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lookwhatyoumademedohaha · 1 year

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THE SEVENTH CROW - NETFLIX CHARACTERS PART 1

I was thinking about the interview where the Crows cast played a game to find which Netflix character could be their infamous seventh Crow and this list of badasses immediately came to my mind. I have more Netflix characters in mind but this is Part 1 of the top Netflix characters who would be the seventh badass Crow.

Vincenzo Cassano

There are limits when it comes to pain. But there are none when it comes to fear.

Hong Cha Young

To be honest, everything we did was so cruel that it was hard for me to endure. But do you know why I supported you? There's no law that can punish a monster like Jang Han-seok. And there are no other options. That's why I supported your method, the lesser evil. I thought that was the right thing to do.

Mr. Nam

You know the saying, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder”? Your absence left a hole with a 30m diameter in my heart.

Moon Dong - Eun

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a fracture for a fracture. The one who inflicted the injury must suffer the same. That sounds too fair to me. Don't you think? From now on every single day will be a nightmare. They will be provocative and terrifying. You can't stop me or makee disappear. I'm playing on becoming a very old rumour of yours.

Yeo Jeong

"I will do it. I will be your executioner, I will join the hunt. Just tell me what should I do first? What do you want to do next? Tell me who do I need to kill first?"

Kang Hyeon-Nam

Even if you try to break me, I’m not scared of you anymore. And I will wear red lipstick.

The Grim Reaper and the Goblin

They say God only gives us obstacles we can overcome. But if that is true, maybe he thought too highly of me.

Lee Yeon and Lee Rang

Since the old days, my little brother couldn’t even ignore an injured puppy. I was wondering where he went, but you haven’t changed. You haven’t changed at all.

Ko - Moon Young, Gang - Tae and Sang - Tae

the one who neglects and turns a blind eye to the abuse is worse than the abuser.”

Kaz Brekker and the Crows would be absolutely lucky to have these beautiful badasses on their team!❤️

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coolbeansbuddyofmine · 1 year

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i once believed love would be black n' white (but it's golden)

five times mun-yeong wished to see colour in her life and once she did (or the one where mun-yeong can only see the colors in 4K resolution when gang-tae is around her, and without him, life is muted)

a fic for kdrama secret santa 2022; for @rabonghee

read it on ao3 here!

im also very sorry this is late. a combination of sickness, travel and family stuff had left me busy last week. i do hope you enjoy, nonetheless, especially @rabonghee

a happy belated christmas and new year to you and your loved ones!

i’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night

1. mun yeong’s never had friends before. the boy with the flower at her gate is the first who’s ever come up to approach her and she’s more confused than anything else. everything around her, the world moves so slowly (dreadfully so) in some stupid 20s monochrome film.

it’s all boring and predictable and even at six, mun yeong knows that life’s not supposed to be like this.

in the books she hides from her mother, read secretly under her covers at night with a soft night light, she knows life can be and have so much more meaning and depth and colour to it than whatever her mother says.

for her few years of life, she’s believed her mother’s every word religiously, hanging on to it as if the word of god herself. her mother is? was? her god, but now, the former believer has committed sacrilege.

free thought has never felt more constraining.

the boy is like a fresh wind of indigo in her imposing house of stark greys and blacks. for her, who’s never seen colour, nor the blinding indigo in a rainbow, he’s her gateway drug.

she wants to pull him to her, magnetised by the beautiful blue hues.

---

he leaves, and she finds herself living in greyscale again.

the things that haunt me in the middle of the night

2. ju ri is kind and loud. mun yeong who would like to be an artist, if she had any talent at it, would paint her a loud and vibrant red; something vermillion or crimson, whatever would describe that prick of a paper cut that first stains it. she could be that crimson, that fresh blood, and she probably is. mun yeong’s eyes are aching and tired, and it filters the world around her, blunting all its edges.

ju ri is fun, but even she, in the predictability of seongjin city and its coastline, remains predictable. in a world of rectangles and squares, both she and mun yeong are the same; she’s loud in her fury where mun yeong is cold and quiet, that is the only difference.

the daughters of seongjin are all born angry, it seems.

that boy, mun yeong wonders, is probably a circle. she’s attracted to all those unlike her: that butterfly for one. does fury run in his blood? she wonders. is he a child of seongjin like her? or is a desperate wanderer, a nomad with no grounds to put down, a home that moves around with their people, like her?

does he want to find a home? or has he found it?

even years later, her mind still wanders to the boy who sharpened her edges to show her the most blinding of colors. something blinding in a gradient of darkness, does he pull others into him like he did for her?

is he a star to guide her or a blackhole waiting to devour her?

---

when she kisses ju ri, she wants to see another dazzling color.

she’s disappointed and leaves.

(it’s what she’s good at, after all. leaving just when the relationship was going to inevitably end; it’s called self-preservation, she has to save herself first before the momentum becomes too much and crashes)

luck of the draw only draws the unlucky

her college boyfriend thinks he’s won. she’s amongst the prettiest women on campus and she knows it: she’s his prize. among the many toys he takes, she’s his one and only trophy. all golden and gilded and glittery surface, hollow and black inside. he plays with her like a toddler with a precious toy; careless and sometimes it hurts.

but she’s used to falling and bumping and bending. trophies don’t break anyway, he can’t break her because he can’t fix her. or replace her.

all bark and bite, that’s how he likes her. says it makes the sex more fun, and she wants to jeer in his face. her contrarian nature is good for him as long as he wants to roleplay, and beyond it, she’s just a bitch.

(of course she knows of the things he says of her behind her back to his friends. he’s an average steady fuck, so she doesn’t want to quite let go yet.)

when she kisses him, she likes to pretend he’s that boy standing at her gates with a flower. she admires the great bit of courage that boy had picked up to come to her haunted house of a home in all his childish innocence and fears. oppa isn’t brave like him. no, like all good women before she had to bait him and reel him in.

college dating teaches many a great deal about fishing. she would be a pro at it, if she could tolerate amputating and gutting that worm (it feels too alive and her breath catches in anxiety). it’s taught her patience (she barely has some; waiting is for the strong and brave of heart, and she’s far too cowardly to face daunting time).

she doesn’t want to. she tries not to. but inevitably, unfortunately, she tires of oppa sooner than he tires of her. it’s easier to let men leave her, and pretend as if they’ve walked away with breaking her heart (it does things for their ego, and later at night, when they sleep with another, the guilt makes for excellent sex).

she could scoff. none of her suitors have broken her heart---they’d have to own it in the first place. you can’t break what’s not your own.

she walks away from the flames and burning embers, as oppa rapidly tries to fan them in vain. she’s not coming back.

it’s a shame she really did like him.

---

she kisses him once again at a party before he graduates. it’s just before he gets piss drunk, and a test for her to see whether any of the remnants of feelings remain.

her heart feels as heavy as steel and yet she’s hollow through and through. within her, her heart is as dense as it is empty, something paradox.

there are so many lines i’ve crossed unforgiven

4. becoming a children’s fiction writer, it’s something she couldn’t even have fathomed in her dreams. she doesn’t think her fiction is for children, even now. it’s based off her own childhood for starters, and that’s appropriate for no child ever. perhaps it is the fantastical elements, the downright grimm-brothers-and-hans-christian-anderson tale that has been her life. like attracts the like, and she’s always thought of life as something a little mystical, unreal even.

something like a long dream she longs to wake up from.

if everyone that was in her life could see her now. they’d laugh. ko mun yeong? a children’s book author? you must be joking. she hates children.

they’d be right too. she hates children---freud says daughters are a reflection of mother. she’d always thought that lunatic had some truth to his words despite his delusional works most of the times. she is her mother, and all she remembers from that woman is coldness and detachment and her child-like nature to constantly want to please the unhappy, un-pleasable woman.

(if children got close to her, maybe they’d realize the same and she’d break them. she keeps away for them and herself).

---

she thinks of that boy at her gates. was he as naive and innocent as her? as the other children? would she have broken him then or now?

she’d hate herself more than she does now, more than she can fathom if she had broken him. she’s fine with everyone in the world hating her, but that small part of her traitorous ten-year-old heart still doesn’t want him to ever hate her. not with how much she likes him. still.

---

“was the witch lonely?” a little girl asks her once. her newest book is out, something about the tale of a witch who gobbled children up who came to her door. a little boy spots her eating a child once, her favorite little boy, and he stops at her gates before running away.

the witch never sees him again.

she blinks, and little pinpricks of tears are at the back of her eyes. she wills them not to fall because she’s helen and if she cries, troy will fall. she’s self-sacrificing.

“no, she was bad. a bad bad person. bad people don’t get lonely. they get their come-uppance and have to live with the guilt of their actions, the weight of it, and the people that leave them.”

she answers it all in one short breath, before smiling and walking away.

---

“people aren’t always bad. they can change.”

not her.

clearing the air, i breathed the smoke

her life has been on auto-pilot. after a certain level of fame, it all started getting a bit too monotonous for her. when the only constant in your life, your only friend is your goddamn publisher, you know it’s getting a little sad.

she has more than she knows how to spend, and this job is more of a hobby, playing adult, than doing something for actual money.

life’s too boring, and she aches for just something different. it’s times like this when she thinks of the boy. how unexpectedly delightful he was. a breath of fresh wind in her cooped-up house, something new, something unexpected.

maybe she just misses him. after all, it’s been twenty years now since she saw him last.

the boy...if she could have one wish, one last wish and demand and plea in her life, she’d like to him see him again maybe.

get entranced. transfixed. enchanted again.

(maybe this what people call burnout? boredom? is this what weber meant when he talked about the bureaucracy and disenchantment with life?)

---

sang in suggests she do charity, philantrophy. some of that corporate csr bullshit she’s not on, but he clearly babbles about day and night.

something about building her image.

as if good deeds now will redeem her and save her now. she’s far too gone to be recovered. it’s the gates of hell for her only.

it’s golden like daylight

and once,

1. spring brings back her love to her. they say love is like the tide of the four seasons, it fades in the cold of winter, but as the warmth of spring blooms in, love returns.

she’s had a very long winter.

twenty some odd years, and the hazy bright golden sun and the pink cherry blossoms around her in a beautiful lovely spring of romance feels dizzying.

that gust of cold northern winds she’d felt from the boy’s arrival years ago, once again bursts in her chest. oxygen fills her lungs, and perhaps she just hasn’t breathed before as well as she does now. greedy little breaths of cold air, and she doesn’t want to return to that recycled, stuffy air.

they say three times is fate.

once, the first. she sees him in spring, walking up to her. pink petals around them. she drops cigarette ash in his cup.

twice, next. she raises a knife, a hand. he catches it, and it, his grasp, his fist tightens. blood flowing. red, red, red. the pink darkens.

it falls onto her hands, her sinner hands, her tight fists. and the mongolian blue mark stains red. (she’s always marked by violence.)

thrice. it’s fate. she’s almost in love. a little bit more and she’ll be there. heart palpitations, sweaty palms, flushed cheeks, and her aching wet cunt. what is love without lust? she hasn’t felt like this before.

(if the boy was here, she’d think he would be just like moon gang tae. moon gang tae. moon gang tae. even the taste of his name on her mouth tastes heady. she feels light-headed and drunk off just this. would she die at the taste of him then?)

they meet in seongjin city. and she knows it’s her boy. that boy. the boy that remains at the gates of her house and her heart.

---

later, months later. when she finally kisses him, she can taste the freezing north wind boreas in her mouth.

it’s burning like the heat of the golden sun.

#my writing #It's okay to not be okay #ko mun yeong #go moon young #moon gang tae #moon kang tae #mun yeong x gang tae #moon young x gang tae #it's okay to not be okay fic #kdrama secret santa 2022 #secret santa 2022

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