddenly realised that time hadn’t stopped.
No one in the jury had moved to stand up.
“The jury returns a verdict of not guilty, despite believing that the accused committed the crimes he is charged with,” the forewoman standing at the front of the jury said, and the members behind her nodded. “This verdict was unanimous.”
“They all agree that Jisung killed those people,” you heard Hyunjin’s stunned voice behind you, “but they’re returning a verdict of not guilty? What does that mean?”
“Jury nullification,” both Chan and Seungmin spoke at the same time, and the room turned to look at the younger prosecutor as he spoke up.
“The jury has the right to overturn the law, if they believe the law was used incorrectly—”
A reporter behind you blurted out angrily, “Are you suggesting that the murders were delusional, Prosecutor Kim?”
“Or,” Seungmin continued, his voice growing stronger than ever before as he saw the eyes of the judge and his coworkers widen in disbelief. I must be insane, he thought, but he couldn’t stop the words coming from his mouth. “Or, the jury disagrees with the law the prosecution has chosen to charge the defendant under.” He picked up Prosecutor Kang’s case file from the desk, flipping over the papers. “First degree murder.”
The forewoman nodded. “The law Han Jisung is being tried with was immorally and wrongly applied to him in the first place. We believe he caused the killings, without a doubt, but with the circumstances presented, we cannot convict him of serial first degree murder.”
“The previous prosecutor claimed these charges without making any effort to consider Han Jisung’s past,” one man on the jury added, “All the evidence proves a history of abuse and trauma that lead to an unstable mental condition.”
Their words sounded strangely familiar, and your eyes immediately widened when you realised why. “Those — those are the words from my psych report,” you whispered breathlessly to Felix, “Quoted, word for word. They must have all read your articles — we did it, ‘lix, it really worked.”
“But murder is murder. He should be held accountable,” a spectator protested across the room. He was immediately silenced by the bailiff, but not before Seungmin turned to him with a steady stare.
“‘Murder is murder’,” Seungmin echoed, “‘The world of law is cold.’ ‘The law is harsh, but it is the law.’ Those are the phrases you always hear in court. And those are the same beliefs that cost vulnerable people their lives.”
Hyunjin looked at Jeongin, whose gaze were cast to the floor, eyes stormy.
Seungmin continued, “You lose your empathy, and mark complex cases like these under ‘mass murderer’, or ‘psychopath’ without bothering to truly investigate the gray areas, because you think doing so would be—” his mind flashed to Kang, “a waste of time.” He looked at Jisung now, a boy who had been confined by labels his entire life: problem child, delinquent, murderer, monster. “Han Jisung is worth more than that. There’s more to him than his past, than his abusers, than the mental torment he’s suffered through for years.
“He’s a boy who never got the chance at life he deserved. The system has failed him once, and we cannot — should not — hold his trial like this.” Seungmin turned to the judge one last time, eyes burning with sincerity. “Your Honour. Will you end this vicious cycle of use and abuse, once and for all? Or will you choose, once again, to sweep it back into the shadows?”
She was staring back at him with a look that should have petrified Seungmin on the spot, but he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stand his ground. There was a long, weighted silence. Finally, the judge shook her head slowly, and Seungmin swore he saw the smallest of smiles tug at her taut mouth as she turned to face the rest of the courtroom.
You felt your heart nearly leap out of your throat when the verdict finally fell from the judge’s lips.
“I hereby pronounce Han Jisung...not guilty.”
If you hadn’t been sitting down, you were sure you would have collapsed onto the floor.
The world was spinning around you, the sheer relief washing over you in overwhelming waves and turning your limbs to jelly. In your peripheral vision, you saw Hyunjin’s mouth drop open in astonishment, Felix turning to you with an incredulous smile on his face, Chan and Woojin completely frozen.
You barely registered the judge’s voice as she continued speaking, the rest of her words passing through you as if you were made of thin air. Pardoned on the death of his father and the arson of his childhood home by reason of self-defense. Regarding the Miroh Heights killings, the defendant was unable to understand the significance of his criminal actions due to a pre-existing mental condition. He is acquitted from the death penalty, and will serve no prison time.
However, he will be transferred to a psychiatric institution and closely monitored for the time being. The suitable amount of time he is to spend there will be prescribed on a later date after the case is properly re-examined...
People were talking around you, one of your friends was calling your name, and you swore you even heard a few people clapping, but you weren’t listening anymore. There was only one other person on your mind.
When your eyes found Jisung’s face, he was looking straight at you — with the same look in his eyes that had given you butterflies the first time you met him, and the same look in his eyes you had seen before you had fallen unconscious, bleeding out in his arms.
He was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
━━━━━━━━
“You had some nerve back there, Prosecutor Kim.”
The courtroom had been emptied out, and Seungmin had been collecting his files and notes when he heard a voice from behind him. At first, he thought he had misheard — people were buzzing outside in the lobby, the commotion so loud it seemed to be humming through the walls — but he turned around, and saw the judge walking up to him.
Bits and pieces of the trial came back to him, and Seungmin cringed inwardly as he met her hard gaze. Just how many lines had he crossed? Years of being careful, meticulous, completely down the drain—
“You had some nerve back there,” she repeated, and Seungmin lowered his eyes. He heard her sigh deeply. “But you’re a fine prosecutor, Kim.”
Stunned, Seungmin raised his head, and realised with a start that she was smiling at him. “I haven’t seen your kind in a while. It was refreshing, to say the least, and it puts me at ease to know that this field still has people like you.”
She tucked her glasses into her robes, turning to leave.
“Never change, Prosecutor Kim.”
━━━━━━━━
“Prosecutor Kang, look this way!”
Kang was blinded by flashing cameras the moment he stepped out from the holding cell. The older prosecutor’s eyes were dark as he was pushed through the mob of reporters and citizens, the guards flanking him making no effort to be gentle.
“Is it true you hid crucial evidence from your own prosecution?”
“Did you bribe your own witnesses?”
“How many other cases have you tampered with?”
“None!” Kang snarled at the reporter, desperation rising in his throat like bile. “Lies—I’ve never wrongfully convicted a single person. These are all—”
“You’re the liar.”
The crowd stopped, turning towards the voice that had shouted over them. Yang Jeongin was standing at the end of the hallway, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Just the sight of Kang was enough to make him tremble like a young child again, words stuck momentarily in his throat. This was the same man he had met in court all those years ago, the man who had mercilessly delivered his father’s life sentence with a snakelike smile on his pale lips. Taking a shaky breath, Jeongin mustered up his courage, and ran up to him.
“Please stop this already,” Jeongin pleaded, eyes searching Kang’s bewildered face for signs of guilt, remorse, anything. Kang didn’t seem to recognise him, and the young boy’s voice was breaking as he fought back tears. “Please tell the truth, just this once. I-I don’t know why you’re doing this, but—it doesn’t have to be this way—”
There was a gasp as a few reporters stumbled, and the crowd rippled forward. Kang was knocked off-balance, tumbling to the ground. He cursed, fumbling to get back on his feet — and saw a hand, outstretched towards him from a hoodie sleeve that was clearly too large for its owner. He looked up into the young boy’s face again, his fox-like eyes widened in concern, and finally realised with a jolt who he was talking to.
Nearly a decade ago, Kang thought — an old fool who had picked a fight with high-ranking company officials, no? And then the crackpot had pleaded with Kang, saying something about a son he had to take care of — a young boy—
Jeongin put his hand on Kang’s arm when the prosecutor didn’t move, and pulled him up. “Mr. Kang, my father—”
Feeling a sudden rage surge through his body, Kang drew his fist back and punched the boy across his jaw.
Jeongin crumpled to the ground, the side of his face already blooming with red. “You brat,” Kang seethed as cries of horror erupted from the crowd, guards seizing him and trying to pull him away. “What do you understand? Han Jisung, your old man — people like them don’t deserve to walk free.”
You had just stepped out of the courtroom when a commotion in the hallway had made you look over, the scene that had greeted your eyes making you freeze. Jeongin had been clutching Prosecutor Kang’s arm, looking up at the older man imploringly — and his expression had been genuinely kind, almost pitying, his mouth opening and closing frantically as though he were pleading with him. You had shaken your head in disbelief, trying to push through the throng of shocked citizens — only Yang Jeongin’s heart was big enough to look his parents’ tormentor in the eyes, and help him.
Then Kang had suddenly struck Jeongin, and now the delivery boy was curling up in pain on the ground as the prosecutor screamed at him.
“They were foolish enough — depraved enough — to violate those laws, and I charged them with what they deserved. It’s as simple as—”
The next thing you knew, you were in front of Kang, palm outstretched, and you had slapped him hard across the face.
The entire crowd fell dead silent, Jeongin looking up at you from the floor in dazed disbelief. Even Kang was speechless as he looked back at you, holding his jaw, eyes about to pop out of their sockets.
“It seems like you know everything about law, Prosecutor Kang,” you said, voice shaking with anger, “but you know nothing about being human.”
Kang opened his mouth, but for once, nothing came out. The hallway was erupting in chaos again as cameras clicked and flashed eagerly. The guards began to drag Kang away before it could get more hectic, your last glimpses of the corrupt prosecutor disappearing behind the reporters’ bobbing heads. As you helped Jeongin up, checking his head worriedly, you felt a hand pull at your own arm. You turned to see Hyunjin, and judging by the look on his face, he had seen everything.
“Is this just going to be a thing now?” The barista asked, side-eyeing you wearily as he held onto Jeongin protectively, “Are you just going to start slapping everyone who crosses you?”
“Maybe,” you muttered mutinously. “It’s faster, and less emotionally draining than negotiating.”
“You’re studying to be a therapist, y/n,” Hyunjin reminded you exasperatedly, and you let out a small laugh, pouting slightly. The barista smiled too, despite himself, and you both looked over at Jeongin. The boy’s eyes were staring over the crowd’s heads, through the lobby doors, and you realised he was watching the officers push Kang into the police cruiser — the man who had ruined his parents’ lives, finally handcuffed and headed where he was supposed to be.
You turned around, and caught sight of another familiar face further down the hallway, standing perfectly still despite the crowd of people rushing past around him.
Lee Minho’s face was turned away from you, his catlike eyes staring at something with the same, unfathomable expression you had come to grow so accustomed to. You remembered how you had once been afraid of the coroner and his strange, standoffish manner, but now, as you watched him from afar, you felt a small pang of sympathy. Minho always carried himself like a ghost, you realised — a shadow lingering in the corners of rooms and corridors, unsure if he was ever wanted.
You quickly excused yourself from Hyunjin and Jeongin and you began to push through the crowd towards the coroner. As you followed his gaze to the holding cell doors, they suddenly swung open, and Jisung stepped out into the hallway. Your steps slowed. The two stood facing each other for several long moments — two childhood friends, two lost children who had found their only sense of family — twisted though it had been — in each other. Minho’s face was hesitant, as if about to turn away, but Jisung had already begun walking up to him. You were too far away to hear what they were saying, Jisung’s back turned to you and Minho awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.
Then Jisung suddenly closed the gap between the two of them, and pulled Minho into a hug.
You watched as the ex-coroner’s mask finally shattered, the older boy’s face scrunching up like a child’s as he buried his head in Jisung’s shoulder. His entire body shook with silent sobs, as if something in him had finally been let go, a burden he had carried his entire life lifted off his chest.
Eventually, the guards stepped forward, and Minho pulled away. He looked at Jisung with a small smile on his face — the first genuine smile you had ever seen from him — and you managed to catch the words forming on his lips.
“Goodbye, Han Jisung.”
“He’ll probably need to go through a trial of his own.” Chan’s voice made you jump in surprise. He had come up beside you while you had been distracted, Felix and Woojin close behind him. He nodded at you by way of greeting before turning back to where Jisung was standing. “The coroner, I mean. But he’ll likely get around five years in prison, more or less.”
You watched as Minho was ushered away into another corridor, Jisung staring at the empty spot where he had once stood. Before you could reply, he turned around, eyes landing on yours — and all of a sudden, you forgot about the security guards flanking every doorway, the law officials and reporters brushing briskly past you. For a moment, it was as if it were only you and Jisung in the hallway, the entire world standing still around the two of you.
Since the last time you had spoken to him had ended with you slapping him in the face, you decided that it was only right for you to take the first step towards him. Slowly, feeling as if you were in a dream, you made your way towards him, Jisung walking the rest of the way to meet you in the middle.
“Hey, you.” Jisung’s voice was soft, nearly inaudible, not taking his hazel eyes off yours.
You heard Chan chuckle behind you, shaking his head as he threw his arms around Felix and Woojin’s shoulders to steer them away and leave you two in private. The hallways had nearly cleared out, and for the first time in what felt like forever — if you ignored the guards watching a little ways off from the holding cells — you and Jisung were alone together.
There were a thousand things racing through your mind right now, but you couldn’t seem to find the right words to say.
“Five years,” Jisung tentatively broke the silence again, and when you looked back at him in confusion, he continued, “in the psychiatric institute. They told me five years minimum, on watch. But I heard...it’s a nice place.”
His lopsided, sheepish smile was as infectious as ever, making one tug at your own lips. When Jisung saw you smile, he relaxed just the tiniest amount.
“Y-you’re going to be okay?” You finally asked, feeling your voice waver.
Jisung’s gaze softened, nodding. “You saved me.”
“No.” You shook your head firmly. You knew he was talking about Seungmin’s arguments, Jeongin’s witness statements, the article you and Felix had published — but it all might have been for nothing, you thought, mind flashing back to the courtroom, if Jisung hadn’t finally stepped up from his chair and faced his lifelong traumas in the form of one last, truthful testimony. “Han Jisung, you saved yourself.”
He fell silent at that, and you saw his hand instinctively move towards yours for a split second before he quickly stopped himself. Jisung’s arms were floating by his sides, as if wanting to pull you close, but he was holding himself back. He was afraid, you finally realised — afraid that you would push him away, afraid to ever hurt you again. And for some, inexplicable reason, the idea of a rift between the two of you that could never be repaired seemed to hurt even more than a switchblade to the heart.
“For some reason, I’ve been thinking back to our first date,” Jisung cleared his throat, one hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He probably looked like a nervous schoolboy in front of his first love, Jisung thought, cringing at himself as he looked away from your curious gaze. Well, he added as an afterthought, that wouldn’t be too far off.
You were his first love, after all.
“I...I didn’t know how you felt that day,” Jisung continued, “or even the days after that, to be honest. I didn’t know if I was doing things right, or—”
“You took my breath away,” you cut him off, the honesty in your own words making your cheeks heat up. You thought back to the diner, to the blond boy who had rendered you speechless with a single heart-shaped smile. As an afterthought, you brought a hand to your rib cage, where a switchblade in that same boy’s hands had once punctured through your lungs, and you deadpanned, “literally.”
Eyebrows raising in disbelief, Jisung gave an incredulous laugh, but his gaze was fixed on the site of your wound. You could still see the deep guilt in his eyes, and, taking a deep breath, you reached for his hand, gingerly placing it where the knife had been. His skin was cool against your fingers, palm rough but familiar. “I’m okay, Jisung. It’s okay. But...why bring that up, all of a sudden?”
“I feel like that now,” he admitted softly, “the same feeling, but with a whole new set of butterflies. Always thinking about you, worrying about you. Wondering how you feel about…”
“Us,” you finished for him, and Jisung nodded slowly. Us. The word hung between the two of you for a long moment, and you took a shaky breath. A part of you wanted to reassure him, to pull him into your arms as if nothing had ever changed. But another part of you pushed that feeling away, knowing deep down that it was too late, that too much had already happened between the two of you to just ignore.
“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, and you looked down, afraid to see the expression on his face. “I woke up that morning, and you were just...gone. I was so scared for you, I went looking for you...then one thing lead to another, and before we all knew it, the world had turned upside down. I-it might sound selfish, but after all...this, I think I’m going to need some...time.” You finally lifted your eyes up to his face, heart pounding. For a terrifying second, you thought you saw a flash of pain skip across Jisung’s pupils — but before you could be sure, his face broke into a relieved smile.
“You’ve always been like this, you know?” He sighed, one hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then, contrary to what you had expected, Jisung visibly relaxed. “Worrying about other people before taking care of yourself. You’re not being selfish, okay? Don’t...worry about hurting me anymore.”
You stared at him, the genuine warmth in his words suddenly making your throat close up with stunned tears. Jisung’s eyes, you remembered, had always seemed glazed over and unfocused — as if his mind was trapped somewhere else, far, far away. But as he looked back at you now, you were suddenly hit by how...clear they had become. He was here, perfectly focused on you, eyes filled with what you could only describe as pure adoration.
“I need time, too,” Jisung continued quickly, “I have...so many things I need to fix, to work on, and get better at—”
You shook your head furiously then, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you held onto his wrist. “W-want to love every part of you,” you whispered, forcing your voice to remain steady. “Don’t...don’t hide any parts of yourself, ever again. Okay?”
Jisung watched you for a long moment, brow furrowed as he gingerly wiped your tears, and finally gave a small nod. He cradled your face in his hands, eyes trying to memorise your features as though you were the most beautiful thing he would ever see. To someone else, you thought vaguely, you might have looked insane. A killer’s hands, they might have said, bloodstained hands. But as you gazed up at Jisung, all you saw was a boy who had gone through hell and came back smiling, a boy who loved you more than life itself.
You heard footsteps approaching, and looked up to see several security guards making their way towards Jisung. “Mr. Han,” one called gruffly, “it’s time to go.”
The sudden interruption made your mind go blank momentarily as any reasonable words — goodbye, take care — immediately dissolved on your tongue. The guards were getting closer and closer, and Jisung turned back to you, stammering.
“If you ever want to—to do this whole...love thing again, start over properly, I—I promise I’ll try not to screw it up. I mean, if you’re sure—and only if you’re sure,” he paused then, sounding suddenly flustered, and for a second, he was your tousled-hair, golden boy from the diner again, soft cheeks flushed like windblown peach roses, eyes unsure yet hopeful as a child’s. This was the boy you had fallen in love with, over blueberry pancakes and Chinese takeout, on seemingly endless nights and through the darkest thunderstorms. Ever since you had made that promise, in a children’s playground beneath the setting sun, you knew that somehow, no matter what fate had left in store, you would always find your way back to him.
Jisung was already being ushered away, the sudden absence of his touch on your skin leaving you feeling empty — but his last words brought a smile to your tearstained face.
“...I’ll be waiting.”
ryu says:
thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to everyone who made it to the end of this series; to everyone who came on this long journey with me, you made it possible and amazing every step of the way. at times, as my first ever series and long-term project, it was both daunting and terrifying, but i am beyond happy and honoured i could experience it with you.
i’ll see you in the epilogue.
#han jisung#stray kids#skz#stray kids series#stray kids au#stray kids imagine#bang chan#kim woojin#yang jeongin#lee know#stray kids minho#lee felix#seo changbin#kim seungmin#hwang hyunjin#stray kids boyfriend#stray kids yandere#stray kids angst#stray kids imagines#han jisung au#han jisung angst#han jisung yandere#han jisung boyfriend#serial killer!au#stray kids soft#stray kids fluff#kpop#kpop aus#kpop series#young god
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